Prologue
I sit there, staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights flicker slightly, and a fly buzzes around, not caring if he distracts, not caring if he bothers, only caring that there is a bright light in front of him that he has to fly to.
I was just the opposite of that fly.
I was a planner; I did nothing on instinct or for survival, only for what I had planned. I looked for only what I knew, and I indulged no one with stories of my life. For what has happened in my life would challenge any inkling of imagination in anyone. I am not ready to risk that. Until now.
This is the story of how I became that fly.
CHAPTER 1
The Bookworm and the Butterfly
It was only a year ago that I was sitting in algebra II, a senior, only needing to pass that one class to graduate. I was staring at the grains in the desk, wondering when I would ever get to leave, wondering if there was anything bigger than what I thought outside the town where I lived. It was there, in that desk on that normal day, where, like normal, I felt myself getting drowsy. My eyes began to water from the light coming from the projector, reflecting off the white board and irritating my eyes. I closed my eyes then, blocking out the chatter of the monotone teacher, the faint hum of the projector, and the flickering light above me. There, in my wooden seat, surrounded by many drooling faces and glassy eyes, I fell asleep, happily welcoming my dreams, because only they could relieve me from the depths of confusion I was hostage to.
I woke up at the end of class to the bell and decided scribbled down the homework just in case I had free time that night. I walked out rubbing my eyes, not fully awake until later that day, when it was time to go home.
I was walking, more like dragging myself, down the hallway to the doors that would eventually lead the parking lot, when I heard loud footsteps behind me, and a deep voice that I recognized fairly well. "Hey Rose, do you want to see a movie with me tonight? You can choose what we would see, but I think that new movie about those giant bird things looks cool."
I turned around to look at the culprit. It was Ben, one of the most abnormal people in the whole school, and that was saying a lot, because many of the kids were abnormal here. I decided to answer with my normal comeback. "No way, like I'd ever go out with a creep like you, especially because you're already going out with Ming."
I didn't like to think I was snobby, I just thought myself truthful. After all, my day did not have time for movies with idiot boys.
Reluctantly, Ben nodded, his sea-green eyes pierced me and for a moment I thought I saw them flash black, but in the same moment he was turning away, flipping his wavy blonde hair at me and muttering something that looked like a curse and the word marriage under his breath.
When he was finally gone, and I could move on to the doors, I heard another pair of footsteps behind me. When I again turn around, I am face to face with my friend Belle. She looks gorgeous as normal, her black hair falling over shoulders like a waterfall, and her tall, lean, model figure towering over me slightly. "Hey!" she says to me happily.
"Hey," I say back, slightly cheered by her optimism.
"So, I'm having a get together at my house tonight with everyone, you coming?" she asked me quizzically, looking at me with her dark gray eyes that normally got every inch of every secret out of everyone.
As much as I would've like to go, I knew I couldn't. "Oh gosh, I'd love to, but I can't, I have like three tests tomorrow and homework and stuff, but yeah, I don't have time, sorry, maybe some other time," I stuttered.
"Ok, for the record though, make up excuses before you even get to school in morning, and perfect them, and since when have you ever cared about homework or tests? Do you like wet the bed or something?" Belle whined.
"Uh, yeah, I wet the bed, listen Belle, I really have to get home, I'll see you tomorrow and you can fill me in on all the details," I lied; I had never wet the bed in my life, and I found it extremely gross and unsanitary.
I turned around just as I she sighed. However, it didn't sound like a sigh of frustration, it sounded like a sigh of relief.
I kept walking away, holding back everything that was coming to my head. I wished they would all stop bugging me. I understood that I was their friend, and a friend was expected to hang out, but I couldn't all the time. I had had a relatively good day until now, I had even managed to scrape a C on my Algebra II test. I had fallen asleep right after of course, as I had figured that I deserved a break after using that much brain power. I couldn't imagine running cross country like Belle did, but I figured it must use as much energy as that test had.
