CHAPTER ONE
The pen was not worth stealing, most certainly, and completely, not worth it.
This is my one and only thought process as I knock on the door to the Detention room, after school on the last day of term. Ms. Robinson's croaky voice calls through the door for me to enter, so I do.
The room is cleared out apart from two desks, the others all stacked neatly to the side with rows of stacked chairs in front of them. A single, small oak desk with a plastic chair sat in the middle of the room, I am the only one stupid enough to get detention on the last day of term anyways. The large, pine desk that Ms. Robinson currently occupied sat at the front, in front of a large blackboard.
I shuffled in and dropped my bag on the floor. Dropping myself into the small plastic chair, I blew my dyed-turquoise fringe back to the correct side of my face and stared up at Ms. Robinson, this was a routine for us. I would get in trouble for one thing or another and would always end up here. I don't think I've had a Friday walk home with my brothers since I was in pre-school and they couldn't give you detentions.
Ms. Robinson is a thin old lady with a hunchback and grey hair that was pulled back into a bun so tight that it stretched her face so it almost looked wrinkle free, almost being the operative word in that sentence. Her neon red dress was printed with – also neon – green flowers that made her look like a walking 'hazard' sign, she's the teacher in charge of my year's detentions, so – thanks to me – she has to stay late every day.
She shuffled her way over to me in neon red heels and slammed down sheet after sheet of – what I would assume – were tests that needed marking. Then finally she drops a four page, stapled together sheet of paper that has markings of red pen all over.
I grimace and glance up at the old woman who just gives me a wicked grin before returning back to her desk to retrieve something else for me. Usually I just get in trouble for 'being too loud', or 'not paying attention'. I'm not usually caught for the stuff I take, so as the ADHD dyslexic I am known to be, this is my punishment for getting caught.
Ms. Robinson knows I take all the things I do, but she usually lets me off, I don't know why, she just shuffles away in her 5 inch heels muttering about the timelines not being right or that the knots were almost complete. She's a bit crazy like that.
I reach into my pocket to find a pen to begin my marking when the scratchy voice cut through my thought process.
"Ah ah ah, dearie! You won't need that! Since you seem to enjoy my pens so much, I thought you should borrow one!" The wicked grin pulls at her face once more, making her look like an evil; human ventriloquist dummy.
I sigh as she hobbles over to me once more and drops a simple, black pen onto the desk in front of me.
I sigh as I pick it up and begin to mark. The only sounds that fill the room are Ms. Robinson's heavy breathing, my constant shuffling from ADHD and my pen scratching the paper. It takes me about three times as long as it would another, my dyslexia making the numbers go everywhere. The good thing is its only maths I'm marking, that has a straight answer that doesn't take long to decipher, if it was English, or Latin that the She-devil gave me, we would both be here till doomsday.
I have almost finished my pile, but a dry laugh snaps me out of my daze. I glance up at the old hag to see her simply staring at me, she had no work, not even a pen; nothing – she just keeps staring at me. I shuffle uncomfortably and pick up my pen again, attempting to continue when her dreary laugh cut me off once more.
"You know, Miss Williamson, I do believe that you have done more of my marking this year than I have, which is quite a shame really, considering I'm not even a real teacher." My eyebrows furrow in confusion at her statement. I pick up the pile of marked tests and dropped them into a scruffy pile on the large desk.
"You've been here before, you know how this works." She waves her hand towards the clipboard aimlessly as she begins to check through my pile of marking.
I signed my name on the clipboard for today's date, under all the other signing of my names from my detentions on earlier dates. All just read two very simple words. Meredith Williamson. My name fills up every blank spot on this paper, and I bet you the other pages up to about September 2007, when I first joined the hell-hole that is 'Farworth School for Troubled Youngsters'.
I throw open the door into the empty hallway and begin to sprint down, but just as I reach the stairs my memory gets the better of me and I remember that my bag is still in the classroom with She-devil. I wouldn't care, but mum would probably kill me because that would make the third bag I've lost in a year.
I sigh and take one last glance at the doors at the bottom of the stairs. With one last outing of breathe, I turn and wander to the room I was sat in only moments ago, but ,me being me, I make some mischief on the way, taking board pens from the Principal's office. I drew all over the walls on the way. Not my best work, but I didn't have time to prepare much else.
