A/N at the bottom!

After the sweater incident, it took me a couple of days to be… me again. I was scared to change my clothes (which made changing for Gym very difficult), afraid of my closet, petrified every time I saw the colour black, and steered clear of sweaters as much as I possibly could. Thankfully, Mother Nature had pity on me, as it was early October and I could still go out in a t-shirt.

The image I had seen in the mirror haunted me. Seriously; I had nightmares about it.

My dad had called Catherine to tell her I wasn't coming over that day (thankfully she'd been in an understanding mood, so she did my part. I owed her immensely). I spent two days at home. And I spent the whole time in bed, staring at my ceiling, trying to figure out the image I had seen. To say I hadn't been expecting it would have been an understatement.

Of course, when I looked into the mirror, I was frozen into the position where I had been trying to take the sweater off. And of course, I had been crying. And of course, I was on the floor, my dad holding me. Sound familiar? I know what you're thinking. The image was similar to the first scene I saw when I put the sweater on… right?

Wrong.

It wasn't similar.

It was the same.

The sweater incident happened on a Saturday.

My cousin Paige came over to my house the Friday after.

That helped me… and it also scared me more.

It all started at five-thirty, on the dot. The doorbell rang. I ran to answer it and was greeted by an enormous hug. Like choke-hold enormous. Scratch that; make that death-grip enormous.

"Paige!" I said sounded excited and breathless… probably because I was both. "Can't… breathe!" I then proceeded to make a sound that sounded like I was choking, which I wasn't faking.

She sighed dramatically before letting me go, pushing her open brown hair out of her eyes.

"Whatever," she said, "You just don't know a good hug when you get it."

I ignored her. I was too busy trying to get air in my lungs. I held up my index figure to indicate for her to pause, caught my breath, and said, "Okay, speak, strangler."

She frowned, then made a face that meant she was thinking, then shrugged and let it go (I think). "My dad is working late, while my mom is at a friend's house. So I thought, 'You know, I haven't talked to Sally in a while. Maybe I should go visit my darling cousin.' And here I am." Turning her attention away from me and inviting herself in (though it didn't matter because she already knows she's welcome anytime here), she called to house "Hi Uncle Gabriel!"

My dad popped his head out of his study and smiled. "Hey Paige, how are you?" he said with a wave.

"I've been pretty good. Dad's at work and mom's over at a friend's house today. I figured I should come over. What about you?" My cousin said casually. My dad answered he was fine and that he had some paperwork to do, so he would leave us alone before going back into his office.

"Okay, then. My room?" I asked. Paige and I always had an understanding. Whenever she came over, we would first go to my room, then do whatever. It was like this weird ritual thing we had. But it was cool all the same.

We walked up the stairs, into my room, and immediately decided to watch something. After much deliberation (as in, we looked at each other and instantly yelled it out), we decided on one of the best shows ever.

Which one? Big Time Rush, obviously.

Smiling, we raced downstairs to the kitchen to make popcorn. I asked my dad if he wanted to watch it with us and he politely declined by gesturing to the stack of work in front of him. It was more likely that he didn't want to listen to Paige and me squealing about Kendall and Logan, respectively. Partway through the episode we were watching on my computer (we were in the middle of watching "Big Time Guru"… it had Logan's swagger app!), I asked Paige how school was.

She went over to my desk and paused the show. She then immediately launched into a detailed description of how the work load is absolutely crazy, especially for someone who was thirteen. She also complained about how her English teacher was a complete freak and all he did was yell at everybody. Well, that and a bunch of other stuff.

By the time she came to the end of her account, we were sitting on my bed (well, I was lying down; Paige was on her knees). "Hey," Paige said suddenly. "I'm cold, can I burrow a sweater?"

I tensed just the slightest at the word "sweater," but forced myself to relax. I instead sat up and pointed to my closet, telling her that she knew what to do. Thanking me (which was a rare occurrence, seeing as it was Paige and I), she walked over. While rummaging, she said, "So, what have I missed in your life this past little while?"

I bit my lip, considering whether or not to tell her. I mean, how weird is it to find out your cousin practically had a seizure over wearing a sweater? Before I could come up with an answer, though, Paige held up something, obviously out of my closet.

