My grandfather has always taught me that a new morning means a new day. A day to bring light into your own life. Well, as the sunrise lit up the opposite sky out my window, my world just seemed to be getting darker.
I pulled a black top over my head, and sat down on the windowsill. There was no way in hell that this was happening. Not today. I could maybe deal with it tomorrow. Maybe.
As I watched the peak of the trees in the Haven Forrest got their first blast of sun, and I knew it was time to go. If I went too early, they would know I bailed. If I left to late, well that just screamed Hey, Damillia isn't doing what you ordered her to do. Time to lock the cuffs on her!
I quietly opened my window, got in a better leaping position, and braced my hands on the sill. It was a good three story drop, but I knew I wouldn't be hurt by it. I had been trained better. Better than what I was being forced to do. Freaking forced. I leaned forward, mentally preparing myself to jump when-
"Now Demi, I know you've been taught better than that. You wouldn't have been able to close the window when you left."
The sound of my dad's voice made me jump, causing my head to thwak against the top of the open window. Rubbing the top of my head, and with my cheeks turning a deep crimson, I repositioned myself to sit on the sill and turned to face the horror I knew was coming. My dad was standing at my door, a lopsided grin on his face. I knew I had two good seconds to think up a good excuse why he had caught me with one foot out my window and that I was clearly in clothes for training and traveling, when I should be acting like a good girl and going along with dressing for and going to the imprisonment they had planned for me.
"I…wasn't leaving. I was...simply looking at the, uh, sunrise…" I didn't have to look out my window or his face to know he didn't, heck couldn't believe me. After all, my room had a wrong angle for early morning sun gazing.
"I see," he said, his sly grin growing bigger. "So why aren't you in the lovely new uniform of yours?"
Well, I had one option to use. I stood up and walked towards my wardrobe. I pulled out a uniform from hell, still wrapped in the bioplastic my mother had basically invented. I hadn't even unwrapped the ugly excuse for an outfit. I held it up "Well, I couldn't very well go for a nice morning run in this, er, thing."
"A morning run?"
"Yeah."
"Out your window, when there is a perfectly good training room right down the hall?"
Well, that screwed myself over pretty good. The sarcastic smile seemed pretty glued to his face. His blue eyes bore into mine. I gave him the same look, my smile was definably fake and without emotion, but I could match his gaze exactly. That was one thing everyone said made me look like my dad- the same powerful aqua eyes, the same strong gaze. I was just having issues with that. With all his past experiences he could use that gaze to break people- something I couldn't do.
It took all of 2 seconds to break me.
I was 100% sunk. It was time for Plan B. God, I hated Plan B.
"Please let me stay home-schooled by Grandpa! Or just let me teach myself from now on! PLEASE! Anything he hasn't taught me, you or Mom have, and you know I'm a fast learner. I hate the Academy." I stomped my boot on the floor for good measure, clenched my fists to my sides, and looked down. "I hate being forced into this. I just hate all of this! Please! I'll do anything!" I felt tears on my face. My dad's face instantly went from sarcastic and stern to sympathetic.
I had done it. He could break me with but a glance, but with a sad whine and a few tears, the man who had defeated demons who wanted nothing less than the world, as well as the demons in himself, would fall to his knees for me. Don't get me wrong; I used this talent very rarely. I hated-and I very much stress the word hate-being girly and whiney, but this was an emergency. He opened his mouth, to tell me he was sorry, or that I didn't have to go, or…
"Now Jak, watch yourself." My mom, whose looks very much showed how well the years treated her, stood in the doorway pinning her hair up. My dad had fruitlessly persuaded her to keep it short like when they were younger, so now her thick indigo hair went a little passed her elbows and was always tied into either a messy knot at the top of her head, or a neat French braid down her back. Her face was playful, but her eyes were serious.
My dad's face lost its sorry look, but he still seemed to be thinking my plea over. He turned to my mom. "Keira, does she have to go to the Academy?" My whining hadn't worn off yet! I still had a chance!
She gave my dad a knowing look, almost sad, and said to me, "This is a great opportunity. Don't let it get away from you. I know you both hate it now, but one day it will all be worth it." A great opportunity, huh? For who?
He tried to protest, but she grabbed his arm and shook her head. My dad gave me a look telling me he hated it too, but there wasn't a thing he could do. I wiped my face. It took all my power to not get mad. To scream, yell, show exactly how I felt on this. I could still fight. Walk right into that council room and…
But, either way, I still had no choice.
My mom sighed. She then pointed at the uniform in my hand and then pulled my still sympathetic father from the room. I heard their footsteps going down the stairs. When the sound faded, I sighed, threw the still wrapped uniform on my bed, and went back to the window.
I took a few breaths. Not overreacting would defiantly help my situation. I let the breeze brush my long blond, green, and blue hair out of my face. After a few seconds, my emotions called down.
I was actually good at controlling my emotions. My dad had been teaching me for years. It's kind of an important thing with our family. When your body can naturally channel Eco due to genetics and a touch of training, letting yourself overreact can be a bit of a big deal.
I slowly let another plan begin to formulate as I turned back to my bed, which was way too huge and cushy to be really comfortable, and walked over to put on the monstrosity that laid there waiting. I tore the plastic off, which at the tear disintegrated into thin air. Even when I was furious with my mom, I had to admit her inventions were awesome.
I sighed and grumbled under my breath as I put the hideous thing on. I didn't hate the uniform in the sense that it made me look ugly. In fact, it helped show off my figure. I didn't have the day-long curves my mom did, but the button-up short-sleeve white blouse showed of my flat stomach and the little angles I had in my waist. It didn't make my half-flat chest look half bad either. The skirt, on normal girl, would have made her legs look long and gangly. But I had been running since before I could walk, and the blue plead skirt showed my lean legs off nicely.
