Chapter One

Introductions

We lived in Nazareth. Nazareth, Pennsylvania, in the absolute middle of nowhere, as far as I was concerned. What were we close to? Bethlehem. The only thing in Bethlehem was a whole lot of steel. And Allentown. Besides having a nice theme park, its claim to fame was having a bad song written about it.

I was fourteen in 2002. My sister Hannah was fifteen, and my little sister Jadie was twelve. My parents were… however old they were.

Hannah was blonde, pretty, and the exact opposite of what I was. (With good reason, since long blonde, perfectly permed hair would look rather bizarre on a boy). I had short, dark hair, barely reaching my ears and never staying straight until I attacked it several time with a comb. Hannah was always talking, smugly secure in all that she did, whereas I was awkward, sometimes shy and sometimes sarcastic, angry and obnoxious. Yes, Hannah and I were as different as night and day – and my parents realized it… Of course. Parents seem to realize those things, I guess.

My mother, Amelia, was a secretary in Rosen, Stein, Hindel & Sanchez, the law firm where my father, Simon, worked as a lawyer. Yet we weren't super-rich or anything like that. We just… were.

Hannah's full name was Hannah Tiffany Iscariot. I had always made a point of curling up my nose at my parents' naming choice. I mean – TIFFANY! What? However, she, being Hannah, loved it, always confidently snapping, "My name is Hannah T. Iscariot."

My full name, on the other hand, was Judas Dylan Iscariot. I remember hissing and protesting, when younger, that "no one is named Judas anymore". My best friend's mother, however, liked the name and named one of her sons it. He goes by Jude.

Now, I've talked none about my younger sister, Jadie, so I will now. Jadie's full name was Jadeline Nefara Iscariot. The Nefara has an interesting story behind it. We moved to Nazareth when I was five, and before that, we lived in Kerioth. This was (obviously) before we moved to Nazareth. We had a rather eccentric neighbor, who suggested my parents give Jadie the middle name "Nefarious". They then gave her the middle name "Nefara". My parents are too open to suggestion.

They can also get rather angry if hexed. For example, one day in the summer before I started at Judea High School, I was rinsing plates. The plates had been labeled as "Unbreakable". I was getting a kick out of this, and planned to figure out whether or not this was true. While I was debating on whether or not to throw one of the little cups on the floor to see what happened, a knock came on the door. I walked to it and beheld the face of my friend and neighbor, Joshua bar-Joseph.

Since Joshua was a very common name around here, he went by the rather odd nickname "Jesus" (apparently it's the Greek version or something, but don't quote me.) He lived next door to us, and his cousin John lived across the street. Jesus had six brothers and sisters (it was his mother who had named one of her sons Judas). He was tall, and lanky, with straight black hair, and he wore glasses. He had been born in Bethlehem (steel country) and according to rumor was supposed to be some kind of God, or Son of God or something along those lines. I didn't really like to ask him about it, because it's one of those things that just doesn't come up in conversation that often.

"Judas," he said simply, grinning a sweet smile and leaning on my railing.

"Hey, Jesus," I said, showing him the plate in my hand, "My mom bought these. They're supposed to be 'unbreakable'." As Jesus opened his mouth to protest, I flung the plate on the ground and watched as it didn't break. However, it DID bounce, and shot into the metal of the refrigerator and smashed into what seemed like a million pieces. Jesus' mouth continued to gape as, with a flinching look coming across his face, he pointed to the back of me. Behind me was my mother – and she began to run in my direction as I flung open the screen door, piled on top of Jesus and began motoring down the rock road.

We rocketed down the alley of King's Cross (which is the name of the street we lived on); well, I rocketed and Jesus was being propelled by my motions.

"Can I come over your house?" I implored desperately. He sighed.

"Of course…" And we made our way to the back of his house. He opened up his back door, and we were greeted by the sound of his two younger sisters, Kristina and Elizabeth, singing:

"Tic tac toe, three in a row,

Barney got shot by a G.I. Joe,

Momma called the doctor and the doctor said…

Whoops! Barney's dead!

Got shot in the head!"

Another girl, who, if I remembered correctly, was a friend of Kristina's, added in:

"The cow in the pasture goes moo,

The cow in the pasture goes moo,

The farmer hits him on the head and grinds him up

And that's how we get hamburgers!"

"Oh, hi, Judas," said Kristina, giggling, "We're just singing strange antisocial songs."

"What else is new?" Jesus joked.

"What's new with you, Judas?" Kristina asked. She was a pretty thirteen-year-old with curly black hair and dazzling hazel eyes. She was a goth.

"Not much. I got in trouble."

"What else is new?" echoed Kristina.

So began another insanity-filled year of being Judas Iscariot… Now ready to attack high school.