Chapter 1

The Discovery

The morning sun gleamed through the thicket, casting feathery shadows along the front lawn. The grass was green and fresh, the sweet scent of dew lingering in the air. The sky was a perfect blue, the slivery clouds hanging low against the mountain top in the far distant. Kids pedaled by in their bikes, their laughter and the ring of their bells echoing throughout the suburb neighbourhood. It was a perfect morning.

"Looks like the economy just shrank again," I droned, flipping through the newspaper slowly. I placed the large bundle of papers face-up down and rolled on my stomach lazily. Mornings like this always made me want to go back to bed. Reed rolled his eyes at me.

"Joe, I'm serious!" he practically yelled, sitting down opposite me on the wooden porch. His silver-blonde hair glowed in the morning sunlight. Standing on the porch steps, Jasper echoed him.

"Reed's got a point," he said, nodding away, "Don't you think, as your best friends, we deserve to know?" He pulled his collar away from his body; the humidity was high today.

I flipped a page. "Looks like Mrs. Jones lost her cat again," I replied, obviously ignoring them. I wasn't about to point out the obvious to them. Jasper sighed as Stevie bounced over the porch railing and lean against the pillar.

"Joey, c'mon," Reed began again, placing a palm down on the paper to get my attention, "Are you moving or what?"

A fly buzzed by and I swatted it away. I hated summer. When most kids waited all year for summer, a time of beach holidays and sleep-ins, I dreaded it. Summer was the break before the start of a new year. It was the long, seemingly never-ending break before yet another year closer to our future.

"TELL ME WOMAN! TELL ME!" Reed yelled loudly, reaching over the paper and shaking my shoulder frantically. His blue eyes were opened in panic. I slapped him hard on the face.

"HEY!"

"I've told you before, Reed. You make too much noise and I'll slap you."

All of a sudden, from the front lawn, my grandmother's voice called out melodiously.

"Joanna! Joanna, sweetie!" I gave out a groan and rolled my eyes. My grandmother could never get my name right.

"It's Joey, Grams!" I called back, pulling to my feet. There was no answer. With my best friends trailing behind, I sighed in defeat walked towards my grandmother.

The entire lawn was scampered with my house; the living room sofa, the old collection of vases my dad used to keep and probably about everything else that used to belong inside the house was now all over the front lawn, stacked on tables. People roamed around the tables, neighbours whom I have known all my life. They picked and pointed at the stuff, kids jumping up and down on the coach.

"Yup, Grams?" I asked as I neared my grandmother who stood behind the cashier. She wore an airy shirt and had let her black hair down today.

"There you are, Joanna!" Grams smiled at me, as she cashed in the price of one of my dad's old books. Beside her, I saw Uncle Justin helping pack the sold items. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Now, honey," Grams smiled irritatingly at me, "Do your old grandmother a favour and go get the old antique lamp your father kept in the attic. Be careful, now. My great-grandmother gave it to me."

I sighed in annoyance. I didn't want to do any chores for today. It's bad enough I got to see my whole house go on sale for the neighbourhood misers. From behind, Stevie's voice broke my thoughts,

"So…are you really going? Are you really moving?"

I sighed and turned around to glare at them. They stared back innocently.

"YES, YOU MORONS!" I screamed, flapping my arms at the painted banner above our heads, the ends tied to trees. It read, "Garage Sale."

"I mean, why the hell than would all of my house be outside on the lawn?! We're moving so we have to sell the things that we don't need!" I screeched, drawing stares from the crowd. My grandmother glared at me from behind the counter.

"Ohhh…." the three of them said in unison, goggle-eyed.

I threw my hands up in the air and turned to march back to the house. My footsteps sounded like thunder as I marched up the steps of the porch and into the house, angrily. The truth was I wasn't mad. No, I was just upset. It has been a week since the funeral and already, my grandmother has planned on moving Jared and I to the old family home in Texas with her. She was already selling all of our things, the things like the TV and the sofa which we would obviously have in Texas.

Despite the rationality of it all, I couldn't help but be upset. This was my home. I had grown up here, lived here all my life. I had made friends here, the best a girl could ever ask for. I had everything I had ever wanted.

And soon, it was all going to disappear.

Man, I need a holiday.

I climbed up the polished steps quickly, fully aware of the undecorated walls beside me. The house felt lonely and cold. I reached the final step of the second floor and dragged myself all the way to the attic door. All was quiet.