No, it wasn't the uniform it's self that made me hate it. It was what it stood for.
There was one thing that made me hate my future prison a little less, and that was that I could wear my own shoes, belt, and jewelry and that I could carry my own bag. I tucked the blouse into the skirt and wrapped my favorite belt-black with a Freedom League buckle-around my waist. I kept my high boots on, as they would help the plan that my mind was already formulating.
I sighed as I had to reach under my bed to grab the little bag my mom had just gushed over me having because it "was just so familiar." Ok, yes, a leather bag with metal accents was "familiar". My dad has always them, and given the old ones to me. In fact, one of the old ones was what I was going to use. But my mom wanted something new and familiar. But not familiar enough to make the prison they were sending me to any less strange and scary.
I looked in the small mirror half-hazardly hung on the wall. This mirror went with me everywhere, sort of like a stuffed animal is to others. Half of the edges were covered with pictures: Jarend, Rolan, and me, all in out swimsuits in Haven Forest acting like fools; my dad and me both on a zoomer, his face showed fear of my first time driving one; my mom, dad and me as a child all smiling in the Naughty Ottsel; me hugging Grandpa. The rest of the pictures that used to be taped there had been taken down by my mom so I could , and I quote, "make new friends and make new pictures with them". In order to not look at the black spaces void of family and my two best friends too long, I quickly tied my waist-length hair in a knot.
Before I could change my mind, I shoved all the clothes I had just stripped out of into my "familiar" bag. Followed by the Academy Handbook. I was about to walk out the door, but I stopped. I mean, why waste a perfectly good open window? I had time.
Since my parents travel a lot, between Haven, Kras, Spargus, Aeropea, and other cities for racing, we have no real permanent home. Well, they don't. I do now: The palace. After the big siege 20 years ago, the palace was rebuilt, same place, same height. The only difference is in the design. Now, it's like a big, blocky, triangular building on a huge, high platform. On the side of the official palace (thrown room, conference rooms, militia tracking rooms), the outside platform is plain concrete for vehicles and such. But on the side with the living quarters, it looks like a huge park in the sky, with pools and trees and even a small garden. Lucky for me, I had a room with a view, and an easy jumping point with good tree camouflage.
I braced on the ledge, held my breath and jumped. I loved the feeling of falling: the rush, the adrenalin. The landing wasn't half bad either. I hit the soft grass with a roll, grateful that no one was around, the skirt was so short, and landed in a perfect crouch. I exhaled, feeling better than I had all morning. My bag hit the grass with a very satisfying riiiiiip noise. I stood up and aligned myself.
"Early leave?"
I jumped in surprise to the gentle voice from above me. I looked up to see Rolan, next in the line to throne after my dad declined, lounging on a thick branch. His wavy light brown hair fell in curls around his cheeks. His cocky smile rivaled my father's. I felt my cheeks flush. What a way to be caught. Even if he was one of my best friends, he was still like an older brother, and under the influence of his father, a huge tattler.
I shrugged. "Where's your uniform?" I challenged.
"Room." His green eyes flashed with enjoyment.
"Your room? What about…that place?"
"That place?" he asked as he hopped down. "Just go ahead and say it. Haven Academy. It won't kill you." He began to walk in a circle around me, as if to observe me. "It's not a prison like you think it is."
I wheeled around to face him. "To you it may not be, but I'd rather die than go to that hellhole!"
He bent down to look me in the eyes. He had a good half-foot on me. He pulled his glasses down his nose to seem to get a better look. "Damilla, calm down. I promise it won't be that bad. You could grow up a bit. "
"Gro-! Wha- ! I-!"
"I'm kidding. You'll be ok. My lips are sealed." He rolled his eyes and while snickering under his breath, began to walk towards the big glass doors to ender the living quarters.
"Not funny," I mumbled, as I stormed around to wall dividing the living quarter portion of the platform for the vehicles, to get my personal hand-crafted zoomer. I flashed my I.D. to get the door to the personal vehicles open, and heard him yell one more thing.
"See you at the Academy, Dalla!" I hated that nickname! He normally was the only person who could get away with calling me that, but right now he was just fanning the fire. I slammed the door loudly behind me. I grabbed my zoomer and instead of pushing it to the vehicle elevator, I jumped on it and let the engine scream its way there.
Once I was in the elevator, I realized Ronal was probably trying to make me feel better. He had listened to my rants for the last month, patted me on the back, and even snuck me out of the palace a few times when his father wasn't around. I'd have to say something later.
If I was around later to say something. He was a good little boy, never late and never leaving early. I know, I used to wait for him to be released from…Haven Academy. Ugh, just thinking the full name made me feel sick.
When the elevator hit the bottom, I, as much as you can in an anti-gravity zoomer, floored it and took off through the back alleyways to get as much speed as I could. I had escaped. Well, except for the tracker that was bleeping, alerting me I was going the wrong way.
Of flipping course. I veered around to go the way it was going before the entire city's FL was on my tail. I'd have to find a way to either dismount or turn that thing off later.
It's not like my mom would be around to fix it.
The gentle traffic that came with the early morning required little of my attention, so I let my mind wander to continue with a plan B, as running on my zoomer was out of the count. Before I could come up with anything decent, I was at the prison's, I mean…Haven Academy's…gates.
"Day one of hell," I said to myself, as I drove in. At least the high walls proved to be just that-I could still see the sky. One decent thing. One. At least I could park my zoomer in daylight.
I got of my zoomer and prepared myself for the walk into the huge 4-story building.
"Bigger and scarier than anything you've ever faced, huh Dad?" I mumbled as I walked inside.
Everything was white.
"Where am I?" she screamed
Everything went black….