Chapter 1: Ben
He is in a room with low ceiling and stone walls. There's a big table in the middle of it, with sandwiches, tea, ham, your typical English breakfast food on.
He won't have to wait for long, nor will he have much time to set up his wards, the wards that are going to stop them from shimmering out. He has just enough time to hide set up his wards and hide comfortably in the shadows before the family arrives.
They enter through the big door; there's also a small door that's obviously not meant for them. There's Saul, who has worked for Him a long time, but now Saul is either hostile or unaware of His presence. The last option is unlikely. His wife, Eve, sat down across from Saul, and the daughter that He had only heard about sat down next to her mother.
"I still think we should do something about the new Source," said Eve, in the tone of someone who had been trying far too long to get something through another person's too thick skull. In this case, her incredibly thick-headed husband.
"Except there is no Source, there's just a darklighter with money. Could you pass me the ham?" he asked his wife, who glared at him, "please?"
"Here," she said, handing him the ham.
It was an interesting scene compared to how it would have looked like just a few years ago. Then they would have lived in a cave, gathering their food with their own hands and eating it in the same fashion.
"Anyway, since you don't believe me when I say that the Source is the real deal, I went to a Seer yesterday-" Eve started.
"Because they'd know something? Don't be stupid, he should hate Seers," Saul said, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
"-for a vision, you complete idiot. After last time, of course he wouldn't trust anyone."
"Or he would, just to confuse us."
"Didn't you say he wasn't the real him?" Eve said, sipping her tea. Tea, not alcohol.
"That doesn't mean he can't be someone who knew the real Source, and is now using that information to stay one step ahead of everyone else."
"Don't you mean us, dad?" the daughter asked, and attempted to pour milk over her cereal, but Eve thought that was a bad idea and did it for her.
"Fine, staying one step ahead of us," Saul said, preparing another ham sandwich.
"Should we do something about him then?" Eve asked.
"Okay, so there is a new Source. If he's the real one isn't something we need to discuss, since he doesn't seem to be liking us that much."
"Doesn't that mean he's not the Source?" the daughter asked, interrupting Saul.
"When the Source is killed, he becomes the one who killed him. His opinions change often," Saul said. Saul knew more than He had thought. It wasn't odd, Saul had known Him a long time, but the thought had never crossed his mind.
"Why haven't you said anything?" Eve demanded. This was a lot more drama than He had thought it would be. He'd really decided on the right day to visit.
"It doesn't matter," Saul said. Now he was the one forcing a simple truth on his wife.
"That's because you think it's not the real Source, but if it is, and we kill him instead of sending someone else, you'd be the Source."
"Or you'd be, and that would be a real nightmare."
"It would, wouldn't it?" He said, making an appearance.
They freeze.
"Yes," Saul stuttered, then attempting to shimmer out.
"Ha ha, you can't do that, I'm afraid. See, I wasn't planning on killing you when I came back, but during those two years that I have been back, you've been nothing but trouble. Mikhail's really mad at you."
"Your darklighter? You're following his orders?" both Eve and Saul ask, incredulous.
"No, he wanted you dead when he first met you. I didn't think it was necessary back then, but now, alas, it is." He paused. "Aren't you going to fight back?"
"I think I've peed myself, dad," the daughter said, her face pale. She was trying to stop her hands from shaking.
"You won't be killed, sweetheart," He said, went to her chair and touched her shoulder gently. She collapsed.
"What did you do?" Eve screamed, standing up, fireball in her right hand and a knife in the left. She was ambidextrous. He had forgotten. Well, not a problem to Him.
He concentrated, the knife turned into a pork chop and the fire ball landed in the wall just next to Him.
"She'll be fine. You however, will not."
He froze Saul, and shot a line of fire at the mother, which she ducked. He then blew her up and shot a line of fire at Saul.
His business there was partly done.
He wiped the daughter's memories, suppressed her powers, and left her at an orphanage. No one could say he didn't have a soft spot for children.
He returned to the Boy, at last. He hated doing it, but sometimes you had to do things you didn't like.
I opened my eyes slowly. I felt drowsy and tired. I blinked and tried to adjust to the darkness. I then gave up, closed my eyes, and tried to furrow into my soft mattress even more. I fell asleep again.
