I do not own the Hunger Games, nor A.N.T. Farm. If I did, that'd be pretty sweet, but I don't, so... Yeah.
I appreciate comments, whether constructive criticism, suggestions, or encouragement! Thanks for reading, enjoy!
"Whatcha got there, Olive?" I asked, plopping down on the couch next to her. It was just a regular day in the A.N.T. Farm, and I had a whole hour ahead of me to relax before lunch. Olive was turning something rock-like in her hands, grey-ish but slightly iridescent, and about the size of a fist.
"I actually have no idea what it is," she answered.
"Can I see it?" I said. She handed it to me. It was rough, shiny, and very lovely. "Huh. Well, it's pretty. Where did you find it?" Olive pursed her lips.
"Um, in a dark corner of the school basement."
I laughed. "Why were you down there?"
"Hiding from Angus," she responded quietly.
"He just doesn't leave you alone, does he? What has it been, four years? He hasn't stopped crushing on you since sixth grade."
As if on cue, Angus walked into the room eating a piece of pizza. Noticing Olive, he slid into his computer chair and winked at her before returning to his food and putting on his headphones. "Sorry. I get what you go through. It's kinda like how Fletcher used to act, but all the time, nonstop," I noted.
"Fletcher wasn't that bad at all."
"Yeah, but I'm still glad he stopped liking me."
"... About that, Chyna, you should know-"
She was cut off by Fletcher entering the room carrying an art canvas. "Hey guys," he cheered. Olive and I stood up to greet him. "Hey, Fletcher, how was Art?" I asked.
"Great, we worked with paint, my favorite," he answered with a smile. After setting down his artwork, he came over to see what we were looking at.
"Check out this freaky rock," I said, handing it to him.
"Whoa, that's cool - Angus, come check this out!"
"Huh? What?" Angus mumbled, coming to join us.
"It's this weird thing... Wait, is that writing?"
Olive peered over Fletcher's shoulder to see clearer. Light cursive words that seemed to be part of the rock were barely visible. "Writing? Hey, I didn't notice that there before."
Fletcher squinted and read it out loud to us:
A cursed stone, a cursed school
Music, Knowledge, Art and Skill.
What can pay for the troubles of the past?
The Four can unlock something that will.
Music must sing the loveliest tune,
Knowledge, about the curse must know.
Art must paint the circle,
And Skill make the stone glow.
"That's all it says," said Fletcher.
"'A cursed stone, a cursed school, what can pay for the past?' And what 'the Four' have to do? I'm confused," said Angus.
I stuck my hand out and ran my fingers over the writing. "This is weird..."
Suddenly, Olive's eyes went huge. "Hey, I remember something about a school curse! Webster High School History, written by Randall Gringott, published 1996. It was a book in the school library. I didn't read everything about the curse, but I can find the book again."
"I don't really believe in old legends and stuff," I told them, "but I'll go check it out with you."
Olive and I took a trip down to the school library and had absolutely no trouble finding the book. The dusty top pages showed that not many students really cared that much about their school's past. After checking it out, we returned to the A.N.T. Farm to read together.
"The Webster High School Curse has been upon the school from the day the building was built," read Olive. "The grounds the school was established on was an old battleground, and people warned against building something there. A debate arose on whether or not they should leave the land untouched, as the town needed a school and there was virtually no other place to build. Finally, against warnings, it was decided construction should continue, and the building built was therefore cursed.
"Soon after this, a fortune teller came to the town and foretold that there would be a day people would pay for building on cursed land. The teller gave the citizens an enchanted stone that would choose the correct time for payment to take place, and then the school will be un-cursed and at rest. All that was needed was for the stone to show itself and the directions to be properly followed."
Angus cocked his head. "Maybe that's why Paisley kept falling down and breaking her bones, or why science projects never go right. Hey, maybe if we get rid of the curse, Skidmore will leave!"
Fletcher stared at the stone. "So this thing is enchanted, and we just need to follow the instructions to un-curse the school? 'Music must sing the loveliest tune, Knowledge, about the curse must know. Art must paint the circle, and Skill must make the stone glow.' Chyna, it sounds like you're music, Olive, you're Knowledge, Angus is Skill, and I'm Art."
"We could follow the directions and see what happens," suggested Olive.
"I guess there's no hurt in trying it out," pointed out Angus. "Chyna, you in?"
I was having a hard time believing it was actually real. Someone probably just wrote on a pretty rock and left it in the school basement, knowing it would scare someone that had read about the curse. "It sounds pretty phony. But, I guess I'll give it a shot. I just have to sing, and singing can't hurt anyone."
Olive took the rock, and the lead. "OK, Chyna, sing away. 'The loveliest tune.'" I went through a list of songs in my head, and picked out "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift. That had a pretty melody. Quietly, but getting louder, I began to sing.
"I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said I'll never let you go,
When all those shadows
Almost killed your light."
"Keep singing," called Olive over my voice. "2nd step: Knowledge. I guess I already know about the curse, so step 3: Fletcher, paint the circle."
"What do I do?"
"Umm... Take this paper and paint a circle on it, I guess."
"Got it," said Fletcher as he pulled out a paintbrush and paint and skillfully made a neat red circle on the paper.
Olive took another look at the poem instructions. I kept on singing.
"I remember you said
Don't leave me here alone
But all that's dead and gone and past
Tonight."
"Lastly, Angus, I think you're Skill, so somehow you have to make this stone glow, I guess? Forget it, this is stupid. Why are we even doing this?"
"Wait a second, I can do this, no problem. Let me see it."
Angus took the stone in his hands and studied it. Finally he went over to his computer and typed away on his keyboard.
"Just close your eyes,
The sun is going down
You'll be all right,
No one can hurt you now."
"Here we go," muttered Angus as he pulled out a cord from his backpack. With a small knife, he cut the plastic outer coating off of one part and used electrical tape to attach wires to the exposed inside cord. He plugged this into a wall socket. "And just put the rock on this paper, attach this wire end here and there, viola."
"Come morning light..."
The stone began to glow a little, then a little more, until it shone like a night-light. I almost stopped singing in shock, and stumbled on the lyrics, but kept going.
"You and I'll be-"
Olive looked at Angus in disbelief. "How did you do that?" The stone continued to grow in brightness. Fletcher, next to me, shielded his eyes, and Olive shut hers tight.
"Safe and-"
I didn't get to finish my singing, because right then the stone flashed a brilliant light and exploded. I closed my eyes from the painful light. When I opened my eyes, spots dancing in my vision, the rock was gone. And instead, in its place, on the table in the middle of the paper circle, stood a person.