Charlie Bone-Static Charged Love
1
Meeting the Church's

Okay here is a Charlie Bone story that I've had on my computer for a while and I finally decided to upload it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie Bone or any of the characters I do how ever own Amelia, her mum and any other characters not from the books and this storyline.

I want to thank Bahamut PURE for beta-ing my story! This first chapter is for you! Please Review and inform me of what you think.

Two people stood in the darkness of the night; the moon was a no-show tonight, leaving just the streetlights on, which, at this time, were flashing on and off. The younger of the two had tanned skin which showed a life of someone that spent most of their time outside.

Her steel gaze, almost like a storm, was filled with kindness, but as she looked at the building across the road from them, they filled with a foreign emotion that seemed like hatred. Her hair, the colour of bronze, was styled into spikes and braids that gave it a messy appearance. The way she messily did her hair would give people the impression that she didn't put much time or thought into the way she dressed herself for a public meeting or outing.

Her clothes gave her the look of a country girl that had just come back from mustering. Her jeans were dusty and torn at the knees, her flannelette shirt was open, the buttons having been ripped off, showing a black singlet that was dirty, complete with brown Redwings boots. A cross attached to a black choker at her neck was the only sign that she cared about her appearance in the slightest.

She glanced at the older woman next to her who was eyeing the building in front of them with glazed eyes. Through her tanned skin you could nearly make out rosy cheeks, high cheek bones, and a soft jaw line. Her face was finished off with pale red lips that formed a straight line, and they showed her discomfort with the current situation.

"Are you sure this is the only place I can go?" she asked, her voice sounded kind and sweet. But there was something else mixed in with her normal tone; one she couldn't seem to describe.

"Yes, dear, this is," her mother replied. Her blue eyes looked slightly troubled; she bit her lip and played with her hands. "This is the only place where you will be safe."

"But, Mother, what about you?" the daughter asked. She glanced at the building again. 'This looks like a place filled with horror,' she thought, looking at the dark building.

From where she was standing, hidden in the shadows she saw her new school, Bloor's Academy, as a school where children dreaded to go. A place where nothing good happened, where all the teachers were old and mean and nasty, people who made sure that their students' lives at the school were made worse.

"I'll be fine, Amelia," her mother reassured the stressed-out girl. Amelia didn't look older then fifteen, maybe sixteen at the oldest. She was short, with a small amount of concern for how she made herself appear. She didn't want to stand out from the crowd.

"But what if-"

"No!" her mother snapped. "No 'what ifs', OK? I'll be fine, and you'll be fine, now let's get back to the house; you have school tomorrow."

The mother walked away stiffly, her back straight and shoulders pulled back. Her blonde hair looked dull and lanky, like it hadn't had a proper treatment in years. Her clothes were more appealing than her hair; it gave her the outward look of a businesswoman.

Amelia shot one last look at the school building, and her heart filled with rage as she remembered the man that made her mother the way she was now, he who had made them move away.

The light globes in the street exploded in a thundering bang that made Amelia jump. Her heart race increased as she looked around, but realised that the loud noise was her fault. Sighing in annoyance, she followed after her mother, being very careful to watch where she was walking not wanting to fall over.

Her mother heard the mutter of a curse and turned around to see her daughter picking herself up from falling over.

"Dear, do try not to fall over too much," she giggled as her daughter gave her a playful glare. "We wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself tomorrow."

"And you know that I couldn't care less what they think of me," Amelia stated in a matter-of-fact voice as she came level with her mother and they started the long walk home not that either of them minded it at all. "That school really gives me the creeps."

"Amelia, try not to be too...standoffish," her mother told her. "Try to be how you used to be before...before all that happened, OK, dear?"

"Can't promise anything, ma'am," she stated, her Australian accent ringing through the streets as she gave a small bow to her mother and ran off. Tripping a lot of the time while doing so made her mother laugh, which was what she had wanted.

She wanted to hear her mother's laugh and to hear her sweet voice as she sang. She wanted to hear the soothing angel like tone that was always in her mother's voice before it happened.

Amelia woke to the sound of her alarm clock screaming some pop song at her. Her eyes snapped open in horror as she slammed her hand down onto the infuriating clock, stopping the song in the middle of a rather uncouth line.

"Mum!" she shouted still half asleep. "Did you change my radio onto some crap pop station again?" Her voice filled at her irritation as she fiddled with the dial trying to get it back to her favourite station - the Country Channel.

"No, sorry, sweetie!" her mother called back. 'Well, it didn't change itself,' Amelia thought, but let it go. She swung her feet out from under the warmth of her blankets and rubbed her eyes.

"Yay, the start of a school week in that creep of a school!" she muttered in mock joy punching the air very slowly. "Well, at least I'm in Art."

