The Elementals : The Dawn of Darkness

Chapter 1 - I Set Fire to My Classroom

The dream I was having ended abruptly with the sensation of falling and then waking up after smashing my head on the floor.

Falling out of bed is never the best start to anyone's morning but having a hard, wooden floor with no carpet certainly doesn't help. And having an unnaturally high bed.

"Ow..." I held both hands to my forehead, wincing in pain as the sharp pain began to dissipate leaving the dull, throbbing sensation that filled my head like the worst migraine in history. Or a hangover, both were just as bad. "Ow..." I moaned again, steadily pushing myself up to my feet, so I could stagger over to the mirror to examine the mark, and hoping that I wasn't about to see blood because it was too early in the morning for that drama.

I peered at the sleep deprived boy with a mess of brown hair and bright green eyes in the mirror with a crack running through his face from where a textbook had been thrown across the room in frustration while the thrower was thinking about why he'd thought GCSE history was a good idea. I stuck my tongue out at the mirror boy and he stuck his tongue out at me as I stared at the bruise on my head that was already beginning to turn purple. Great. The last day of high school ruined by a bruise shaped like a plank of wood slap bang in the middle of my forehead.

I glared at myself before stalking out of my room and into the shower, stopping momentarily to listen for any signs that my little brother and sister were awake yet. All quiet. I flicked on the light and had a brief battle with the shower before it began to spit out its pathetic bursts of water onto the wall. No rust today though, I thought as I stripped and stepped in. I jumped back, it's still bloody freezing though. After my circulation had been kicked into high gear I silently crept back into my room and managed to find a uniform that didn't smell too bad, and then opened the curtains allowing the early morning light to flow in, casting long shadows over everything it touched.

It was a nice sight, in its own unique way. The last remnants of the early morning mist curling away into the dew filled air, the concrete tower blocks standing tall and proud despite their ugliness and the faint roar of London's rush hour echoing through the window. Unique beauty that didn't distract me from the day. I sighed, pulling myself away from the window and walking out of my room and into the kitchen.

"Morning Mum," I said as I walked in.

Mum turned to me and gave me a warm smile. "Morning sweetheart," she walked over to give me a kiss on the forehead when she suddenly noticed the bruise. "Nick, what have you done to your head?"

"Oh this," I rubbed the bruise. "Oh, this is just a memoir from the three-headed demon I was fighting last night." She gave me the look that only a mother can manage. I grinned, "I fell out of bed and hit my head on the floor."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, "you could have just said that."

"And not even try to protect my dignity?"

"What dignity?" she grinned. We had a similar sense of humour, which did come in handy when I got into trouble for doing something stupid at school, like calling my drama teacher a cankerous old crackpot.

"Ha, ha, very funny," I plonked myself down at the table and began pouring cornflakes into a bowl.

Mum was busying herself in the kitchen, making my little brother and sisters breakfast while also packing their schoolbags. "Must have been some nightmare you were having," she said without turning around.

Yet another piece of evidence to suggest that my mother is a telepath. "Are you sure that you're not psychic? Because I swear that you can read my mind."

"I'm your mother, I can always read your mind. What was it about anyway? It must have been bad if you fell out of bed."

I thought for a while, desperately trying to claw back the fragments of the dream, but nothing would come. I shook my head, "I'm afraid I've got nothing, total blank spot."