"Ugh, no," I mumbled, pulling the duvet over my head.
"Ben, wake up. You should've been at school an hour ago, wake up." I recognized grandma's grating voice. Wait, hour ago?
I pulled the duvet down, under my chin, and opened my eyes.
"Are you awake?" Grandma looked down at me, her too red lips pursed and her eyes, framed by painted eyebrows and brown eyeliner, glared at me. I tried to look awake, then I nodded.
"Good. As I said, you should've been at school an hour ago, I've checked your schedule, and you'll only miss one class if you hurry, so move it."
"Mhm," I said, and curled up on my nice, warm bed. I'd already missed part of the day, could just as well stay in bed.
Grandma dragged me down on the floor. I landed with a thump and found myself looking at her orthopedic shoes and a dust bunny. For a supposedly frail old woman she's very strong.
"Fine, I'm going, going," I muttered.
Grandma walked out of my tiny room, nearly hitting me on the nose with the door. I stumbled upright, cursing my bad balance.
I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and put on some clothes that I couldn't find any stains on. The pants didn't smell that nice, but did that really matter? I didn't have a special someone, so who'd smell it?
I rushed down the stairs, nearly falling over but managed to grab the railing and not get a concussion.
In the kitchen, Grandma and Grandpa was eating breakfast, arguing about the dishwasher. Again.
"What are you doing?" Grandma asked.
"Sandwich. I have time, relax." I told her, rooting through the drawers and fridge quickly. "What about the dishwasher? Is it going to get fixed?"
"Yes," Grandpa said, at the same time as Grandma said "No."
"Why not?" I asked as I hurriedly put everything back where it belonged.
"Well, we can't afford a new one if Alan tries to fix it," Grandma said. "Now, go!"
"Yes, boy, run as if the hounds of hell are at your feet!" Grandpa called after me as I hurried out, chortling.
It was a nice, beautiful day, the sun was shining, which made me wince as I slowly started walking towards school. Maybe the sleeping pills hadn't been such a good idea.
I hated the sun. I hadn't when I was younger, I used to love to play around with my family in the various parks around the city. Now though, I couldn't stand it. Not that we had many sunny days in Seattle. Sometimes I wondered if Seattle wasn't just a secret part of Great Britain.
Though Mondays were great. The teachers always had hangovers, usually we had substitutes and no one took anything seriously. That's bad if you, like John, actually take school seriously, but to everyone else it was heaven.
I ran up the stairs to my locker, and then ran down the stairs to get to the classroom. The teacher hadn't arrived yet, thank god.
I walked over to my friends, who were standing in a group apart from everyone else. My class had kind of an issue with no class-identity.
"Hey," Gina said, standing next to John and Simon.
Gina, John and Simon were my friends. Simon and I had known each other since kindergarten but the others was a different story. John kinda just latched on to us, but I don't think he likes us, and then he invited Gina because she got picked on because of her weight. Our friendship consists of school and movies.
"Hey." I leaned against the wall, and tried to get my breathing under control.
"I covered for you," Simon told me. He usually did. He wasn't a very good liar, and according to John they trusted him on auto.
"Thanks."
"Why don't you just go to bed early, Ben?" John asked. These kinds of questions made me wonder why he even was friends with us. That and him being so orderly all the time, contrasting with Simon, Gina and I being slobs.
"Well, I do, but it doesn't work. I can't sleep, then I do, then I can't, then I take a sleeping pill, and then I wake up and run to school. It's the natural order of things," I shrugged. "What can you do?"
John just looked mad at me, but he didn't say anything else.
"I watched a movie yesterday," Simon offered, breaking the silence.
"Oh? Tell me," Gina said. We talked about the movie until the teacher arrived. She was late, so by then we had managed to dissect basically the whole love story. Simon had a soft-spot for them, unfortunately for him, the rest of us didn't. He got relentlessly heckled.
NEW SCENE
"Fuck," I said, standing in line for a glass of water. We were in the school cafeteria, Simon was standing behind me.
"What?" Simon asked.
"Do you remember that imagine thing we have for English?" I said and turned around.
"Yeah," Simon said, confused.
"I didn't do it. And she's new, she doesn't get that no one here thinks Mondays are worthwhile."