The attic door was no less than a hatch in the wall. One had to pull it down to find stairs that would lead up to the attic itself. My brothers and I had a few times seen my dad go up there; the attic was strictly off-bounds to us. Even as I grew older and more rebellious, I never went up there. The attic was like a spooky, haunted room of unexplained entry, of which we never dared enter.

At least, while my dad was still alive.

I pulled the down the hatch and heard it creak with age. Folded wooden steps doubled over, dust smiting the air. I coughed briefly before ascending up the shaky steps.

The attic was a small, wooden room, with a slanted low roof. The air was thick with dust and heavy with the foul smell of mold. I pinched my nose and flipped the switch that was on the wall.

There was no light.

The morning sun rays filtered through the dirty, stained window on the wall, displaying the dust particles that danced up and around in the air. Through the window, I could spy the front lawn and the people, scurrying about to buy up my stuff.

The attic was full of junk of every sort. Piles of old furniture, books and toys laid about, arranged neatly together. Most of them were covered by white sheets, clean white sheets that looked brand new.

I spied an old antique lamp on top of a tall bundle at the end of the room, leaning against the wall. Since it was the only lamp I could see, I rushed for it. I wanted as hell to get out of there. The place was spooky. Maybe that's why Dad never allowed us up here. I tiptoed and pulled down the heavy lamp. It jiggled as it came down, the hard metal cold against my skin.

I held the dusty, heavy object closed to my chest, sighed and turned around to leave when something else caught my eye. I peered behind the tall bundle, at the wall that it leant against. The bundle of objects covered most of the wall yet I could see what looked to be a painting resting on the wall. I t was faded and seemed to fill up the whole entire wall, from the ceiling to the wooden floor. A strange musty yet fresh smell came from it.

I put down the dirty-old lamp and began to push at the tall bundle of objects. Dust stirred at the sudden movement and I began to cough violently. I pushed harder though, straining my muscles. My curiosity was killing me. Yet, the bundle hardly budged. It was way too heavy.

"Hey! You done?!" an annoyed voice startled me from behind, causing me to jump in surprise and turn around. Jared's head peeked out of the hole in the attic floor; he was standing on the attic steps. His usual handsome face was screwed up in boredom and frustration as he looked around him for a second and than back at me.

"Um…yeah…you scared me, Jared!" I scolded, only to receive an eye roll from him.

"Yeah, yeah," He replied, sighing as he spoke, "Whatever. Look, could you hurry up with that damn lamp? Mrs. Audrey from next door is dying to buy an antique lamp for a good price and Grams is definitely losing her head over keeping her interested in our lamp." He sounded a bit tired, a little short breath as he spoke.

I waved my hand at him and turned back to my task.

"Fine," I said, cracking my knuckles, "But first, come and help me push this."

From behind, I heard an exaggerated sigh and than the trumping of footsteps on the wooden floor. The wood boards creaked under his weight.

My brother came up beside me and sighed,

"Why? What are you-..?"

"Just help me, damnit!" I snapped, cutting him off. I was never his biggest fan. Sighing, Jared placed his hands on the bundle and pushed. I followed suit, only I leaned my entire weight against the objects.

Slowly but surely, the objects slide over the wooden floor, scattering dust everywhere. I pulled myself straight and dusted away all the dust on my clothes, running my finger through my dark blonde hair in case dust had caught in it. Jared coughed.

I turned now to look at the unblocked picture pinned onto the wall and gave out a gasp. In front of us was a tall, parchment painting of a ship sailing on the seas. It was an old vessel ship with dark sails and black rims. The sea it sailed on was rough and dark, waves hitting against the ship with all its might. There was no sun above the ship; the sky was covered by ominous grey clouds that hung low near the sails. Fish darted out of the fighting waves and birds flew near the ships starboard.

For a second, I swore I could hear the ship itself. In that attic, in that wooden house in the suburbs, staring at the painting, I swore I could hear the raging sea gushing about in my ears and the wail of the wind screaming in my head. The gulls called out and voices of men crying out in panic and fear clouded my mind.

"Hey, you okay?" Jared broke through the mist of my thoughts, slight worry seeping into his voice. I shook my head awake and almost immediately, the sounds stopped. I looked at him and smiled weakly.

"Ya, I'm fine. It's a cool painting, ain't it?"

