ROSE

The last day of seventh grade turned out to really be a blast. It had everything: water balloons, liverwurst sandwiches of death, and even crazy Libyan queens. But, it was also the day my life changed forever. The day my eyes were opened and I'd never see the world the same way again.

My name is Rosaline Laila Bangash, but everyone calls me Rose. I had only turned 13 the March before the summer of 2002, where our story begins. It has been 12 years since then, but to be honest it's a miracle I've lasted this long. Now, with Gaea on the rise, the two camps at war and a possible Apocalypse hanging over our heads, I thought it would be good to share my stories. Just incase I die, I want someone to remember me. But mainly, I want you to remember my friends. Remember their stories, their fights and their dreams. Let them become legends, so that none of us can be forgotten.

So, as I was saying, the day my life changed forever started out like any other day. I got out of bed ten minutes before my alarm went off, like I always did. Waking up was pretty hard to do at 6:10, but it was a necessity. Wiping my eyes, I looked groggily around the room. It was a small room, with barely enough room for one bed and yet somehow fit a bunk bed. Potted plants sat on the floor and window, surrounded by video game magazines and comic books. Posters of bands like the Olympian Dropouts and movies like the Dark Knight covered most of the teal and grey striped walls. Most of this stuff wasn't even mine, but I endured it. I even read some of the comic books when I was bored. They weren't that bad, to be honest. I especially enjoyed the Sandman comics... but that's not important.

I had to get changed quietly so my brother, Nathan, could sleep the extra ten minutes. He always complained if I tried to wake him up earlier, then would throw a hissy fit for the rest of the day. So I quietly threw on a light pink t-shirt, white jean shorts and flip-flops. Walking down our staircase, I entered the two rooms that made up the main floor. It consisted of a rather tiny kitchen and a small TV area with one recliner and one beanbag chair. I entered the cheap white and black tiled kitchen to grab my breakfast of toast and yogurt. Nothing interesting so far today.

As I ate, Nathan decided to join the land of the living and say with me at the kitchen table. He ate frosted flakes out of the biggest bowl we owned and filled it to the top. And ate ALL of it. It was actually almost sickening to watch. But who was around to stop him when Dad was away?

My dad was studying in the Amazon for a month (he's a botanist), so it was just Nathan and I fending for ourselves. Which wouldn't have been so bad if Nathan ever got off his lazy butt to help around the house.

Nathan headed back upstairs to get changed while I stuffed a small bag with my lunch, my yearbook and some pens for people to sign it. When my brother came down, he was wearing a dark grey shirt with a fireball on it, black cargo pants and sneakers. I rolled my eyes, unsurprised with how completely opposite his clothing was to mine. But then again that was a good thing; it really pissed me off when twins wore similar outfits.

Since Nathan and I are fraternal twins, we aren't suppose to look alike, even though everyone says we do. Nathan is tall and boney, while I'm on the shorter and chubbier side. But I will say one thing for the crazy people who think we look similar; our coloring is almost exactly the same. Tan skin, curly black hair, golden eyes. Yes, I said golden eyes. Not brown or grey or the eyes of those idiots on the Internet who think their green eyes are gold. Actual, minted coin gold.

Since Nathan and I both agreed that talking in the morning before seven was a no-no, we walked out the front door in silence. As we stepped out of the screened front porch, I took one final look around. The porch was almost like a makeshift greenhouse; courtesy of our Dad. Still, a lot of these plants were really cool. Many came from tropical parts of the world, and a lot of them were rare or endangered. Some came from the Amazon, others from Africa, and many came from Vietnam or Thailand. But a lot were just normal old flowers Dad bought from the florist.

We lived on the outskirts of Atlantic City, right before you actually get on the island. It is a not-so suburban area and isn't exactly kid friendly. Or safe, for that matter. But this way Dad could actually buy a house with room for his plants, and still be close enough to the city to drive to his lab. Because of this, the bus that came for us was a public one, and not one of those yellow ones with the red stop sign. It was crowded with people from all walks of life. Woman and men in expensive suits or fast food uniforms. Kids who looked like they eat gold nuggets for breakfast, and kids just barely scraping by. Some kids I recognized from school, and some I didn't. You name it, they were there.

