Timmy's sky blue eyes glared at the target. It's white and red stripes stood there mockingly, as if he couldn't make it. He laughed inwardly.
Of course he could make it.
So why didn't he?
It had been a nice set up. His arrow placed at the right spot on the string, his arm extended fully. His gloves weren't slippery, and his stance was great. But his mind wandered at the last moment, making his arm change position slightly and the arrow was sent flying, completely missing the target. He huffed in frustration. He just wasn't into it.
AntiCosmo sat in the corner with AntiWanda, observing.
"That was quite sloppy," he stated.
Timmy eye twitched angrily. He knew it was sloppy, the commentary was unnecessary.
"Perhaps you aren't as good as I thought," the green-eyed antifairy said, frowning deeply, making one of his fangs poke out.
Eager to prove AntiCosmo wrong, Timmy quickly knocked another arrow. In a blink of an eye, the boy lifted the bow, drew the arror, aimed and let it fly, driving the arrow right next to the center. He lowered the bow, thinking that would please the antifairy. But he was just met by another frown.
"No, no, no," AntiCosmo stood up and flew over to the bucktoothed boy. "Your form is off. Get in your stance."
Timmy knocked another arrow and pulled it up. He pulled the string back to the corner of his mouth and glanced at the tall antifairy next to him. AntiCosmo circled around the boy, adjusting things. Pushing on the boys drawing arm, he lifted his elbow up slightly. He tapped the back of Timothy's knee's signaling him to bend them more, which he did. Using his foot, AntiCosmo pushed the inside of Timmy's feet, straightening them. Taking one last look, he nodded.
"Now shoot."
In one fluid motion, Timmy extended his arm further and released the arrow. It pierced through the air and stuck right in the middle of the target, right next to the other one. Bulls-eye.
"Yeehaw!" AntiWanda chirped, jumping up. She sped over. "That was amazin'!"
Timothy smiled at AntiCosmo, who nodded his approval. "That was very nice. Now, try this."
With a flick of his wand, a quiver full of black wands appeared next to Timmy in black smoke. Picking one up, he gaped at the antifairy. "You want me to shoot wands?"
"Not just wands, they're arrows, too," the tall antifairy mused. "Think of it as an early birthday gift. Once they come in contact with an object, they turn into whatever object you wish. Try one."
Timmy eyed the arrows supiciously. The tip of the arrow was a star. It wasn't as big as the ones on the fairy wands, but it was bigger than an average arrowhead. The feathers at the tip were black, just like the rest of the arrow. Holding it vertically, he closed on eye and looked down the shaft towards the target.
"I guess I can try it," Timmy muttered. Knocking the arrow, he got in his correct stance. He adjusted his fingers a bit, because the weight was a bit heavier than a regular arrow. Once the weight was comfortable, Timmy shot the arrow. It made contact with the target and previous bulls-eye, turning them into a couple black cats.
"Wow," Timmy said, smiling. "It works."
"Course it works!" AntiWanda purred, floating over to AntiCosmo and hugging him. "My AntiCossie is the one who made 'em!"
"Oh, dear, you're too much," AntiCosmo said, toying with AntiWanda's hair, obviously proud of his work.
"Ooookay," Timmy said awkwardly, placing his quiver full of wand arrows and bow on his back. "I'm just gonna leave you two to that."
Before either of them could say anything, the blue-eyed boy ran off.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Timmy thought about what Friday was going to be like. Every antifairy was celebrating his birthday. Timmy actually smiled at this thought. How weird. Usually, noone gave a shit about his birthday. Before he was forced into this world, noone on earth even remembered. Sure, Chester and AJ remembered, along with Cosmo and Wanda, but that was it. His own parents didn't even remember his birthday.
Timmy actually growled at the thought of them. The never even remembered his name. What was that 'Tommy' bullshit? He was their only son! And the fact that they didn't even want him. They wanted some stupid girl.
Oh yeah. He'd get them good on Friday.
And Vicky.
Oh, that bitch. How she always made him clean. But then she'd go and mess everything up right before his parents got home and blame it on him. They'd never believe him. No matter how much he cried and begged them to stay home, they'd always leave him with that skank. Timmy's blue eyes squinted at the thought. Yeah, he may have been the one who called her, but she had ruined his life when she was there.