My voice came out shaky and weak. I rubbed my arms to get rid of the goose bumps. That was really odd. Jared raised an eyebrow at me before gesturing at the painting,

"Well, I'm no artist," Jared half-grinned, one of the few smiles that I had gotten out of him all week, "Ya, you know, this was kind of Jack's thing…"

His lips paled at the mention of our brother and I felt my insides churn like a washing machine. His baby blue eyes fell to the ground and his licked his lips before carrying on.

"It's not bad."

"Hmph!" I snorted before folding my arms at him, "We're not telling Grams."

"What?!" Jared replied in disbelief, his face reddening, and "Why not?"

"Well…b-because she'll sell it!"

"Well, yeah! Good! We could get a lot out of this old thing."

"It's Dad's!"

"He doesn't need it anymore, Joey!"

"Maybe! But I sure as hell don't want to-…"

Our conversation was suddenly interrupted by a low hissing sound. We both turned sharply around to look at the painting on the wall. Right before our very eyes, the colour of the paint started to fizzle out like a flame. No, that would be a wrong description. The paint of the picture started to dilute into the parchment, disappearing as it went. I gasped as the dark seas dissolved into nothingness and the ship with black sails fade away into the parchment. The parchment became blank, leaving no evidence of the colours that had just been staring at our faces.

Jared and I stared at the blank parchment, jaws hanging open. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest and I was pretty sure I could hear Jared's do the same. The attic was quiet. I could the dull sound of neighbourhood chatter and children's laughter hitting dully against the walls. The sunlight had grown stronger, its hot rays making the wood smell of a burning fire, as it always did. The world outside was normal, alive and awake. In here, in the forbidden attic, it was silent.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God."

My brother took a step backwards, his hands trembling at his side. His eyes were open in shock.

"Did you just see-…"

"Uh-huh," I answered, goggled-eyed as well. The blank parchment laid before us, still smelling musty. I took step forward, hands reached out towards the canvas.

"Joe! Don't!" Jared hissed and yanked me back by my arm. I yelped in pain and smacked him hard on the head. He glared back as I hissed at him, our voices low for no particular reason,

"Don't do that! It hurts!"

"Don't go near that thing," Jared whispered angrily at me and grabbed my wrist. He began to pull away but I stood my ground.

"Awww, c'mon Jared!" I whined, slipping my hand out of his grip, "There's probably a perfectly logical reason why the paint…um…disappeared!" I grinned at him as he stared at me, incredulous. The sun was shining through the window fiercely now. By my calculations, it would be about near mid-day.

"Look," I sighed, moving slowly backwards, "There's nothing weird-…"

"The paint disappeared!"

"Yeah, yeah! Big deal! Look, all I have to do is touch it and you'll see that there is nothing wrong with the damn painting!"

"Don't," was Jared's only answer as I neared the empty canvas. I didn't care. I turned around to the blank parchment and reached out with my hands.

"Seriously, Joe. Don't," Jared's voice was dangerous low. I could hear the front door being thrown open and the voice of our uncle calling out for us. The sounds of the neighbourhood had diminished to a low lull. Winking at my twin, I reached out and touched the yellow surface of the canvas.

The canvas rippled beneath my fingers, a silvery hue dashing across the whole parchment at an amazing speed. I pulled back and gaped as the silvery wrinkle streamed all over the blank canvas. Behind me, Johnny reached out and pulled me back slightly. His hand did not let go of my arm.

The canvas stopped moving finally, returning to its normal empty face. I gulped once and turned to Jared, who was pale as a ghost. From below, I could hear Uncle Justin rummaging about in the kitchen.

I reached forward one more time, this time with no interruption from Jared. The moment my finger tips brushed against the harsh parchment, it waved again. Only this time, I did not stop. My hand fell right through the blank canvas, disappearing from my view into the wall. Jared gave out a surprised yelp as the silvery waves erupted from the canvas around my wrist. My eyes were opened in panic and goose bumps exploded all over my body.

I pulled away my hand, Jared's breath short yet deep. I saw my palm again, saw it appear from the wall. The parchment stopped moving.

"It's wet," I commented, my voice shaky. My hands were dripping with cold water, a fresh, salty smell coming from it. Jared said nothing, his mouth hanging open.

There and there, I decided. I closed my eyes and breathed softly. Then, with eyes open, I walked right up towards the blank parchment.

"Joey!" Jared cried out but it was too late. I stepped right into the blank parchment and felt the cold and darkness engulf me.