I turned the corner and passed the library, hearing a voice I again recognized as I passed. "Hey Camper, how about you go back to your grand shack and study there, you're taking up all of my space here," another one of my friends, Belinda, jeered threateningly, her long, wavy, brown hair falling softly around her face and draping it beautifully. Her unnaturally purple eyes were slits as she stared at the boy across from her.
I felt myself catch my breath. It was Andrew. I saw him look up and then down again. His books and papers covered the table; even he didn't have enough room to work. I immediately felt sorry for him, but felt a sense of pleasure when he ignored Belinda and continued to work on his paper. "Idiot, move your crap!" Belinda screamed at Andrew. I could tell she was getting extremely fed up, and no one wanted to mess with Belinda when she was fed up.
"You know, it's not hard for you to move if it bothers you so much," Andrew spoke, never looking away from his work.
"It is my desire that the both of you be reticent in the archives," Miss Mavis, the librarian yelped at them. I thought I saw her hair flash from white to orange and back to white when she spoke, but then again, it might have just been the light.
I watched Andrew look at his paper and continue writing again. His glasses slid down his nose and he leaned down quite close to the paper. He had obviously just put the final touches on his work, because he sat back and shook out his hand, when Belinda stood up. When she stood, she bumped the table, spilling her water all over his freshly written essays, including the one he had just finished. He was taken aback at first, and the stared at Belinda, fury written all over his face. She pointed at him and began to snicker as Miss Mavis approached the table.
Miss Mavis, with her hand on her hip, began to bark at Andrew in a harsh voice and words that only he would ever understand. "Andrew Camper, fumiagte this disarray at once!"
His face fell; I knew he had worked forever on some of those. They were likely scholarship applications, as I always saw him working on them in class, and they seemed to have a lot of spaces to write and lot's of lines to write names and dates and such. I felt a strange pang of hatred toward Belinda as she stalked out of the library, totally missing that I was standing right there. Andrew watched Belinda leave, glaring at her bouncy step. He gathered up his wet papers and put them in his bag. He straightened his glasses, went to the bathroom, walked right past me, and came back with a handful of paper towel, which he promptly used to clean his mess and throw into the garbage so hard that it almost knocked the can over. He was wiping off the table when I noticed a stray piece of paper on the table that he had missed. He must've noticed too because he picked it up and hastily stuffed it into his pocket, looking around with a nervous look on his face. Then he picked up his bag and left, blowing right past me, ignoring me entirely. Luckily, I was used to this kind of rejection from him, he had always thought I was a jerk because of the way my friends acted.
I trailed him out of the building, careful not to suggest that I was following. He jogged out to the bike racks, and grabbed his bike. He groaned when he saw it. The tired were flat and on the handlebar there was a note. I walked past casually and slowly, pretending that I lost my car in the almost empty parking lot, but really only curious as to what he would do in this unexpected calamity that was unbeknownst to me but extremely fortunate and made my plans much easier.
I heard Andrew whisper the name that I figured was the culprit as well. Celso. He was such an idiot. I had always despised Belinda's long time boyfriend. Andrew looked around, very bewildered, and turned to go back into school. I turned around, desperate to use this moment as a chance. I rushed over to the door where he was heading and cut off his path. "Oops, sorry," I muttered.
"Watch it," he said back to me.
I remained silent while I waited for him to look at me. When he does, there is shock written on his face. Maybe it was because the most popular girl in school was looking at him, or maybe it was an aftereffect of his terror of Belinda rubbing off on me. When he began to continue inside, I reached out, grabbing his arm, "wait" I said, grasping my chance.
"What do you want?" he said despairingly.
"Do you need a ride or something?" I said slyly. I would forever love Celso for this, even if it had been a problem for Andrew, and he had done it out of pure ego.
"Why would you give me a ride home? People of your high status don't talk to people with one as low as mine," he said slightly angered.
