ORB

ORB

EMMA GRAY

To my family and friends, who were the first interpreters of the novel and the most helpful ones in editing and processing. I couldn't do anything without you guys, and I know you will always be there for me. We do not know how lucky we are.

My thanks go to everyone who believed in this project-family, friends, teachers, other peers-and all the constructive criticism. I thank all the creative minds out there, you are the ones who make the impossible possible.

1. Keep It Safe

As I looked into his eyes, I saw worry and fear. Sweat rained from his forehead. As he looked up at me with a hopeful gaze, I held his hands to try to stop them from shaking. Although mine were small and fragile in his rough, giant palms, I was so desperate for them to stop shuddering. I wanted him to stay with me.

"Pete," he whispered in solemn sobriety.

"What do you need, Daddy?" I squeezed his hand.

"I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright piece of glass.

I took it from him and examined its clear, shiny surface.

"Hold it to the light," he instructed creakily.

Lifting it with my hand, I placed it in a direct beam of sunlight streaming in from the window. The moment the light hit it, many brilliant colors shone in a rainbow across the hospital bed.

"Whoa!" I exhaled, hushed in wonder. Only ten years old, simple things like this amazed me. "It's so beautiful!"

He smiled. "Yes, Pete. It is very beautiful." Then his smile faded. "You must promise me, no matter what happens, you'll keep it safe."

"I promise."

He smiled again, and the machine next to me began to beep faster and faster until it came to a complete stop. As tears crawled down my face, I felt his hand go cold, and he closed his eyes for the very last time.

2. First Impressions

"Ouch!" I pulled my hand out from under the hood of the car. Peeking back and forth between the razor-sharp, gnarled motor part and my own tattered skin, I winced. Blood began to spill from the new slice between my thumb and my index finger. I sighed and walked over to the sink, the faucet making a weird, gurgling noise before supplying a puny drip. I knew I needed to get it fixed, but I did not have enough money or time. After I washed the red off my hand, I covered the injury with a light Band-Aid. Casual as ever, I turned up the radio and went back to work on the dangerous vehicle. As if possessed, the motor sent wild electric zap through my veins, causing me to vibrate unnaturally.

I jerked back my hand, which was already suffering. As blisters formed on my skin, I heard footsteps. My friend walked in through the garage doors. The auto shop was one of his daily stops on his summer jogs, so he was always popping in to try and help...like everyone in the neighborhood. I also knew him from school since we were in the same class. We were not close, I wasn't close to anybody, but I guess you could say we were friends. Occasional friends, that is. With two fingers, I gave him a little wave. "Hey, Walter."

"Hey, what's up?" He came over to the car to watch me work, his bronzy skin glistening with sweat. You could tell he had been running fast today, most likely in a hurry.

"I'm working on Dave's demonic car."

"I see." He laughed, flashing me with his professionally whitened teeth.

I smiled halfheartedly and wiped my sooty face on a rag. Unlike Walter and his rich, carefree lifestyle, I could barely afford the crappy off-brand toothpaste I used now.