Finding the door labelled 'DETENTION AREA' in that stupid Comic sans font that fills the hallways of this school. Of course, I don't have enough patience to stand and attempt to read it, but I can recognize the annoying shapes of letter anywhere I go.
Tugging on the door, I soon realise its locked. Sighing I rake my hand through my hair, desperately wishing the door to be unlocked; I can't handle mum's super-annoyed face. I've been in detention so many days after school I think mum believes that this is the normal ending time for school.
I sigh, knowing I'll have to use my special skill. I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. Putting my hand on the keyhole, I focus on an image of the tumblers, o them unlocking. And as I focus on the last tumbler, I hear a soft click, letting me know that it worked.
Shrugging off my superpower, I open the door to see Ms. Robinson and two other ladies that look exactly like her, all just sitting and knitting. They all look at me, and grin an awful smile.
I slowly skirt around them, keeping my back to the wall to be as far away as possible.
Grabbing my neon green bag, I followed my path to get there while sliding my bag onto my back, its only neon green because mum said I wouldn't lose it anywhere then, or accidentally take someone else's, but she knows I take others' on purpose.
I always steal things really. Mum says that it's not my fault, it's in my blood. But I've never understood why she says this, because mum's probably the most goody-two-shoes you'll ever meet, while I am more of a baddy-one-shoe? Is that a thing? Anyways, we are basically polar opposites.
Mum has perfect, straight blonde hair, while mine is a dark brown that falls into tight ringlets. Hr curtains suit her soft features, but my left side parting and dyed turquoise fringe with a single streak down the right side of my head suit my straight nose and arched eyebrows. Her tall figure at 5'8 toward over my small 5'0 and her muscly build made me seem miniscule with my small, wiry frame.
I snap back to reality as the three creepy ladies look at me once more as they take out five different colours of wool.
A bright; bright yellow wool was first threaded next to black wool; creating a tight knot, they then tied together a dark red and a lighter; but kept both knots separate from one another, finally they took out silver thread, it wasn't grey like it should but it glowed in the light – like it had metal in it. They wrapped the silver thread around each of the knots tied, careful to make sure that it was tight. They tied it around the yellow and black first, then plaited it until tying the two yellow and black together once more, and then including the two red knots, before plaiting the three together.
They grin, showing me their creation. Despite the colours and the shapes, I feel drawn to it. I hesitantly walk forwards and reach out for it, but just as I am about to touch it, they snip it off – right where my fingers were. I squeak in shock as they violently grab my left wrist and tie the creation around it. They all stare at me; like I'm the last slice of pizza in the dorm room of broke University students.
I jerk my hand back, attempting to get free, but their vice grip holds me in place. They each place one hand on top of each other's and murmur some words, I think it is another language, but I still know exactly what they said.
"Fate binds us? What on earth does that mean?" I question the crazy ladies. They all glance back up at me, as if hearing my British accented voice reminds them I'm here, even though they are vice-gripping my wrist.
They keep a hold on my wrist, but now I begin to feel something, something awful. I scream in agony as my hand begins to feel as if it's on fire, starting from the bottom of my wrist on my underarm and then it wraps around the front of my wrist; spreading through my hands to the bases of my fingers, the back of my hand is worse; like a thousand fire-ants have crawled under my skin.
Then, as quickly as it started, it finished. My hand felt normal; no not normal, it felt better, like it had power running through the veins. But only my hand.
They don't answer me, just smile menacingly at me. I begin to back away, shaking my hand out of their grip.
"It's time to take her to camp, protector. Her destiny has begun." My eyebrows furrow as I think of their words. Protector? That can't be me? What do I protect? The legacy of thieves and pranking? But as I hear a sharp intake of breathe behind me, I know for a fact that it wasn't me they were talking to.
I turn just in time to see Kai Eisentsteen, the triplet's best friend, staring at me. He always walks me home, I don't know why. He has become a sort of fourth brother to me. When I turn his face is worried, but as soon as he sees my confused eyes, his face softens.
"Mer, we gotta go." His thick New York accent rips through the silence.