I sighed, "listen, I'm not here for flattery, you just look very - um - well - stranded, and I have a car and it wouldn't be a problem for me to bring you home. I am a very responsible driver," I said truthfully wanting to both help him and talk to him in another language but French.
"Um, thanks, but no thanks. I think your friend Belinda would have a fit, and besides, a stranger equals danger, and seeing as I've only ever talked to you once in French class like a few years ago, I would consider it unsafe to ride with you," he spoke quickly.
"Well can I help with something then? I feel bad leaving you here when I have a car and you don't."
"Actually, yeah, can I use your cell phone? And I know you have a cell phone, I can't believe you don't think people see you texting under the seat in the middle of class," he rushed in the words, babbling, and seeing my expression, smiled slightly, but then his eyes turned revolted again, as if he thought that I was just there to torment him.
"Yeah, hold on a sec," I smiled and reached into my backpack, pulling out my pink bedazzled i-phone, "here."
"Thanks," he stared hesitantly as he took the phone and dialed.
I gave myself an invisible pat on the back, now his number would be programmed into my phone. My friends would kill me if I knew I was this obsessed, and if they knew I was helping an 'idiot that's way out of my league.'
I heard a muffled noise from my phone. It must be someone answering.
Andrew spoke, "hi mom, it's Andrew."
More muffled sounds. It reminded me of the adult's voices in Charlie Brown and I began to laugh. Andrew didn't notice, thank goodness.
"Yeah, I need a ride home."
I looked out at the stadium across the lot, the sky was clear and beautiful.
"I did, but someone blew out the tires."
Too bad I would never get to see stars, probably ever again.
"Ok, love ya, bye," he faltered and hung up with a sigh. "Hey, what time is it?"
I took my phone from him and looked at the clock, "5:45," I said, feeling like I had enough time.
"That's so not enough time," he mumbled to himself, then looked at me, with a look that slightly regretful. I smiled, as if anything he had said would be a big deal to me. We stood in awkward silence for a while until he looked across the lot, as a result of me not wanting to leave him there alone. Looking where he was, I saw an old, rust covered, light blue station wagon pull in. Inside I saw an older, graying woman who I could tell was very smart, just by looking into her gray eyes. She actually looked familiar, as if I'd seen her a long time ago, maybe in a picture or something.
Andrew jumped in the car, muttering a quiet, "see ya," and they drove away. When they were gone, I let out a sigh of relief and distress. If only he was what I was.
I walked over to my yellow convertible that my parents had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday and got in. I put the keys in the ignition and pulled out, all the time wondering why I even liked Andrew, there was no future in it, and he was extremely irritating, but for some reason he caught my eye every day.
I drove for a while, then, pulled onto my street. I pull into the garage and step inside my nice warm house. My room was in the basement, so I climbed down the stairs to the dungeon, as I called it. In the hallway I passed two doors, one, the bathroom, the other, the forest room. It was there, in the forest room, a room decorated like a woodland, that I enduring bone-crumbling pain and sleep that was almost non-existent, all through the eyes of something other than myself. Only that room and my parents had ever witnessed my secret.
When I got to my bedroom, I looked around. I liked this room much better. The dark purple walls and lime accents made me want to stay there forever. I set my bag down on the hardwood floor and stretched out on my bed that I never used. I looked at the clock, and groaned. I only had three hours left.
I thought back on the day, I had been asked out by a record number of boys again, including five freshmen, two sophomores, fifteen juniors, and fourteen seniors. That made thirty-six, four over my past record. I looked at my ceiling and wished I were at Belle's party. Once I had figured out that I couldn't count the little splotches on my ceiling, I went up for dinner, and once that was over, actually studied for my tests. Then I went down to my forest room.
When I opened the door, I felt the soft cushiony turf, and the ground covered in moss and dirt. The trees billowed up around me, casting long dark shadows along the floor. The smell of fresh flowers and refreshing air filled the area. A peaceful waterfall cascaded into a small pond in the corner.
