The Whisperers

Chapter III

I did this on the computer so the format is a little weird. just a little heads up c: enjoy!

Pain rings through my ears. Tears start to form in my eyes. What was that noise? Theo lays on the floor catching his breath.

"Theo I-" I start to say but he interrupts me.

"Anna it's okay, I'm okay. The only thing I'm concerned about is you. Are you okay?" he asks while slowly getting up. He winces in pain.

"Oh! Theo you're hurt" I rush over to him and grab his arm causing his eyes to close in pain. I examine his hand and look into his eyes apologetically.

"It's nothing Anna"

"Shut up. Just, shut up and listen to me" I wait for him to look into my eyes. "Are you listening to me Theohno?"

"Yes, I'm listening," he mumbles.

"I got you in this mess and I'm getting you out of it"

"But-"

I shush him

"I-"

"MRS. DUN I THINK THEO BROKE HIS ARM!"

"What the hell Anna?" he says with wide eyes. I shush him again.
I hear rapid footsteps coming up the stairs. Mrs. Dun bursts through the door.
"THEO DARLING ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" she yells
"Mom I'm-" he starts to say.
"What happened Anna?" she interrupts
"We were um..." I try to think of an excuse "Playing video games and um...Theo got angry and threw his controller hitting his arm on the floor really, really hard,"I conclude. My lying skills are getting better and better.
Mrs. Dun looks at him disapprovingly.
"Get your coat, we're going to the hospital. Thank you, Anna, for watching over Theo. He might need a babysitter very soon," she says with a chuckle.
I smile and give Theo a little wave and run down the  stairs to the front door. I head out and close the door with a huge sigh. I need to get my powers in control. Now.

I pop in my earbuds in as a walk to my bus stop. Everything is blocked out in my musical escape. The rock music accelerates causing me to turn down the music. My ears are important. They music may be good but, my body comes first. As I walk to the familiar tree with all of the advertisements and other shit, I feel the autumn breeze against my fingertips. As the music starts to slow down and my eyes drift off to the papers stapled on the tree. There is a flier titled: MISSING BOY. He seems about my age and has brown hair with vibrant green eyes. It seems like he stares right back at me. I check the date written in fine print on the corner of the article, 1996. That's odd. They usually get rid of old fliers and articles. I narrow my eyes and rip the paper off of the tree bark leaving an indent in the tree. No one will worry about an old and worn news article from 1996. I hear the familiar rumble an engine. A yellow school bus pulls over on the curb. I inhale.