As we drove along, I watched as the suburbs were quickly morphed into a cityscape. Oddly shaped skyscrapers, brightly painted shops, and bright neon lights allowed Atlantic City to live up to its reputation. With the smell of sea salt in the air and not a cloud in the sky, it looked like it was going to be a beautiful morning.

"Do you think dad will make us go to that stupid summer camp again?" Nathan asked suddenly. I turned my attention from the window and onto my brother.

"Probably."

"But I actually wanna do something fun before eighth grade. Camp Wannabe is so... boring."

I snickered. "It's pronounced Camp 'Waunakee.'"

"I know what it is and I know what I said, Rose," Nathan rolled his eyes with a groan. I smiled.

Camp Waunakee kind of was a wannabe summer camp. With camp councilors who are mainly recovering drug addicts that just seem too perky. And games, like rope courses and archery, which would be fun if the camp actually had money for equipment. Since it's in central New Jersey, there is so much farmland surrounding the stretch of forest that the camp constantly smells like cow manure. I still think the worst are the brightly colored neon cabins that have rats living in the walls.

"I hate it there," Nathan murmured to himself.

"Yeah, I know; all you do is complain about it for the month leading up to summer and for the whole eight weeks we are there." I sighed, but I couldn't disagree with him. The camp really was awful. Dad only signed us up every year so we didn't have to be alone all summer while he worked. Since mom died when we were eight, it was hard on Dad as he tried to balance work time and kid time. But we understood. It was the only way to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.

From there, the ride went surprisingly quick. It only took ten minutes to reach North Atlantic City School. The building looked like a rundown library, with stone columns that just seemed to try too hard. The stone stairs leading up were cracked and grim. Graffiti painted the once white walls. The courtyard was covered with trash and cigarette buds. Across the way was a small park that was used as the outside gym and track for the school.

Since North AC went from sixth to twelfth grade, it was hard to not be intimidated by the older kids. They were always standing in the courtyard looking grim and snuffing out their cigarettes whenever a teacher walked by. So they littered the courtyard too, their eyes scanning the crowd of kids getting off the bus, no doubt looking for a weak link to prey upon.

I walked hurriedly up the stairs, with Nathan glued to my side. He had enough sense to keep his hand in his back pocket where his wallet was. A lot of the kids at North Atlantic were poor enough to steal from poor kids. And some were rich enough to think stealing was a fun game or prank. But luckily, we made it inside with no trouble. Apparently, no one bothered to mess with the seventh graders on the last day of school.

Inside wasn't as nice as outside, which was really saying something. The school colors, blue and white, lined the walls. All the lockers were blue but red with rust. The smell of marijuana and feces radiated out of the bathrooms. And the hallways were always coated in a fog of Axe body spray. Kids pushed and shoved to get to their classrooms; the school wasn't made to fit seven grades. The younger kids walked very fast, while the high schoolers walked like they weren't in any rush. This made it rather hard to walk, since they seemed to enjoy not only walking slowly, but doing so in a line across the hallway.

I pushed passed them and hurried to my homeroom. Nathan went quickly upstairs to his. I had to go downstairs to the basement, but at least it wasn't crowded there. Getting inside, I closed the door quickly behind me and found a desk to sit in. Room 216A was pretty large for a history room. With a fully stocked mini library on one wall and a podium on the other, it could fit about forth students. In my homeroom, every desk was usually filled. Not today though. Today, every kid was either standing or sitting on top of a desk. Everyone was a seventh grader in my homeroom, so no one was too rowdy. I found a seat next to my two best friends, Justin Holt and Allesandra Coulson. As soon as I sat down, they shoved their yearbooks in my face.

Even though I'd known both of them for most of my life, I signed their yearbooks as most seventh graders did: with a sweet note about how much fun we had this year, then a "HAGS!" at the end. Satisfied, they stuffed their books back in their backpacks.

"So..." Justin started off. "Any plans-"

"For the summer?" Sandy finished.

"Yeah, for that," Justin grumbled, annoyed as usual when Sandy finished his sentences.

"You guys know what I'm doing this summer. Camp Waunakee as usual," I sighed. Just talking about the place got me down.

