Chapter Two: Starting From Square One
In a jolt, I wake covered in sweat even though I’m submerged in a pile of snow – in the middle of Varėna, Lithuania, my hometown. I sit up, allowing the iciness to further seep into my clothing and against my lower regions – not the ideal rise-and-shine, but it’s better than yesterday’s wake-up call, which involved a mob of crazed pitch-fork holders and fire, lots of fire.
I rub warmth into my eyes and glance to my left at my companion, Luther. He’s breathing hard, face beet-red, and he’s staring at me. At eye contact, another jolts ripples up my spine. My wary-meter tips the scale, and my discomfort grows. Images flash across my vision – Luther choking me. I blink quickly and roll my eyeballs around to refocus them, on my pal. Nothing to worry about, I think, it was just a dream – a nightmare actually. He’s my best friend; he wouldn’t do such a thing.
“Sorry, I had a bad dream.” I exhale, and that breaks the tension because Luther’s face slowly loses the red tint and grows more like my surroundings, white.
“Me too,” he cracks a smile. “So, it’s the 21st of October. We have 10 days to get to America and gather the others; we better start going now.” Luther is up on his feet, and in astonishment, I fall back into the throne of snow that I’ve made myself. Luther has never been so insistent on leaving right away, usually we discuss our previous failures for a while and then go.
“Let’s just focus on making it to Prague first, they'll let us fly out from there – they’re used to myths, magic, and the supernatural.” I respond. “Unlike people here.” I groan.
Chesire lives in Salem, a place that has a big problem with witches, which is a big no-no because we’re a special breed of witches. Me, I live in Lithuania, and let’s just say, they’re not very fond of us either. And then there are the others, who mostly live in the Northwestern/Southwestern hemisphere – around the same place as the others, but a big pain in the neck for Luther and I (the joys of being an outlier).
“Prague. Prague, how we love you.” I sing. “Come on Luth, teleport us there.” I ask (demand), enjoying the snow.
“About that…” Luther looks away, in the direction from which we ran from yesterday. “I’m saving my energy right now, so we’re going to have to think of something else.”
Did I hear him correctly? Save energy?
“Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something? Is the cold getting to you because I can summon up some hot chocolate for you?” I offer, looking at the average-heighted boy.
“I hope I am. Come along Munro, we have a lot of ground to cover if we want to reach Chesire by Halloween.” He holds his hand out to me, and I take it.
Together, we walk the valley of snow and silence, contemplating whether this version of our reality will be better than the last dozen we’ve attempted to manipulate in our favor.
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Danger Days
Jugendliteratur"Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?" - [Daughter by Janice Lee] Fourteen-and-a-half year old Chesire Summit has always been put down and looked at as a troubled child, and she's sick and tired of it, so to prove her tormentors wrong, she conjures...