Walking down the stairs in her England house, her hair was the same messy way as it had been the night before, and she didn't show any indication of fixing it. She wore the Bloor's school uniform and held the green cape that was necessary for the Art students.

She draped the cape over a chair in the kitchen and looked around for something to eat. Her clothes and other things essential for Bloor's school life was already in her dorm as someone had came by the other day to take it. But a bag was sitting near the chair with her art books and other things in it.

Her eyes scanned the kitchen room. The walls were a grey colour that matched Amelia's eyes. There was a wooden table in the middle of the room with four chairs around the edge.

The bench went all the way around the wall from the right side of the door to the left. It was a rather big kitchen. The fridge was directly opposite the door where Amelia stood. The microwave was in a little cubby on a shelf to the right of the fridge. The oven was on the left wall. No toaster was visible.

Along the rest of the bench were boxes. The sink was on the right side of the kitchen directly opposite the oven, the draws were below the microwave, and the cupboards were all before one entered the kitchen.

"Mother! What can I have for breakfast?" she shouted into the house.

When her mother didn't answer, she raised an eyebrow, turning slowly on the spot trying to locate her mother. She scratched her throat and frowned. Her tendency to scratching her throat while thinking had started when she reached year four back in Australia and stayed with her since.

"Boo!" a voice in her right ear breathed. Amelia jumped into the air and screamed.

"Holy crap!" she shouted along with a few other choice words. "You know you're not meant to do that." She exclaimed from the floor having tripped over her own feet and landed rather hard on the floor. Her hand was over her heart willing it to go back to its normal speed.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist the urge," her mother sighed. "And I'm sorry to say this, but you're such a klutz!" Amelia let out a sigh of exaggeration and nodded her head picking herself up.

"Yes, I know and I don't need you reminding me," she muttered. "Now, would you mind driving me to the bus stop, or are you taking me to school?"

"Taking." her mother told her walking out of the house. "Come along, my darling klutz." She started whistling a happy tone that Amelia remembered from her childhood.

"Hey that's 'Years from Now' by Dr. Hook!" she exclaimed, bouncing out of the front door and unexpectedly she didn't fall over. "I love that song!"

The front yard was covered in red and black and white and pink flowers of all different sorts. Their house was in the Heights, next to a big house with wrought-iron gates. A judge lived there, from what they gathered when they bought the house.

Her mother was already waiting for her in a black Ute. Just as she was about to get in somebody walked out of the house next door, they were wearing Bloor's Academy school uniform for the boys. He had dark skin, telling Amelia that he was African. His dark hair was in dreadlocks.

Amelia stopped in her movements and watched the other boy - younger by about a year - walk towards a car. Something about this boy made her stop and stare.

"Mother...do you feel that?" she asked looking back at her mother who was tapping the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song was on.

"Yes...I do believe that he is endowed, now get in or you will be late," Amelia sighed and took one last look at the boy before getting in the car.

"Can all endowed people feel when there's another Endowed person around?" she asked as they drove down the road and into the town.

"I don't think so...the Church family is just different," her mother told her. "Now I want you to behave while you're at school, OK? No zapping anyone."

"I promise not to do that, but I don't promise to trust people easily," she agreed. "Say...does the school know that I'm endowed?"

"Yes."

"Great..." Amelia trailed off with a curse.

"And try not to curse too much, honey," her mother warned. They were silent until they pulled up in front of Bloor's Academy, which looked slightly better in daylight than it did in the dark.

"This place still gives me the creeps," she sighed and looked at her mother. "I promise to be good." She leant across and gave her mother a small peck on the cheek. "Love you, Mum, see you on Saturday."

"Love you too, honey!" her mother replied with a cheery tone. "Now, I don't want to be getting any phone calls about you getting detention already." Amelia lent against the window and gave her mother one of her serious looks.

"Mother, I don't plan on spending any more time away from you then I need do," she told her. "So don't worry."

Amelia step away from the car and slowly made her way towards the school she really didn't want to go to but went anyway to put her mother at ease. She didn't trip until she got into the mass of the school kids from age's eleven to about seventeen maybe eighteen.

The school kids were wearing blue, green or purple capes. From what Amelia read about her school purple capes were for the Drama students and blue was for the Music and green was for the Art students.

Amelia gazed around and felt closed in, resembling the feeling of having no escape. Her breathing started getting faster as her heart rate increased, her paranoia really kicking in at this point, as she spun around looking for a way out.

She felt herself trip and fall before realizing what was happening. She braced herself for the impact of the ground and a moment later felt it. 'I hate my klutziness! Who in the name of bloody hell gave it to me?'

"Hey, are you alright?" a voice asked her. She looked up and saw the boy from before. She felt her tanned cheeks heat up as the blush spread across her features. He was handsome; there was no doubt about that.

