The Seven Keys

Logan- 2

Logan

Brrrmmmppp brrrmmmppp brrrmmmppp!

    I bolted upright, alert with anxiousness, pretty much chucking my Kermit the Frog alarm clock to the other side of the room. I couldn’t believe I had fallen asleep! What was that supposed to mean? There were two reasons why horror pumped through my body, along with excitement, and I didn’t like either of them.

    First of all, the past three weeks since that day in Shanghai with the key have been one big nightmare: literally. Each night I had been dreading to fall asleep, terrified of what might visit me in my dreams.  Everytime time I drifted off I was haunted by images of black swirls of dark magic, or at least thats what it looked like. I saw people being sliced open, festering wounds that could never be healed. I didn’t know at all what it meant, but more than anything I wanted to help them. And last of all, there was the voice, the fluid sweet feminine voice that always said, “Listen what no one else may hear, shift in impossible forms, move to nowhere near,  fly to unknown worlds, fall to nothing in stealth, see what no one knows, and mend every broken health.”

    It was incredibly creepy, and I honestly had no idea what to do about it. But the weird thing about last night was- against my earnest attempt to stay awake- I slept, but no dreams came.

    Second of reasons to be anxious: today was my first day of tenth grade at Parksburg High School in Ithaca, New York. We arrived here about a week ago, just in time to get me registered and ready to go.

    But indeed I was not ready.

    “Guess what day it is?” I heard in my ear.

    I flopped back down on my bed from my sitting position and pulled my pillow over my head. “Go away,” I moaned. “I’m still sleeping.”

    “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

    Suddenly there was a heavy weight on my stomach, and my slow sleepy breath stopped. I knocked my pillow off my eyes and flung it at Peter, who was sitting on me with a huge grin.

    “Ugh, get off me!” I heaved, trying to shove him off.

    “Are you going to get up?”

    The clock read 5:45. “Are you crazy?” I shrieked at him, as loud as I could with my shortage of breath. “Go away!”

    His smile widened. “Dad told me that we should be there at least an hour early, and he said that if you didn’t wake up...” He jumped up, getting off of me. I barely had time to take a deep inhale of oxygen before his hand was on my shoulder, shoving me and, before I knew it, had me rolled off the bed.

    As soon as I thunked to the ground with a painful landing, he may have as well put a bomb on my head. I was fuming. I stood up quickly, taking a lunge at my brother before he could move.

    I flew into him, pushing him with my massive angry strength and causing him to stumble. Oddly enough, he fell out the door and, right when he was about to come back at me, I slammed it in his face, locking it.

    I didn’t know why I was so moody this morning, so I just added it to my list of unfortunate, confusing things of this horrible day.

    I took a few heavy breaths before I ran my fingers through my hair, deciding I really would have to get ready, no matter how much I didn’t want to. It was, well, the first day of school, and I didn’t want to look like a dump.

    After I had showered and brushed my teeth, I picked out my outfit consisting of yellow bell bottom cords, a blue t-shirt, and a light crocheted sweater, along with my blue converse to finish it off.