"How come you never wear this? It's nice," she asked. I looked at her like she was crazy. What was she talking about? I looked at her hand and saw that she was about to put on the sweater. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered why she had reached so far into my closet. After all, I'd gotten my dad shove the sweater to the very back of the thing, and he had made sure that I wouldn't be able to see it at all whenever I opened the closet.

"Uh, Pai, you might not want to put that on," She looked at me strangely, "No, seriously, don't," I told her.

"And why not?" she asked, looking at me suspiciously.

"Because I'm two years older than you and I said so."

"That is a horrible excuse, you know," she retorted. I began to feel panicked. How could I get her to not put it on?

"That sweater is evil!"

I silently thanked whoever had said what I couldn't.

'Wait,' I thought, 'Paige and I are the only ones in the room… And Paige is looking at me.'

Well, mystery solved as to who said that little statement.

"Evil? Really, Sal?" Paige said, laughing. And that's when she did the most horrible thing yet.

She put the sweater on.

And of course, I did one thing. The one and only thing I could do through my shock and horror.

I squeaked like an eight-year-girl.

Paige, on the other hand, laughed at me. She then walked over to my dresser and looked into the mirror, while I was panicking.

"Look, it's hard to explain, Paige, but I need you to take off that sweater…" I tried, slightly freaking out like crazy. Though I was slightly confused as to why Paige hadn't started freaking out like I had.

Meanwhile, my lovely cousin, who was refusing to listen to me, stood in front of the mirror. She was trying to tie her long brown hair in a ponytail. Her violet eyes were alight with laughter. I watched as her as she piled up her hair in her hands and pulled a hair-tie on them.

I stared in awe. In an instant, the flashing scenes came back to me, all at once. This time, it didn't hurt; I was only remembering, and I was doing so by my own standards. There was no pain, no fear – just me watching those moments again. There was me; there was the dark-eyed girl; there was the brown-haired girl; there was me again. Finally, I focused on the image I'd seen of Paige, and I instantly knew what was going through her mind.

"Wow, Sally. Just… wow," I murmured quietly, still slack-jawed.

The same image was there. The same moment, just reenacting itself. It was like watching something, pausing it, rewinding it, and then watching again it later. And I only had one thought for it.

What. The. Bloody. Hell?

There was also 'che diavolo?' running in my mind as well.

"Sally?" I looked up to see Paige looking at me worriedly, "What's wrong? Now you're starting to freak me out."

I gave her a melancholy smile, one people always told me I inherited from my father. It was actually quite a depressing thing to tell someone. "Like I said," I told her, "that sweater is evil."

She looked at me one second, trying to figure out what was up with me. The next, she had quickly grabbed the sweater and tossed it off faster than a cheetah could run, staring at it as if it were going to eat her.

"Paige…" I asked slowly, immediately fearing the worse, "What did you see?"

She looked at me strangely. "What do you mean?" Paige asked back.

"The sweater," I said, now confused, "What did you see that made you take it off so quickly?" I had also wondered why she hadn't screamed. Wasn't she in pain?

"Nothing…" she said slowly, looking at me strangely, "I just took it off so fast because you were freaking out because of it."

"Oh," I said awkwardly. So, I guessed I was the only one who freaked out by putting the sweater on. Just peachy, wasn't it?

"Sally, what is going on?" Paige asked. She was extremely worried now – I could tell by the look on her face. She was also growing increasingly anxious.

I sighed and motioned her to sit down beside me. She did, and I launched into the account of what had happened the last time I put the sweater on.

Paige's face went from worry to confusion, and then from confusion to sympathy when I told her what my father thought it was.

"That's probably why I didn't see anything," Paige said, "It's your endowment." She gulped, and continued, "Wow… your endowment. That's… that's pretty huge. Just… wow."

She didn't sound too thrilled. In fact, she sounded devastated.

"Paige…?" I asked, slightly worried now. I would later laugh at how quickly the roles had reversed in this situation, but for right now, I could only worry about how sad Paige sounded.

Suddenly, she looked up at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Sal," she spoke as if she'd caused this. She looked at her hands in her lap and fiddled with them, "I can't tell you it'll get any better. Getting your endowment for the first time… experiencing it… It changes a person. I mean, some people are lucky, I guess… their endowment doesn't affect them physically or they just learn to suck it up and deal with it. But for the rest of us… it kind of just… it's some scary stuff, especially the first time. And it messes people up, trust me. I know first hand."

That last sentence scared me. It suddenly occurred to me that for the last thirteen years, Paige and I had been almost like sisters, and yet I couldn't tell anyone what her endowment was. Not because I was sworn to secrecy, but because I didn't know.

I thought back to about three years ago, when Paige had been ten and I'd been twelve. We went to the same school, and there'd been a day she missed classes. I'd gone over to visit her and pass on her homework, only to see my Uncle Billy looking distraught. He took the work and told me that Paige wasn't feeling well and she would speak to me when she was feeling better.

A couple of days later, she'd come to my house, told me thank you for the work, and sat me down. She also told me we wouldn't be in the same school the next year. When I asked her why, she told me she was transferring and then explained to me what an endowment was and how she'd gotten hers. I'd asked my dad that night and he'd given me further explanation, as Uncle Billy and Aunt Mai had only described it to Paige without going into the deeper details. When school started in the fall, Paige wasn't at our school, and had gone off to Bloor's Academy.

It had been the only time I'd seen my fun-loving cousin so serious and upset. Up until now, that is.

Paige had noticed my silence and her eyes widened a bit.

"Not me, personally," she quickly said, "I mean, I've seen kids at my school – endowed ones."

I didn't believe her, but I let it slide for now. I knew Paige well enough to know she would tell me the truth in time.

"So," I started, "What exactly is your endowment, Pai?"

Paige looked slightly shocked by my question. We'd never talked about it, so it was probably odd that I was asking now, after three years. Then she looked awkward, as if wondering how to tell me. She opened her mouth to speak when my door swung opened.

"Hey, you two," my dad said, popping his head in, "Paige's parents just called. They were wondering if she was going to come home or stay the night. I told them I'd ask and call them back." He then looked between us and, obviously noticing our serious faces, awkwardly asked, "Was I interrupting something?"

Paige and I looked at each other before shaking our heads 'no.'

"So, Paige… are you staying tonight?" I asked, turning to the girl in question.

Paige shook her head. "I should probably go in a couple of minutes. Dad wants me to go to work with him tomorrow morning. It's supposed to be kind of a father-daughter bonding thing." I noticed Paige's expression sour just a smidge before brightening again. "What time is it anyway, Uncle Gabe?"

My dad answered it was just past eight-thirty, and then said he'd call Paige's parents to tell them she'd be coming home. Before he could fully walk out, though, Paige called him back. "Hey, Uncle Gabriel… could you tell them I just wanted to finish something up with Sally, first?"

"Okay," he called back, not even bothering to ask what. By now, my dad (and Paige's parents, for that matter) had learned to let Paige and I just do our own thing. As long as we didn't end up pregnant, arrested and/or dead, they were fine.

Paige turned to me once he had gone, smiled, and said, "Well. We have to finish watching the episode before I leave, don't we?"

I smiled back, and told her, "Of course. After all, we need to finish enduring the awesomeness that is Logan's swagger app."

That night, I dreamt.

I was on an empty highway. Not driving or anything (partially because I wasn't legal to drive for another seven months), just standing on the side. On my right, a little further up the road, was a ditch. To my left, there was a car speeding closer to me, as if the driver was excited to get somewhere…

Or as if they were trying to get away from somewhere else.

The car sped by me, not even acknowledging I was there. My clothes blew with the wind that the car had given off from its speed, but I barely noticed. I kept my eyes glued to the car.

I stared, wondering why this was so important for me to watch. Suddenly, the car stopped. From where I was, it looked like it had run out of gas, about three or four metres away from the ditch. The driver was opening the door and getting out. I then closed my eyes, the movement being very deliberate. After a second or two, I opened them to see the car now in the ditch. The driver was gone, and the ditch was on fire.

And all around me, I heard a woman's voice. It kept repeating the same thing.

"Don't worry about me, princess."

Tuesday, I came home from school at three, not expecting anything different than usual. Dad would be home early, and we'd talked about making tacos for dinner. I decided I would then do my homework, steal dad's latest manuscript, and probably watch some corny movie with him before going to sleep. I'd probably call Macy, Catherine, Chris, Brady or Hunter somewhere in between there, too.

Instead, I walked in and the first thing I heard was my father's distressed voice yelling.

"I don't care what you say! I won't allow it!" He cried out angrily.

I hadn't made any indication I was home, so my father and the person he was yelling at (at least, I assumed there was someone) probably didn't realize I was there. Quietly, I snuck over to the entrance of the living room where I'd heard my father's voice.

I quietly got down on my knees and snuck a quick peek at them from the floor. There stood a man. He was taller than my father, and likely a couple of years older as well. He had inky black hair, with some gray strands here and there, that was tied into a ponytail. His clothing was all black as well, and he looked… giddy at my father's distress. Almost as if he was finally getting something he'd wanted for a long time.

"Gabriel," the man said, "It's my duty to do this. And I'm only enforcing the rules. You, of all people, should know that." He smirked at his words and I wanted to slap him.

This man was making my father angry. I didn't like him already.

Dad glared at him, before saying, "It's the parent and the student's choice, isn't it? We get to decide if she goes or not. And I'm not letting her. I don't care what you do or say, I'm not letting her."

"She's endowed, Silk. She has to come. It's not your choice," the man said. He paused, and added, "All your other little friends gave in. You will, too."

There was a flash of something in my father's eyes. It was a bundle of negative emotions that mixed together and let themselves sit there for just a moment. There was anger, hurt, shock, betrayal and sorrow, as well as others.

Whoever this man was talking about, they had upset my father greatly by giving into whatever this man wanted.

Then my father got angry again.

"Manfred Bloor, you get out of my house right now and never come back, dammit!" He shouted.

Manfred Bloor. Bloor. Bloor's Academy…

Bloody hell, I was not ready for this.

The man (who I now assumed was Mr. Bloor) smirked and began to walk out of the room. I realized too late that meant he would see me. As I watched him get closer (still not having noticed me), I suddenly jumped up.

And I, being the clumsy idiot I was, hit my head on the wall as I did so.

Mr. Bloor and dad both looked my way and saw me standing there, holding my head and wincing slightly in pain. I noticed then that Mr. Bloor's eyes were black like coal.

Even worse, they were like black holes.

I would never deny in that moment, I was scared out of my wits of this man.

"Well then," Mr. Bloor said, "I guess I won't be leaving anytime soon."

A/N: Proper author's note tomorrow. Happy Canada Day and goodnight.

Edit (July 2/11): So I took one word out, but I added another one in, which means Word Count's still the same. Anyone want to guess who's daughter Paige is? It's actually pretty obvious -_- Anyway, "che diavolo?" according to the translator I used, means "What the hell?" in Italian. Sorry if that's wrong. If there's anyone who actually doesspeak Italian and is willing to let me contact them like crazy asking what certain things mean, please let me know :) Sorry this was so short. I actually forgot about PULL, then remembered at 6:30 in the evening. And, since it was Canada Day, we were going to go watch fireworks and stuff. I had to drag my dad's laptop with me and write it in the car. -_- And up until where Sally says "Well, mystery solved as to who said that little statement" was actually part of the first chapter, but I took it out, because of lack of time to finish. I'm a procrastinator extraodinare. -_- Oh, and cliffhangers for the win! LOL, not really if you're the one reading it. Anyway, so I put it here. There was also a bunch of other stuff I wanted to put in the first chapter that I still haven't touched on yet, so the next chapter's going to be all over the place. Hopefully it'll make up for this chapter's lenght. And you finally get to meet Sally's friends :) And maybe (I'm hoping) a strange occurrence that finally makes this story worthwhile reading. ;) Anyway, I think I'm good on the A/N, so gooooooodbye! :)

Word Count: 3,304

Time Posted: 11:59 PM

- May :)