"Um...yes, thank you," she mumbled gathering her stuff. She looked around for her art book but didn't see it. The boy was now kneeling down to her level as she was still sitting on the floor.

"Here, I believe this is yours," he held out her art book.

"Thanks," she hated herself for being so shy. "I am a really big klutz." She muttered as an after thought. The boy laughed as he stood up and offered her his hand. Hesitantly she placed her hand inside his and let him pull her up.

"I'm Lysander," he said holding out his hand.

"Amelia," she said shaking the hand. "Um...you wouldn't happen to know where I'm meant to go, would you?" she asked not looking into his eyes, she didn't look into he's eyes throughout the whole exchange.

"Yes, yes, I do." He smiled charmingly at her. "Let me be your guide, miss." She let out a small giggle and let him lead her up the stairs and into the hall. "We have to be quiet in here." he muttered. She nodded in understanding and looked up seeing three doors.

"Sander!" a voice called out, making Lysander flinch. "Wait up!" Amelia looked around and saw a boy with yellow hair that seemed to crackle with electricity. Amelia stared at his hair with interest.

"Tanc, you know we're not supposed to talk in-"

"Torsson, Sage, what are the rules?" another boy, much older than them, with coal black eyes, asked, glaring upon them. Amelia frowned. She hadn't even noticed his presence until he spoke. She briefly glanced into his eyes but looked away sharply.

"Silence in the hall,

Talking not at all,

Never cry or call,

Even if you fall,

Be you small or tall," The two boys said.

"Right, detention on the-"

"They were only helping me," Amelia cut in. She didn't know why she did, she doesn't trust people easy but something about these two made her want to step in. There was always something about the older male standing in-front of them that worried her. "I'm new and they were helping me."

"Well, girl, you better learn the rules and do not interrupt me," the older boy said. "I'm Manfred Bloor, a teaching assistant, and you three just got a detention." And with that he walked off leaving a fuming Amelia behind.

The lights started to react to her anger, they flickered on and off, she made herself calm down before anyone noticed but unfortunately Manfred Bloor didn't miss it. Lysander turned to her and shook his head.

"You shouldn't have said anything," he told her. "Let's go." He led them across the floor and through the door that had a paintbrush. "Right, then. Tancred, this is Amelia, you know, the new girl that Mr. Delf told us about."

"Nice to meet you, Amelia," Tancred said smiling at her. Something told her that she didn't like the fact that they seemed to already know that she was meant to be there.

"Same." she mumbled. "Something was off about that boy; I didn't like him or trust him."

"Who? Manfred?" Tancred asked, walking forwards towards a girl with blonde hair. Amelia didn't like it, but she walked with them. "There's something wrong with all the Bloors around here."

"Hey, Sander, Tanc," the blonde girl said, turning around and smiling. "Who's this?"

"I'm Amelia," Amelia said, nodding but not looking her in the eye.

"How old are you?" she asked. "I'm Emma."

"Sixteen, why?" Amelia got all defensive and tried to calm herself down. 'Not everyone's out to get you, Amelia, calm down. Not everyone is working for him, and I don't even think he knows that we moved here.'

"Oh...you won't be in any of my classes, what a shame." The girl's voice sounded so disappointed that Amelia couldn't help but look in her eyes; however, she sharply turned her head.

"Yeah...shame," Tancred and Lysander were watching this scene with interest.

"You know, Amelia...you're really...different," Tancred said, Amelia raised an eyebrow at that comment and prayed that they wouldn't ask her why she didn't look anyone in the eye. "Hey, I just realised something. You know how Billy said something about us getting a new endowed student well, Amelia has to be her, so, this is going to have us one more person then Manfred!"

"Huh?" Amelia asked.

"Well, there has to be balance between the good and the bad endowed. Manfred, he's endowed and leads the bad side. Charlie Bone, you'll meet him later, he's sort of the leader of the good side," Lysander explained. "What is your gift?"

"You'll find out," Amelia muttered. Already she was being too nice. She couldn't help it, it was her natural self and these people seemed so nice. "Shouldn't we be getting to class?"

"Right...Matt!" Tancred called out, catching the attention of another boy. "You're in the same year as Amelia; could you show her where to go?"

"Sure," Matt nodded. "Right this way." Matt was tall and held himself with confidence, but didn't seem to be cocky or stuck up. He had light red hair and green eyes. He was pale and seemed to have a faraway look in he's eyes. He didn't talk much which suited Amelia fine.

He led her out of the cloakroom and down a hallway. Amelia looked around and saw portraits of different people. Matt seemed to, out habit or maybe out of nervousness, tap his thigh to a beat of something that Amelia couldn't hear.

Her first day at Bloors was going to be interesting, she could feel it.