Chapter 9
She sits on the roof of the apartment building. She watches the night sky. Tonight is the night. She can feel something different in the air.
She rolls a small, silver ball up and down the palm of her hand. She has been sitting up on the roof for hours. Her parents think she's depressed. Her little brother could care less. Whatever.
She isn't depressed. She is quite content with her life now that she has a purpose. She just has to wait for a sign to act on this purpose.
The silver ball drops from her hand, too heavy for her to roll anymore. The ball glows at her feet.
"She's here…" says the voice in her head. The voice has been in there for years, whispering to the girl when she was alone. For the past couple of days, the voice has become clearer and more specific in its commands. The voice has instructed the girl to sit out on the roof every night this week and the girl has done just that.
"So I'm not the only one," hums the girl. "What to do? What to do?"
She picks up the silver ball and places it back into her pocket. The ball has returned to its normal weight and color.
The girl sits on the roof's railing and closes her eyes. There, she can feel it. It is the slight tugging on her body, telling her there is another force out there like her.
Her cell phone vibrates with a text from her mom asking when Rebecca is coming in for dinner. Text messaging is the only way for the poor mother to communicate with her aloof children. Her daughter is a social outcast and her son is girl crazy.
Rebecca steps off the roof. Faint, silver wings sprout from her back. They slow her descent and the girl gracefully lands in the alley below. She texts her mom back. Going out. Won't be back for dinner. Rebecca then dashes off into the night in search of whoever is tugging her closer.
Rebecca Suu. Age 16. High school senior. Honor roll. Star track and field athlete. Set the fastest time in the school's history for the 100 meter last spring. No known friends. No known enemies yet.
She is a tall, lean girl with long, pale blonde hair. Three freckles on the left side of her face. Gray eyes. Doesn't smile. Doesn't laugh. Doesn't cry. She is the queen of ice stares.
She started hearing voices at the age of five. She remembers the first time she heard the woman in her head. It was at a cousin's birthday party. The voice told Rebecca she was special, and she would need to do something very important for the voice when she was a little older.
When she turned 16, the voice became louder and clearer. The voice told her about three armors and the woman who created them. The voice told her about the three sisters and the realm where they were banished to after death. The voice gave her commands and Rebecca followed them.
Rebecca found the silver ball. She called her armor. And she waited. She waited for the moment she could destroy the Armor of the Stars before it destroyed her and everything else.
Rebecca sits in the school's library, working on a paper for her independent study credits this semester. Rebecca watches her walk into the library. The other girl is unaware of Rebecca as she walks pass the table where Rebecca sits. The other girl has not been aware of Rebecca for the past couple of days, but Rebecca has been very aware of this other girl. The other girl is too busy chatting with her friend at this moment notice Rebecca's icy stare. Rebecca knows the girl's friend. Clara Renji. Freshman. Somewhat popular. Pretty. Definitely not an honors student.
Renji's friend is shorter, rounder, and has a boy hair cut. She wears a boy's school uniform in protest of the new, shorter skirts of the girl's uniforms. She is an honor roll student. Not a star athlete. Family has money. And she is close to skipping a grade or two, as soon as the school's curriculum catches up to her grade point average and test scores.
The two girls walk to the back of the library, up the stairs, and disappear onto the second floor. There is nothing up there but reference books and legal documents.
Rebecca leaves her books at her table and walks up stairs. Nothing but dusty books and boxes. Where did they go? A slight breeze blows pass her hair. A window is open. Rebecca fixes her hair and walks to the open window. She can smell Clara's lemon-lime perfume.
"Smells nice," she says to the open window and flies out.
A librarian is on the second floor a moment later to tell the young women they are not allowed on this floor. She finds no one and all the windows closed.