Chapter 3
-Jalon-
Startled, he sat up straight in bed, the night air teasing his vision, making his surroundings grainy for a minute or two. Something had forced him awake, but scanning the room revealed nothing to him; there wasn’t a speck of dust out of place.
A cold sweat dripped from his forehead and onto his bare tan chest. His eyes felt wild and alive, different. It was frightening but more exciting than anything that had happened to him recently; it didn’t make sense because he didn’t know what it even was. That was what frightened him so intensely.
He looked down at his shaking hands and watched in confusion as his nails tuned as black as his hair. “What is going on?”
A rustling across the poorly put together room followed his words, which seemed to shatter in the dense summer air of India.
His brother stuck his head out of his nest of blankets on the floor of their shared bedroom. The moonlight highlighted the curve of his spine. “Jalon?” He said tiredly, “What are you doing?”
Suddenly the twelve-year-old’s eyes lit up in amazement and fear, “Jalon, what happened to your eyes!?”
Without a word, (his expression most likely said enough) Jalon leapt out of bed and over to the mirror propped up on his dresser. To his horror the eyes that stared back at him weren’t his own. They were no longer hazel, but silver with only some faint flecks of his original eye color left.
Running his shaky hands through his hair, Jalon paced back and forth, trying to figure this out. Then it hit him. Some kids around the slum had been talking about vampires- cold beings with silver demons’ eyes. Could it have all been true? Could Jalon be becoming what was used as a story to scare the local children? But once he started to smell the blood in his brother’s veins, he knew he couldn’t wait around to find out.
“Jalon, what’s happening?” his brother demanded.
“Everything is okay Tehru.” He soothed, frantically putting his donated school laptop into his backpack, various clothing items on top of that. He strode over to Tehru, his eyes full of silver tears. “Listen,” he gripped the boy’s shoulders and stared into his hazel eyes just as the dam holding back his tears broke. “I left in the middle of the night, while you were sleeping, you didn’t see me leave.”
“But−”
“I promise I’ll see you again, you can count on that. Tell mom I love her and she’s brave for holding up even though dad’s gone.” Jalon said, wanting to be able to say farewell himself but knowing it wouldn’t be possible.
“Jalon don’t go,” Tehru begged, “At least tell me what’s happening.”
“I can’t,” He said miserably, “because I don’t know. I love you bro.”
For the last time, the two brothers wrapped their arms around each other, tears streaming down each other’s backs. Then Jalon left through the window, walking out of Tehru’s life without so much as an excuse.
Jalon ran from the possibility of changing his mind. He didn’t know why but he was running for America, he had all the time in the world to get there. He just had to get out of India.
He kept running, his bare feet hitting the ground hard, pumping adrenaline through his legs to the rest of his body.
In the distance, Jalon could hear a faint melody. Someone was singing in words he couldn’t quite make out but the tune was enough. It was so mournful it was heart wrenching. Tears kept steady in Jalon’s eyes and streaked over his cheeks as he pushed across the landscape. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t ever stop. Not until he was far away and his family was safe.