It was now almost time. I looked up at the painted ceiling. It was complete with clouds and birds that really moved. I hadn't actually seen the night sky since I was a little girl, but I always thought about what it would be like to see the moon one more time. I might have given all I had just to be able to go outside at that moment. Staring at the ceiling too much always reminded me of the day my life had changed.
It had been in the summer going into fourth grade. I remembered it well; I had been cruel and snobby to everyone that day, including my best friend and my parents. Soon enough, I was sent to my room for some trivial act so small I hardly remember. I sat on my bed, thinking about how much I wanted to get away from my parents and how much they were ruining my life. Then, I remembered hearing a small thump on my wall. I looked around and saw a small light. I looked closer and saw it was a miniature person in a white dress. Her black hair shone in the light and her gray eyes seemed to spiral inward into nothingness. She spoke nothing, and did nothing but stare at me for the longest time. Then, finally, she spoke, her voice was that of a child and an old woman mixed, a sound I am likely to never forget. "I mark you forever until you find a true love where your bond will not sever. You will make love known in the moonlight on the first day of fall, and both be rid of the curse of flight, in light of a ball."
I remember feeling very confused and annoyed, and then recognizing the tiny woman as someone who looked like my grandma. I stared at her, not knowing if I should disregard this encounter as a dream, I was in my room after all, or if I should take this seriously and be afraid. She stared back at me, "do you have anything to say?" she asked.
I was confused by this question. Should I protest? Should I say okay? Should I not say anything at all? "Uh - what am I supposed to say?" I had asked.
"I do not know, whatever you feel," she had answered.
"Um, then, I feel like you should go away and not do the cursey thingy on me, 'cause I don't want it."
"Oh, I'm afraid that cannot happen. Anything else?"
"What do you mean?" I had asked, taken aback by her stubbornness, no one had ever said no to me so strongly.
"I will just bestow it upon you now, you have no more questions," the woman had said.
She had sat there, mumbling darkly to herself, until she said something in a language I did not understand and waved her nimble hand.
Just as my memory began to fade, the clock began to beep and I felt a searing pain in my arms. It was as if someone had dug through my skin, and pulled out the bones in my arm. I hunched over, screaming in pain as a giant brown wing extended from each arm. At once, the pain was gone, but then it began again, this time encompassing my face and legs.
During these times of torture, I always experienced a vision. Each day the vision was different, though always of the same subject. After the first few times I had watched the tiny movies play out in my head, I had begun to like the subject. Now, each time I saw him, I liked him more and more. I felt weird about it at first because I was digging into a place that he thought only he knew about. I felt like I was spying on someone who didn't need to be spied on. However, I realized that I had no choice about the matter or the subject. It was what the curse had caused, and I was to suffer the effects of that curse, even if it meant feeling guilty every time I looked at whom my visions were about. Though, through the subject of my visions, I learned many lessons and I was eternally grateful for that person, even if that person was none other than Andrew Camper.
That night my vision was as follows:
Andrew arrives home and wanders to his room.
He looks the clock on his dad's old wristwatch, the only expensive thing he owns.
He rewrites three papers.
A while later, his mom brings him down a bowl of chili, which he eats and gives back to her.
Then, as soon as she leaves, he begins to act suspiciously, packing everything away, locking the door, and covering his windows.
He then sits in the middle of the floor, and waits.
My vision goes blank.
I always wondered why he did that. Sit on the floor. The only reason I ever sat on the floor like that was when I was getting ready for my transformation.
The next vision began to formulate in my head as my own transformation began to get worse. These next visions were always about two royals. These, I always accepted as dreams, as the royals looked just like two of my classmates from school, Celina and Edward, and I was sure that they never set out on any adventure as epic as my visions. I have had these visions so often that I now know every name, and can read every thought.
All goes black and a shining picture enters my thoughts.