"Awww, but Rose! I wanted us to all go to the beach together like we always talked about!" Sandy complained. I honestly don't think I've ever met someone who loved the beach more then Sandy. Her dad owned a beach house at the Jersey Shore just so Sandy could spend the whole summer there. Even though we could just take a taxi to the beach whenever we wanted; it was literally on the edge of Atlantic City.

"Yeah, I know. I could use a beach day, too," I sighed. "But no. It's going to be all cow pastures and camp woods for me."

"I'll go to the beach with you," Justin added, pushing his curly hair out of his eyes. It was so obvious he liked Sandy, it actually hurt. But Sandy made it clear to me at sleepovers that she just wasn't into him that way. She didn't want to put him down for fear of loosing one of her best friends. But all the same, it broke my heart to see him stumbling over her like this.

See, Justin wasn't exactly the best looking guy, but he had the personality of a puppy. He wasn't tall, and most of him was just skin and bones. Sloppy black hair covered his acne-covered face, and braces obscured his yellowish teeth. His grey eyes were always alight with excitement, especially when Sandy was around. He always had an encouraging word to say no matter what, and his constant energy really made him seem like he was part dog.

That's why I always thought he and Sandy would do well together. She had ADHD, so obviously she was always bubbling over with adrenaline. She was always witty, and clumsy, so she was great for a laugh. Her chubby, short body was even shorter then Justin's, so it worked very well. And her curly blonde hair was such a great contrast to his straight and black that it just had to work.

But it didn't. At least, not for Sandy.

So we sat there, discussing our summer plans and hopes, until our homeroom teacher Mr. Daring announced it was time to start field day. We headed outside in a not-so-orderly mob of yelling and whooping children. We walked across the busy street to the park, where water games were set up. Four other homeroom classes came out, while the rest of the teams were doing games inside. The games were only for sixth, seventh and eighth graders, but high school volunteers were aloud to help out. The high schoolers all wore red shirts that said "Target Practice Team," which meant they could also peg us with water balloons if anyone got too rowdy. Most people only volunteered for this reason; apparently it was considered fun to harass kids much younger and weaker then them.

Two of the upperclassmen, one boy and one girl, came over to our team, with the word "Daring" across the backs of their shirts. They were in charge of us for the day while Mr. Daring watched on the bench with the other teachers.

"Alright, kids. Listen up," said the girl. "My name is Danny and this is Chad. We're your counselors for today." Danny wore Oakley sunglasses and black shorts. Her purple flip-flops only matched the sleeveless gloves she wore. Dark brown hair laid flat around a fairly tan face. She was short and broad, but in a muscular kind of way. Her arms were even a bit ripped. I'm pretty sure I'd only seen her once, when I noticed her sleeping during lunch with her face in the Mac and cheese. Her friends did nothing to remove her.

Chad just grunted and swiped his blonde hair to the side. He was tall and buff to the possibility that he was on steroids. His cargo pants only made him look like he was from the marines. I recognized him as a senior from the football team and assumed he was only here to pelt us.

We spent half the day playing water games consisting of water balloons, water guns and wet sponges. By the time we went inside for indie games, my clothes were ruined. My shoes were soggy in my flip-flops, and my shirt stuck to my body. I hated being in wet clothes. When I went to find Sandy, I was shocked to see she was bone dry. Justin was already asking her about it.

"But... but..." He stuttered.

"I told you, I guess I just never got hit," Sandy stated confidently.

"But I was so sure I..." Justin trailed off, muttering something under his breath.

I decided to cut in "It doesn't matter. Let's just get some lunch and finish up this day." We followed Mr. Daring, Chad and Danny inside.

Once we made it to the lunchroom, I spotted Nathan within seconds. He was eating lunch with Jacob, Gordon, Matt and Arnold (his weird nerd friends). I grabbed a seat at the table closest to him, and Sandy followed. Oddly enough, I didn't see Justin anywhere. He walked up with us, then disappeared before we got to the lunchroom. I decided he went to the bathroom.