"Meh. Tell her you've been sick," he suggested.
"Can you hurry up?" one of the students behind us had gotten enough.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, and Simon and I hurried to the table Gina and John already had taken.
"Anyway, I'm on the hair thin line between an E and an F. I can't just fuck up the assignment."
"What assignment?" Gina asked.
"The English one, I assume?" John asked. "Do you know how easy that was?"
"But it's Monday," I whined. Then I yawned.
"No, you're just being lazy," John said.
"Hey, could I copy yours?" I asked, ignoring John
There came a resounding "No" from all three of them.
"Seriously guys? Not a single line?"
"It's, like, the easiest thing ever. You can do it in class," Simon said.
"No," I said. "Remember the computer thing? No computers allowed in class, but we should mail stuff in."
"Do it after then, I'm sure she won't notice," Gina said.
Then, it turned out Simon wasn't right. He might've been, but he wasn't. The new teacher hadn't heard about the lax discipline in school. I had to stay after class and talk to her. But, kudos to her, at least she told me about it discreetly. I couldn't skip because then she'd probably do the proper thing and call my family and that was one thing that I couldn't face.
"I have a class soon," I told her as soon as she had closed the door after the last student.
"I'll walk you to it, I'm certain the teacher will understand. Do you know what this is about?" She sat down on one of the tables in the classroom, the lights in it making her skin look pallid and her hair dirty.
"No," I muttered, not sitting down despite her obviously wanting me to do so. Even that, the smallest act of rebellion, made me feel powerful.
"Ben, I know you haven't done your homework," she said, looking very understanding and know-it-all. "I know you're aware of the precarious position your grade is in, because we've talked about it, so why didn't you do this? It was, it is, the simplest thing ever."
"I... uh..." I said eloquently, trying to come up with an excuse. Something that sounded better than 'I forgot'.
"Yes?"
"I..."
"I've heard that you have had a few problems, is that something that played a part in this?"
"Yeah," I said, latching onto the excuse. "What with the house burning down, I haven't really gotten my stuff in order. And we only have one computer at home, and it's pretty slow. I... I tried to do it during the weekend, but I couldn't. It was broken."
"Why... Why do you even do these kinds of things when you're about to fail?" she said, losing the understanding look.
"It's not my fault, it's just tough and I've been having trouble sleeping which makes it all worse," I told her.
I looked down at my feet and did my best to look remorseful... and tired.
"It's fine, Benjamin. You can do this 'til next time, but I want yours to be two pages, oka-"
"What?"
"It's a poem, two pages is not that long."
"Okay, okay. Thanks," I smiled, deciding not to push my chances."I owe you."
"Mom, I need your help," I said at dinner. We were all crowding around the kitchen table, Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, Mom and the twins. Jennifer was also there, gurgling in her baby chair.
"With what?" mom asked.
"English assignment, a two-page poem that starts with 'I imagine' and rolls from there," I said.
"Well, if you need my help it's obviously not rolling," mom said with a smile. Grandpa chortled.
"No, it is not," I said.
Then Jennifer started crying. Mom, frazzled, left the table with her. Dad followed. There went the help.
"Maybe we could help," Grandma said.
"You and Grandpa?"
"We could," Grandpa said.
"Can we leave?" Joanie asked.
"Put your plates in the sink," Grandma said. "Ben, let's just clear away everything first and then we'll do the poem, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll get the computer," I said and tried to sound happy, even though I wasn't. Maybe I was just being very selfish, but I wanted Mom to help me. I mean, I was her kid too, shouldn't she pay attention to me sometimes? I didn't want to talk to her about it though, because then she'd just say that I had already gotten her attention when I was younger, and now it was my siblings turn.
"What do you imagine, then?" Grandpa asked as the computer was starting up. It was over ten years old and stuffed with files, it was gonna take a while.
"I don't know, that's the problem," I told Grandpa. It was a lie, because of course I knew. I imagined, at night when I thought it was okay to think about it, that I hadn't burned down our house. I imagined that the insurance company would just give us the money, even though they were right about the fire not being exactly an accident. I hadn't meant for it to happen, but that didn't mean that it wasn't my fault. I had started it, and when Joanie turned on the gas stove and I didn't stop her it wasn't really an accident anymore.
It was my fault.
