The Broken Crystal

Chapter Sixteen

Eleven fifty-seven. Eleven fifty-eight. Eleven fifty-nine. Twelve.

This was the day. The day he would die.

Luke had never really thought much about death before. It seemed like something that was always far away, distant, to him at least. But now that it was here, its presence put a damper on, not just his, but the whole camp's mood.

Crystal and Dean had been sitting next to each other in complete silence for almost two hours now. Evanna was doing everything to stop the execution from happening. And Haven? No one had any idea where she was or what she was doing.

Twelve five. Twelve six. Twelve seven.

Not being able to sit still any longer, Luke got up to his feet. He was hoping this would help him get rid of that odd, sickening feeling that had been building up in his gut. It didn't. Actually, he clutched his stomach, standing only made it worse.

Twelve eight. Twelve nine.

Luke stared aimlessly at his wristwatch. Its hands were whispering to him, their voices filled with pure hatred.

Twelve ten. "You'll never turn nineteen."

Twelve eleven. "You'll never get the chance to say goodbye to Evanna."

Twelve twelve. "And you'll never, ever see the sun again."

Staying calm was proving to be more and more difficult with every minute that passed by. Luke's eyes were already watering, his throat burning like literal hell. He felt like screaming. He felt like shouting and yelling and crying and kicking and punching and fighting and finally breaking that goddamn watch!

Instead, Luke took a deep breath. He knew that if he lost his cool, he wouldn't be able to get it back again. So he walked to the doorway, hoping the fresh air would calm his nerves. Once there, he couldn't help but try, yet again, to step through the door with his free foot. But no matter what he did, no matter how far he stretched, it still wasn't enough.

Twelve twenty. "You'll never feel free again."

Luke wasn't sure if he could hold back his tears anymore. He almost felt relieved when he saw the world was crying too. But if it was on his side or the others', he didn't know.

The rain hit his face, propelled by the harsh winds outside. It was pouring now and the noises he heard hinted at an oncoming storm. The stars, however, shone as bright as always, seemingly oblivious to the chaos that went on around them.

Still, Luke hoped they weren't completely indifferent to his fate. That the cold masses of light and gas actually cared and that the world had chosen his side today. It was the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

"Pull yourself together, boy! And straighten your back." That's what his mother would've said if she'd seen him now.

Luke had been thinking a whole lot about his parents lately. So much so, he'd started hearing their voices in his head. Though it wasn't all that surprising. He was about to die, after all.

"Burn in hell," he said back to his mother, but still couldn't resist the urge to straighten his back.

"Do you remember my brother?" At first Luke thought it was his imaginary parents talking to him again. It took him a while to realize the voice he had heard didn't belong to his father.

Confused, Luke looked up. By the doorway, completely drenched from the rain, stood Nate. His dark brown hair dripped, the water landing on the already soaked grass.