"I'm starved," Sandy announced to the group, pulling out a paper bag. Inside was a liverwurst sandwich, and I had to restrain myself from gagging. Not only was I a vegetarian (but I usually didn't care if people ate meat in front of me), but it smelt like it was a week old and rotting. But I'm pretty sure that's just what liverwurst smelt like. I settled for a peanut butter and jelly. Halfway through, Sandy announced to us she needed to go to the bathroom. To this day, I'm not sure if I regret saying "I'll go with you" or not. We headed into the hallway together. After we... did our business there, we left and headed for the cafeteria. We walked passed the gym and the smell hit me like a brick wall. A mix between rotting flesh, feces and blood. Basically smelt like a big bottle of liquid death.

Sandy plugged her nose. "What in God's name is that?"

"Not God's name, dear one," a hissing voice said, coming from inside the gym doors. "The gods' names. There are many, many of them." The voice was cold as ice and ancient. Every instinct in my body told me to run.

Apparently Sandy had a different instinct. She pushed the doors open of the gym and walked inside. I hated myself for it later, but I followed. Inside, a tall woman stood dressed in black jeans and a strange black sweatshirt that had sleeves much too big for her. Around her waist she wore a snakeskin like a belt. Her pale skin was almost white, and her bronze hair rolled over her shoulders like liquid metal. Her ruby eyes were surrounded by charcoal, accenting them to the point that they glowed. I had to say, she very pretty. Except for the smell.

I glanced around, trying to find the source of the smell. Apparently, it was just the woman. She must have been wearing the new designer perfume: Kiss of Death. I cringed.

Until Sandy screamed, I didn't notice the boy laying unconscious on the floor. I glanced at her, but tears were running down her face.

"You... you killed Justin."

The woman shrugged. "He walked in while I waited. I was hungry and decided on a snack."

I stared at her in horror, but couldn't comprehend. Michael didn't have a scratch on him; he looked fine. There was a sudden change around the two figures. It was only a split second, but I caught it.

Justin's chest had been ripped to shreds, his blood staining the floor. His shirt was sliced to pieces on the floor, and a large bite mark was very visible on his neck. His backpack somehow was still on him, but it was quickly turning crimson from blood. And the woman... I wanted to shrink up inside when I saw her. Blood stained her mouth and neck. Two razor sharp fangs produced from her mouth and went down to her chin. Long talon-like claws almost reached the floor. What I though was the sleeves of her jacket were really leather wings.

Then the image was gone. It was just Michael on the floor and a normal woman over him. I felt like I was gonna faint; was I going crazy?

"D-did you see that?" I whispered. "The... the fangs and... blood." Years rolled down my cheeks and, even though I could no longer see the blood, I refused to take my eyes off my limp friend's body.

Sandy nodded. By the look on her face I thought she may still be seeing it. I couldn't be sure. When she spoke, her words were soft and broken. "Who are you?"

The woman laughed so cruelly, my skin crawled. "I am Lamia, dear child."

Lamia... that name sounded so familiar... The only thing that came to mind was English class. We had a rather large unit in sixth grade about Greek mythology. Lamia was one of the stories we learned. Something about Scylla and children... But it couldn't be right. Those were just stories. Legends to scare children at night. Greek myths weren't real. I remembered the image I saw just moments before, and I could no longer convince myself.

"You're the mother of Scylla. That monster in the cliffs."

The woman cringed at the word 'monster.' "Yes, and many others."

"Hera..." The part about children hit me like a is. "Hera took your children and... you eat kids now."

Lamia rolled her eyes. "You don't need to tell me what I already know. But yes, that's me. Nice to be recognized every once in a while." She inched closer, sniffing the air between us like a wild dog. "Hmmm, the human smells of flowers. But the Half blood smells of fresh meat and... liverwurst? Gods, even I don't eat that. None the less, you both will make excellent snacks."

She lunged. A flash of metal sailed over our heads with a whoosh. It smacked the vampire in the stomach with a sickening crunch, then zoomed back over us like a boomerang. Lamia skidded a few feet back on her but, a bit dazed.

"Sorry, seventh grader isn't on the menu today," a voice from behind said. I turned to see Danny holding a trashcan lid like a shield (which I assumed was the thing that flew over our heads). In her other hand, she had a death grip on a wooden mop. Chad the football player stood next to her, holding a baseball bat like a sword. His face was hard, and his eyes were murderous.

"Here," Danny tossed Sandy a kitchen knife. "Incase you need to protect your friend here."

