The Imaginary

Chapter 2: The Transfer Student Is a Junior Mystery Man Part 2

THE IMAGINARY

CHAPTER TWO: THE TRANSFER STUDENT IS A JUNIOR MYSTERY MAN

PART 2

Mr. Junior was the center of attention. It became obvious in lunch break. Everyone welcomed the first-day stranger. They sat next to him, then asked a few questions. I still had my suspicions. I believed he was a spy undercover.

"Hobbies, Lucas?" said Laura. He got her good side. Now, he had the authority bias. "Do you have any?"

"Nothing in particular."

"Everybody’s gotta have one!"

I was skeptical of this bias, though. They were acting too familiar. Plus, Laura even left her best friend alone, there by the window.

"Well, I guess this could do. I love collecting."

"Collecting what?"

"I call them my 'treasures.' They’re just a bunch of stones." Aha! This was the first clue. Let me write this down. "But I value them. They’re special."

"That’s cute." Ms. President, come again? I think I knew what was happening. Yes, this was the "more than friends" thing.

I left the classroom, for some alone time at the rooftop. There was a riot in the school corridors. Alex and his jarwicks loved pranks. Today, their thing was posting post-its on people. Simon was the scapegoat.

"Gotcha! My jarwicks, go forth! Show them bamblewons!"

Alex Redsand was the definition of obnoxiousness. He was the evil school bully. He had swept back brown hair, which hid his bully-type persona and showed that of a casual schoolboy. Like Rex, but less formal.

"Jake! I heard the new student’s in your class." We were really good friends, but I didn’t associate myself with them. "Could be a potential jarwick."

"Could be. He’s behind you, Alex."

Lucas was now on a tour, with Laura as his guide. I wonder what happened next. It could be jarwick bad.

In the rooftop, the sky was in sight. It was gloomy, littered with patches of unclear darkness, as if it could cry anytime. I boggled the mystery stack. Silver was a stranger, but he was familiar. I felt that I’d met him a long time ago. Then, there was this moving map.

"You have forehead cracks. It is a sign of distress. What is it, Jake? Is it my eye?"

"Your eye?"

"The parchment. It is my eye."

"I don’t quite follow. Silver, when did we first meet?"

"Last week. After my trip to Julia’s den."

"You sure?"

"Quite." He vanished in thin smokes, then reappeared above me. "Do you suggest that we are--I observe--longtime companions?"

"Quite."

"That is strange. I am still foreign to the human realm."

He swayed until the fade, like the wind.

It was going to rain, probably, and I was lucky for not bringing an umbrella. Totally lucky. I heard a hushed creak.

"I figured you’d be here, Jake," the refreshing voice said. Yes, totally lucky.

"Sarah? I thought you were with Laura."

"Oh? She’s busy. Talking to Lucas." She sounded bitter for a second. Maybe it was just my imagination.

"They’re really close." I was startled. I instantly kept the paper in my pocket.

"And we haven’t talked like this for quite some time, so I was thinking, maybe it would be nice if we could. Don’t you want to?"

"I’d love to, Sarah."

Silence dropped. It was painful, like being stabbed by hundreds of knives in the back. I wanted to speak, but I couldn’t. My cowardly self prevented me.

"You haven’t changed." She sat beside me, then let out soft laughs. "Always goofing around." Eye contact, woah. The air turned awkwardly warm. "You really do love this place, don’t you?"

"Yeah. I love gazing at the sky. It makes me feel at ease. It makes my troubles fade to nothing. You remember last week? At Berrygrove?"

"Yes. Thank you, for saving me. And for taking me home."

"No problem." I felt the slow rush of scarlet to my cheeks. I looked the other way to make it less obvious. Decades had gone past before it subsided. "Why were you at Berrygrove that night?"

"I heard this girl’s voice. She was crying for help. In my head. Nonstop. I was worried. I ran to where it seemed coming from. I found myself in Berrygrove after. I saw her in the swings. The voice then changed to howls, and everything just blacked out."

"I’m confused here. You can see spirits? Since when?"

"Since last week." Silver, you were in trouble now. What did you do to her? "I can see your friend, too. Where’s he?" It was confirmed. She really could see him.

"Off to Julia’s den. To find the good stuff. He’s fond of that place."

"Who’s Julia?" Her tone changed, more serious now. In my overly optimistic mind, her speech showed a very tiny but still existent hint of jealousy.

Another scoop of peace, then another zest. "You remember how we used to play in Berrygrove? Back then?"

"Good times. We’d always play in the swings and sing this song. What was it?"

"Forever Windy Days. How could you forget that?"

"Right, I’ll remember that."

We both laughed, our voices in tune, synchronized like the choir.        

"Why this place again?" She was really curious.

"It’s the perfect place to watch the flowery winds. They’re only occasional. But I can be patient. I can wait." I hoped she got the meaning I concealed in those words.

"Let’s watch it together." Was she serious? "I’m sure it would be a beautiful sight."

"That’d be great. There’s one coming soon."

*****

The stomps and the merry voices had long gone, replaced by a ghostly presence. When Room 211 had opened in the moving map, I followed quietly and entered the room.

"Oh, Jaky-boy, you’re here. Well-prepared now, are you?"

"I’m nervous, Madame."

"That’s normal. Now, if you would excuse me." She murmured swearing words to Charlie Goblinspell again. It was her daily dose of medicine.

"Mr. Blackwood, no person shall know," said Mr. Clark. I took my seat. "Can I take your word?"

"Yes, Sir. I keep secrets well. Especially if they’re dark secrets."

"And, I must say, that includes keeping the room out of public vicinity." Ah, yeah, I knew this, okay? But, Sir, this was the public. "You do understand, do you not?"

"Yes, Sir. That was just a careless mistake."

"Next time, be careful." He placed the diary on the desk. "Now, must you remember, when you start losing consciousness, think of nothing. Make your mind blank, stare in space."

I opened Julia Skyshell’s diary. It flipped by itself to some random page. First, there were cracks, pressed on the world. Second, holes emerged from them. Third, a gush. Then, last, the world descended to dissolving ashes. They were like the sand going with the storm.

All of a sudden, I was in a strange dark world, where many towers were erected to each one’s parallel. I walked to an alleyway, opened a door. I was presented with another one. I turned the knob, then the third door appeared.