Immortal Enemies

Chapter Two

Hi everyone! Yeah its me bugging ya before I post this chapter. So...not sure if i should continue this all the way. I'll post a few more chapters before I decide. Anyways...

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PLEASE :) I need to know if this is worth continuing!

So...here it is. It will get better, just give it a chance. I PROMISE...Luv u all :) 

One last thing. I didn't edit so...there may be errors...sorry. 

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A little over six years ago…

The clouds are immaculate here. Glistening, puffing in and out with every rolling movement. I could easily spend the rest of my life here, sitting in this soft dewy meadows of Florida. Large orange trees seclude me, dangling the bright fruits just out of my reach. I come to my feet, fully extending my fingers to grasp the teasing neon citrus. My nails dig into its glossy skin, peeling it off in small shreds. When the soft flesh of the orange is exposed, I sink my teeth into it, the juice exploding across my tongue.

"Zayne." A voice whispering my name zips past me. Startled, I drop the orange, looking about at the trees, where the voice seemed to be coming from. "I…dump…ice…ate…head…you…wake…Zayne!" it bobs in and out of my ears, making the message completely indecipherable. A ping on the top of my head gives me a scare. My hands rise up to my thick black hair, feeling the spot. Wet…I think, looking up at the trees. The oranges bleed out all their juice onto  me as I do, the torrents of juice enough to drown someone. I scream and dart from the tree, soaking wet from head to toe. I snap awake, shivering and, surprisingly drenched. What was orange juice in my dreams appeared to be just water in real life. My eyes snap upward, catching onto my mother, who holds a bucket upside down over where I slept on the wooden floor.

"Mom!" I bark. "What was that for?"

"I told you I'd dump ice water on your head if you didn't get up, Zayne." She pulls her lips into a thin line and gives a half smile. Suddenly, in the midst of all her energy, she bounces upward, her blonde curls springing down her back. "C'mon, get excited!" she cheers, clicking her fiery red heels together. "You're going to college!" She yanks me to my feet and pulls me into a hug, swaying back and forth erratically. Her grip on me is so tight I can almost feel my eyes pop straight out of my head.

"Mom," I croak disapprovingly at my mother, who lets go in response. She wipes down her small frame with her palms as she pulls away. I have such a bad headache I can't even see straight. It feels like my heartbeat is in my skull, stinging as it repeatedly throws itself against the soft tissues in my brain.  "What time is it?"

"Two AM. " My jaw hangs open in disbelief. I stare blankly down at my half packed suit cases and grind my teeth together in my nervousness.

"Why didn’t you wake me up!" I snap at my mother, dropping to my knees and messily tossing things into random bags.

"I just did. With ice water," she offers a smile as she rips through my closet, helping me stuff the remainder of its contents into my duffle bags. My mom loves being the creative pop in our family, wearing the most outlandish fashion pieces, decorating the house in exotic new ways, and even waking people up creatively. Never once has she just slightly nudged my shoulder to wake me or allowed me to use an alarm clock. She thinks waking up in a creative fashion starts a creative day, but I choose not to believe that. What she calls creative, I call torture.