Another twitch in the air, and I saw the vampire Queen again. But I also saw the trashcan as a circular bronze shield, with the head of a Rottweiler carved in the front. The mop was actually a bronze spear, and the kitchen knife now looked like a proper bronze dagger. The baseball bat was suddenly a bronze sword that glowed a dim red. Then everything went back to normal.

Believe me, there was no doubt in my mind that I was loosing it. This was all just some crazy dream, or I was a schizophrenic, or I got hit too hard in the head during water balloon time. I was never one for magic. I had always been a girl of science, mainly because of my dad. Hell, I never even believed in capital 'G' God. So, to me, there had to be some logical explanation for what I was watching unfold. I couldn't think of any.

Sandy and I watched as Danny and Chad slashed and poked, rolling and dodging what I remembered were her big invisible talons. Once, Chad slipped on what was probably the blood I could no longer see. When he stood up, it appeared again and covered his face in red.

"W-we have to get Justin out of here," I whispered to Sandy. She gave me a sideways look, then nodded. Holding up her kitchen knife like a knight would a sword, we charged together.

At first, Lamia was too preoccupied to notice us. With two kids poking at her with sticks and baseball bats, she didn't seem interested in us anymore. When we reached Justin, I wasn't sure what to do. The images flickered again, and I could see him as he was. His black hair was stuck to his face as the blood dried. His eyes were rolled back into his head. Blood poured from the slash wounds on his stomach. He was shaking like crazy, and his breathing was tagged and weak, but he was alive. Then reality flashed back in and all I saw was Justin shaking in a coma.

"What do we do?" Sandy asked.

"Call 9-11?"

"I don't know how we'll explain him getting hurt. 'Oh, our friend was eaten alive by a crazy vampire demon who prays on children.'"

"Well, what's your idea?"

Sandy sat there, staring at him. She grabbed the torn pieces of his shirt and began tying them tightly around him. When I assumed all the wounds were covered, Sandy began putting pressure on them by leaning most of her body weight onto her hands.

I didn't see Lamia until the last second. She lunged from nowhere, fangs clashing and invisible talons raised. I had just enough time to push Sandy out of the way. There was a clank as she dropped her dagger, but it was too late anyways. The vampire grabbed me and Justin, and in a whirl of darkness, we were gone. I struggled against the vampire Queen, trying to keep her gnashing fangs as far away as possible. We tumbled and turned in the darkness. With one hand, I kept the vampire Queen away. With the other, I held Justin tightly in my arms.

When the darkness dispersed, I had no idea where I was. Certainly not in the gym any more. Not even in Atlantic City. Now miles and miles of evergreen forests surrounded us.

Now the vampire stepped away and looked at me angrily. "W-what happened?" I stammered. "What did you do?"

"Shadow traveled," the Vampire hissed. "We are somewhere in Canada at the moment. But it seems I have grabbed the wrong child. My orders were to kill the Half Blood. But I can suffice with killing you. Food is food; I can't afford to be picky."

She lunged again, but this time I was ready. I'm not sure how, but Sandy's knife had traveled with us. I grabbed it and slashed it across her pretty face. Lamia screamed, and shadows began to swirl around her. I grabbed Justin and jumped on Lamia, just as she "shadow traveled" again. We tumbled and kicked in total darkness. I thought I was going to hurl, and it felt like my life force was being drained out of me but the shadows themselves.

When we landed again, I didn't wait. I thrusted the knife as hard as I could through the monster's heart. Lamia hissed and squealed, trying to buck me off. One last time I saw the flicker of a woman with long sharp fangs, cold eyes, bat wings and long talons. Then she exploded in a cloud of gold dust.

I wheezed and coughed, trying to get evaporated demon out of my lungs. Then I collapsed and began to heave. Nothing came out, but my head was too sick to care. Note to self: never, EVER shadow travel again. As soon as I could, I crawled over to Justin and collapsed next to his limp body.

I looked around, wondering where I was. My vision was fading quickly, but I still had enough time to try to figure out how far from home I was. We were inside, and the walls were either dark grey or black. Black marble columns stood on either side of the walls. My vision became shaky, and my last thought was, "Am I dying? Dad would kill me if I died." And then everything went black.