Payback was gonna be a bitch for her.
And Remy Bucksaplenty. God damn him and his stupid fairy. He tried to make Timmy miserable and tried countless times to make Timmy lose his fairies. At one point, Timmy even trusted him, but he betrayed him.
And then there was Mr. Crocker. Ooooh, it was gonna be bad for him, he was probably going to flood his house with blood or something. He smirked. Oh, or he could burn his house in the shap of an "F".
Maybe his thriteenth birthday wouldn't be so bad.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Remy glared out the window. This wasn't fair.
Three years without Turner had been fantastic. He lived a rich life, bonding with his parents occasionally and having Juandissimo give him anything money couldn't buy, which wasn't a lot.
But the fact that Turner had become the first anti god child miffed him. Yes, all the godchildren on earth were aware of the tragedy. At first, Remy had laughed. Laughed at the fact that Turner didn't have his fairies. Laughed at the fact that Turner would be miserable. Laughed at the fact that he wouldn't have to see that cocky, buck-toothed, beaver grin any longer. But, then it hit him.
Turner was the first. Turner.
Remy frowned. Why did he get to be the first of anything?
Why should he be living in AntiFairy World while Remy was stuck at this crummy middle school. His parents had made him go to a middle-class school. They thought that he could easily make friends that way. But he didn't. He was just too good for all of them.
The blonde was so much better. He was charming, had good looks, had money and was quite intelligent.
He was everything Turner wasn't.
So why not him?
Don't get him wrong, Remy loved having Juandissimo around. The two were the perfect pair. His fairy was better than Turner's previous ones could ever dream of being.
Remy tapped his pencil on his desk. Juandissimo mentioned something about the antifairies earlier. The rich boy had asked what he was blabbering about, before Juan simply blew it off. He quickly said something about needing to go to Fairy World for something before disappearing, leaving Remy in the halls alone.
Remy narrowed his eyes. What had he said? Something about Friday? Well, that wasn't right. He knew for a fact that Friday wasn't the thirteenth. The antifairies weren't allowed to prance around, yet. So why was Juandissimo so nervous about?
Remy cursed inwardly. It must have had something do do with Turner.
The date of Friday pried at his head. Why did it seem so firmiliar? Was something he planned with his parents that day? No, that's not it. What was it?
A slight cough interrupted his thoughts and he glared at the direction it came from. It was that poor kid, Chester. Ugh, how Remy despised the poor. It was amazing he even went to this school. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the window.
Wait, wasn't he Turner's friend?
Remy turned back to the other blonde. Maybe Chester could help him. He wasn't sure how, but maybe he might.
As soon as the bell rang, Remy calmly got up and walked over to Chester. It took all of his will power to not make a face at the boys outfit. It just screamed that he lived in a trailer park.
"Say, Chester, I need to ask you something," Remy said, catching the boys attention. Chester slowly looked up, surprised.
Chester blinked his green eyes, nervously. "Oh, hi there, Remy." He gulped. "What do you, uh, need?"
Remy couldn't help but frown at the boys still messed up teeth with braces. People with bad teeth attract people with bad teeth, he supposed.
"Does this Friday's date have any significance to you?"
"I dunno, what's the date?" Turning to the calender at the front of the classroom, Chester's face fell. "Oh... Oh. This Friday is Timmy's birthday." He looked down at his notebook. "Boy, I sure miss him."
Remy's eyes widened. "Wait, Turner's birthday?" That's it? That's what all this worrying was about? It didn't make sense!
"Yeah, why do you-?"
Remy stalked off before Chester even finished his sentence. It was Timmy's birthday and Remy's fairy was worried about it. Remy growled. That was unacceptable. Who cares about Turner? He was just some dumb, middle-class boy! How old was he going to turn, anyway? Remy was already thirteen and-
Remy stopped in the middle of the hallway. Wait. Turner had been ten when he was given over to the antifairies. That was three years ago. So that would mean Turner was turning thirteen.
The antifairies loved that number, right? So, what would they do if the first and only anti godchild was turning that certain number?
Remy's blood ran cold. Something definitely felt wrong here.
What would they do?
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Bam. Another chapter.
Haha, thanks to those guys who did review. It means a lot and keeps me motivated. c:
