The Silver Prince

2

    " No no! Put the crocodile into the fridge, not into the hippo. " Owen mumbled. He always talked in his sleep, and tonight was no exception.
    But, Owen almost never woke up in the middle of the night, and yet some how, at 2:09 A.m he was so traumatized by the fact that the crocodile was not being put into the the refrigerator, that he groggily sat up, half awake in his bed in which by that time, he forgot all about the poor crocodile that was being stuffed into the hippopotamuses mouth.
      " my mouth's so dry it could be a desert. " he said, as he got up to get a drink. Finding the bathroom, he stepped inside and turned the faucet on. Getting his fill of tap water, Owen groggily made his way to his bed.
     Tossing and turning he found himself absently looking at the wall, then his door, and finally, The Lunar Race. The cover was dimly lit, and by now, Nova was really starting to freak Owen out.
    He started to turn away, but he quickly looked back. He had saw something out of the corner of his eye, and had to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
     Novas eyes, which had been absently staring at  the corner of the book, we're now glued to Owen.
      Owen stared. He blinked. He rubbed his eyes, and stared some more. Then, in plane sight, the picture mouthed two words. Over and over. Owen tried to make sense of them, he stared as the black haired girl mouthed the words again.
     Her purplish eyes shone desperately.
Help us. Help us. Help us. Help me. Help us.
    Owen couldn't believe it, he had to be going crazy. " now Owen, " he mumbled to himself. " something in that dinner of yours didn't quite settle right, or maybe it's just a bit of undigested beef. "
    Even after telling himself a million times to get a grip soldier, or get a hold of yourself, the drawing of Nova still mouthed
Help us. Help us. Help us. Help us. Help us.
   " I'mmmmm going insaaaaane and that's alllllll right! No. no it's not. Is too. Is not. Is too. Is not! "
      Owen rocked back and forth on his bed. " oh Owen, Owen, O, get a grip. "
   Owen peeked up from behind his knees. The Only thing moving were the blades of his ceiling fan.
    He sighed. " guess I'm not going crazy after all. " he said reaching to touch the book.
     His fingers made contact with its smooth hard surface and CRACK! All was dark, all was quiet.