"But what abou-"I'm cut off as he gestures to behind me. As I turn, I gasp. The classroom is completely empty, literally, all the desks, chairs, even the detention log where I have signed my name so many a time is gone. All that remains is a single note on the floor, next to my feet. I pick it up hesitantly, as if it may contain images of Ms. Robinson naked.
I turn over the note to see cursive writing scrawled across it. Groaning, I pass it to Kai, knowing he - unlike me or my brothers - is dyslexia free. Even though I am very happy it isn't Ms. Robinson and her Satanic Cult doing rituals naked or whatever.
"Opposites may attract, but beware; as the light can only bring darkness." I raise my eyebrows at this statement. Kai just shrugs, his deep brown eyes scanning over the paper once more.
"That's it, that's all it says." I just nod blindly, too confused to try anything else.
I turn once more, surveying the room. It suddenly feels too hot in here, and I go to roll up my sleeves, my hand makes contact with something else.
I roll up my sleeve to take a proper look at the bracelet that the creepy Satanic Three placed on me. There are three bracelets, each tied together only with the silver thread.
The first is two plaits, running side by side. The silver thread runs through the middle of them, connecting them all together and making it one large bracelet. The odd thing about it is that there is no knot, nowhere it was tied onto my wrist. It's too small to take on and off, but there was no other way it could be on there.
The silver thread, once it has got to where I would assume was the start; or the end, either way – the two pieces that start and end it run up my arm to the next bracelet. The same thing has happened again with this; there is no knot to ties it on, and it is too tight on my wrist to even move. But the design is different on this one. The five colours have plaited together, the yellow and lighter red making one part of the plait; the darker red and black making the other. Again, the silver thread runs through on its own, as if they are all connected, but the silver is supposed to be alone.
But there was another plait, one I hadn't seen them make. There were three pieces of wool, each the same shade of blue-grey; like the triplets eyes. It simply wrapped around my wrist, before connecting with the silver thread and letting it continue on its way. It also had no knot, wrapped tightly around my wrist. But the silver thread didn't run through this one, it just connected with it. This confused me; but I continued on with my search of my new and apparently irremovable jewellery.
I look up at my hand and see that there is only the silver thread making the design this time. The two pieces of silver thread rap around separate sides of the top of my hand, wrapping around the base of each finger and creating a complicated pattern on the back of my hand. It looks like a stick, with two snakes wrapping around it- but as I examine the design of it, but what made the silver design on my hand different; it was in my hand. Literally, I followed the pattern down to the larger plait and see that as the thread leaves it, it goes into my skin, and then continue its design. It's connected perfectly. Like no one has ever cut it; or even touched the damn thing.
The entire bracelet fills up the whole of my left forearm, with the two lines of silver thread running up the inside of my arm. There was no thread on the inside of my palm, just the base of my fingers, it was so tight around my arm and hand that I could never fit a pair of scissors in between to cut it or a knife without severely injuring myself. But as I move and turn my arm, making my hand into a fist and stretching my fingers as far apart as possible, it moves perfectly with me. Stretching and turning as if it was part of my skin.
My eyes widened with shock at the discovery. Great, now I have a new, unwanted tattoo thanks to the Satan worshippers and three bracelets I surely won't get off anytime soon.
This is probably the longest I've ever stood still and concentrated on one thing.
Kai's voice snaps me out of my next thoughts. Well, more his yells.
I am suddenly pushed back into the classroom by Kai as he pulled out a pocket watch. I look past him to see a women, she looks probably around 40, with a black crop-top on that read the word 'Booty-full' in pink, sparkly cursive. Her hot pink mini-skirt was hardly a skirt; it was more of a belt, as it barely reached the top of her thighs. It had dodgy black sewing into it and three black buttons running down the front.
I recognize her immediately as our receptionist, Penelopë. You pronounce it like Pen-el-oh-pay; she's very picky about that. I roll my eyes at the older boy's jumpy nature and attempt to push past him.
He holds his crutch out to stop me and holds his pocket watch by the end of its chain and begins to swing it in fast circles through the air.
I step back in order to not be hit and watch as the swinging chain wraps around his arm and turns into a quiver on his back. The watch itself turns into a bow, which Kai then spins in his hand.
I'm pretty sure my mouth is open so wide you can see down my oesophagus, but I don't care. That was the coolest thing I have ever seen.
