Yes, there is a plan. Your soul knows what it is. - Unknown
The fact that school sucks is basically a universal understanding. It's too long, too boring, and too full of emotional adolescents looking for someone to make fun of. At least, that's what Aeron was thinking as he walked under the rows of beech trees on his way to school that morning.
He'd argued that he had the right to avoid school for awhile - that he would be more useful helping Beni around the house or teaching his cousins than sitting in a classroom for eight hours listening to the teachers recite lists of useless facts and rules. Ditching wasn't all that interesting either, which was what he did when he got the chance. But the looks on his grandparents' faces had said that they couldn't take much more, and he'd practically been pushed out the door that morning. Hey - it wasn't his fault that his uncle kept picking fights with him! It wasn't his fault that every time they talked to each other, they ended up shouting! He was trying his best to live up to his creed, but his uncle was a jerk. Aeron shuffled along, muttering to himself and kicking leaves this way and that, delaying the inevitable. Maybe he couldn't skip school altogether, but he could sure take his sweet time getting there.
As he passed the park, a loud commotion erupted to his right. Aeron looked up to see a German Shepherd rushing a young man dressed in athletic clothes. The dog's hackles were up and he was growling, ears laid flat back on his head. He jumped onto the man and knocked him to the ground, making him cry out in pain. The bloodthirsty animal stood its prey, panting and growling, saliva dripping from his jaws onto the man's terrified face.
Aeron dropped his bag and ran. "Hey! Hey!" he screamed, waving his arms. With his heart pounding and his mind racing, he tackled the dog with one flying leap and knocked him away from the man. He held on as tight as he could to the dog's throat as the owner ran towards them. Strangely enough, the ferocious German Shepherd wasn't acting so ferocious anymore. He whined and tried to squirm out of Aeron's fierce grip, but he didn't growl or snap at him.
The dog's owner sprinted up, her flame-colored hair flying every which way. She immediately snapped a leash onto the dog's collar; Aeron didn't let go.
"I am so, so sorry," she apologized, breathless. "He's never done anything like this before… I swear he won't hurt you," she added when Aeron still refused to relinquish his grip. The half-grown dog whined and flopped around in Aeron's grip, disliking the tight hold.
"Just like he didn't hurt this man here?" Aeron challenged. Just then the jogger groaned and rose slowly to a sitting position, checking himself for injuries.
The young woman helped him to his feet, spouting apologies. "I am so sorry - I'll pay whatever you want, just don't take him away - I am so, so sorry…" and so on and so forth. Finally, the man waved his hands in front of her face to get her to stop.
"Listen - calm down. I won't press charges. Just keep your canine on a leash from now on." He glared at a bloody scrape on his shin, then at the dog, who was growling again.
The woman thanked him, practically in tears, and took the dog from Aeron, who reluctantly relinquished it, prompted by a nod from the man. "Come on, Phoenix. Come on, buddy," she coaxed the Shepherd. Phoenix looked at the man, gave one last warning bark, and finally trotted away with the woman.
The man watched them go with an unreadable expression on his face before he offered a hand to Aeron, who took it gladly.
"Thanks for your help just now - I don't know if I would've made it out of there alive." The man smiled his thanks at Aeron, but at that moment Aeron was unable to respond because he'd just noticed... his eyes. Cold as a deep pool of clear water - almost disturbing in their clarity and color.
Blue.
Some old, eerie fog of memory drifted across Aeron's consciousness, sending waves of sudden alarm to his mind. He mumbled something incoherent and took off toward the sidewalk where he'd left his bag. He threw it over his shoulder and strode quickly down the street, feeling the man's gaze like a million tiny needles poking into his back. Once he was out of his line of sight, he took off running, not sure what he was running from but knowing that something was wrong. He traveled a few blocks before slumping into a bench next to a main intersection. Nothing could happen to him here, with so many people around. He rested his head in his hands, breathing hard. What just happened?
Next to Aeron, an old man cleared his throat. "Son, you're sitting on my newspaper-" he began in an odd accent, and Aeron snapped his head up. It was the same man he'd seen in front of the museum so many weeks ago - the one who'd asked him where his parents were. He gaped at him. This was too weird of a coincidence to overlook.
The man's brown eyes met his urgently. "Son, you're sitting on my newspaper," he said again, pointing to the yellow paper poking out from under Aeron's leg.
It took Aeron a minute to comprehend his words. "What… oh. Sorry." He started to stand, but a heavy hand on his arm stopped him. The man pointed urgently to a corner of the paper. "I just get these for the crossword puzzles. This week's was especially good." The man's cheerfulness seemed forced.
The next minute the man yanked the paper away, tucked it into his leather satchel and walked briskly across the crosswalk. He disappeared behind the traffic, and when the light turned green and the cars cleared, he was gone.
Aeron slumped back into the bench and closed his eyes. He couldn't even stand right now, let alone go to school. The words on the newspaper swam behind his eyelids, written in bold black Sharpie -
AMYS DEATH NO ACCIDENT MEET PARK TOMORROW EIGHT A.M. COME ALONE