"Don't go too far Wybourne."
"Okay gramma."
Wybie walked off the porch of his faded, light blue house, towards the small shed (or shack, as his grandma called it) to retrieve his motorbike that he'd made himself, motor and all.
After wheeling the red tiger-striped object out of the shed, Wybie grabbed his skeleton mask, which he had also made himself. He mounted his bike, and with a nod of his head, sent the mask down to cover his face.
He decided to ride out to the old well, despite the fact that the metal remains of an evil witch's hand and a key to another world were thrown into its depths not even a month ago.
While Wybie sped along, his thoughts drifted back to his dream. They always did. Especially the voice.
He just couldn't put his finger on it. Before the incident with the hand, he'd never dreamed of the voice. He could've sworn that he had never heard it in real life either.
It's just a dream though…Nothing special about a voice. Right? He thought.
There was nothing special about a voice. But there was something special about this voice.
He didn't know why, but he just had a feeling that there was something out-of-the-ordinary about it. Something dangerous about it.
Whenever the voice appeared in his dream, it never was like a nightmare. No, it was more like a regular dream. A good dream. A great dream in fact.
There was never a person to claim the voice in his dream. It was just a voice in the air, coming from nowhere, but somewhere at the same time.
It was odd. But weren't most dreams odd?
When Wybie arrived at the well, he hopped off his bike and let it fall into the mud by the tree stump that sat by it. He then crouched down by the wooden planks that covered the giant hole, picking up a small stone in his gloved hand.
He dropped it through one of the holes in the planks and put his ear to them to hear its collision with the water below.
Wybie had silently counted in his head until the rock hit the water. Wait-not the water. His eyes widened slightly as he heard an unfamiliar sound-the sound of something clinking against metal-but then he heard the splash.
He stood up and cocked his head slightly, staring at the well. Was the clinking sound just in his imagination? Yes that had to be it. There was nothing metal down in the well besides the hand, and it was in pieces.
It HAD to be in pieces. He had smashed it with the rock, even helped throw it down the well himself. It wasn't coming back up...Was it?
Wybie just stared blankly at the well, lost in thought, before jumping as a feminine voice sounded behind him. It wasn't anything like the voice though.
"Staring at some wood and a hole. That's completely sane Wybournee."
Wybie snapped back to attention and turned around to face the girl with blue hair in a yellow raincoat. The girl that he had been friends with-or tried to be friends with-ever since she moved into the Pink Palace.
Wybie smiled a little and waved a skeleton-glove-covered hand at her. "As far as I know, no one's completely sane around here anymore."
Coraline rolled her eyes, threw her magenta shoulder bag into the mud by the stump's base, and raised an eyebrow at Wybie.
"Did you check already?"
"Yup."
"How many seconds before it landed in the water?"
"Seven. But…I-I think I heard…Something before it hit the water." Wybie fidgeted nervously with his hands.
"Seven seconds?! How deep is that thing?!" Coraline kneeled down by the fairy ring and ran her hand along the boards of wood. Then she heard the second part of the boy's sentence.
"Something? What kind of 'something'?" She asked, giving Wybie a wierd look.
"Don't think I'm crazy or anything but…I-it sounded like it hit metal before the water. I-I'm not sure really. Maybe it was just my imagination…" He trailed off. Coraline knew what object Wybie was referring to when he said "it."
He meant the stone. They had been taking turns throwing them down the well everyday and counting how many seconds it took for it to land in the water.
The length of seconds were growing.
"It probably was your wierded-out imagination Why-Were-You-Born," Coraline replied, standing up and brushing some mud off of her raincoat.
"Probably…" Wybie mumbled. But he didn't really think it was his imagination. He'd heard it, clear as his grandmother's triangle when she wanted him home. It was a soft 'clink' and then a 'splash'. He was positive.
There was a silence between the two children as they stood, lost in thought. Wybie was the first to break it. "So…How's the garden looking?" He asked, referring to the garden that everyone had helped plant behind the Pink Palace.
"It's actually looking pretty good, considering it's in a place that rains every five seconds." As if to prove her point, a raindrop plopped onto her pointed nose. She frowned and wiped it away while Wybie chuckled softly.
"That's Oregon for ya Jonesy." He smiled at the girl and leaned against the old tree stump. "Man, I haven't seen the sun in days." He glanced up at the gray sky.
"More like weeks," Coraline muttered. "Times like these make me wish I was in Florida right now."
"Unless Florida was having a hurricane."
"…Right. But at least they get to see the sun more than once a week."
"You're exaggerating, Jonesy." Wybie rolled his eyes.
A familiar call of "Wybourne!" could be heard even from the well, followed by the ring of a triangle, interrupting the two's conversation.
Coraline smirked. "And you're being paged."
Wybie turned his head in the direction of the call and sighed. Walking over to his bike he hopped onto it and put his mask on top of his head.
"Catch ya later Jonesy." He smiled, giving her a two-fingered solute before pedaling off down the steep hill towards home.
Coraline smiled and shook her head slightly.
You're so weird Wybourne.
All while Wybie was riding home, he couldn't help but think about the clink at the bottom of the well before the stone hit the water.
It was his imagination. It had to be.
Right?
A/N: Woo,chapter twoo. =]
Aren't you so happy? I know you are. Thanks for the reviews so far btw! ^_^
I think I know where I'm going with this story. Key words: I think.
Please R&R. :3