He takes a wooden arrow and knocks it into place on the bow; it looks like it was made by himself, with a knife, a log and some vines, but it's still the coolest thing ever.
He points the bow at Penelopë, and I shriek in shock.
"Dude, what? No you ant shoot the receptionist! Why didn't you shoot Satan's ritualists?" Kai doesn't even glance at me.
"How cute, the Demi-god believes receptionist is my true calling in life! And I suppose you've had a run in with the fates?" My eyebrows furrow. Okay, so she's not really a receptionist, I can guess that, she sucks at her job. She never answers the phones and won't even photocopy anything. But her voice had changed, it was suddenly so high pitched and posh, but full of an arrogance, instead of the airhead Jersey Shore girl that 'just don't care'.
The Satan's ritualists I'm assuming are what she called 'The Fates', the things in Greek Mythology that would be all creepy and prophesize and stuff? Oh well, this is too exciting to dwell on silly little details.
And what did she call me, Demi-God?
Kai grips his bow harder and lines up his aim once more as Penelopë begins to stroll the length of the room.
"Pasiphaë." He hisses the word as if it is venom. "How was the Underworld? Did Hades enjoy having yet another Witch that dishonoured his brother around?" And yet more Ancient Greece references, I slowly back up, attempting to reach for something I could use as a weapon. I trust Kai, and if he finds this 'Pasiphaë' a danger, then she most probably is.
She lets out an airy laugh, but it isn't sweet. It's more like the type of forced laugh you do when your mother tells an awful joke but you don't want to offend her.
"Oh, it was fantastic! Thank you for your kindness satyr. But you can put those sticks away." She says the word as if the metal tipped arrows are for children who want to play dress-up as Katniss Everdeen.
"I'm not here for a fight. But I did want to meet the fabled hero of this generation. So much to come from such a small mind, perhaps we should fix that, it'll help give you a little boost. " She gestures to me wildly as she speaks, but none of her words really sunk in. Until she said the last line that it.
I furrowed my eyebrows and thought over what she'd just said.
"What?" Was I could really think to say. She just rolled her eyes at me.
"Augh, you Demi-God's, never have enough patience to listen. Well, I suppose I can help with your attention skills." She waves her hand at me, and my head begins to spin.
Feeling myself fall, I grab onto the closest thing to me, which just so happens to be Kai. He holds onto me and gently lays me on the floor, he began to say something; but his voice is muffled in my ears.
I cover my ears as the noise he makes begin to get louder and clearer. My eyes flutter open and everything blurs around me. But I do see clear enough to make out the form of Pasiphaë as she strolled out of the door.
Kai's face hovered above mine and my eyes began to settle. He hovers over me, but my vision is so much more detailed. It's like watching a movie on the internet that was recorded in the cinema vs. watching the film in the cinema, in 3D and Blu-Ray.
Kai's deep brown eyes were filled with concern. His tanned skin was a deep olive, matching his dark, dark brown hair. His hair was styled so the fringe was swept to his left, just above his eyebrows.
His green hoodie hid an orange shirt underneath, both were baggy; but fir him well enough to seem normal. His blue jeans were also baggy, and his black trainers were slipping off his feet.
His crutches lay, abandoned, to the side as he kneeled over me.
I could have seen all that anyways. But now, I see everything. It's so weird, I can see a small scar, just under his eye on his cheek bone; a small mole was next to his eyebrow. His stubble was barely noticeable; but to me it was perfectly clear. I found this odd; considering (a) I've never noticed this before, and (b) we are thirteen.
I slowly sit up, tuning out the abnormally loud sound of his voice. I look around the classroom, at dust flying everywhere and the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. It looks like someone has put a camera filter on, well, everything.
I look back over at Kai and try to listen to what he was saying, but there are just too many sounds and I can't concentrate. Black spots begin to dance around the edge of my vision and I fall back to the floor once more.
The last thing I see is Kai taking out his phone in a rather panicked manner, before I slipped into unconsciousness.
Hi! Thanks for reading the first chapter, sorry its a bit slow, the first couple of chapters will be! Please rate and review! and if you have any characters you want me to look at I'll be happy to! This is my first story so if you tell me any good/bad things I'm happy to listen.
- Kisses
Saffea a.k.a mInUte2mArs