Fantastical Tales

Rise the Resurrection

"Would you look at that! She's just the most adorable thing..." Andrea cooed over the small bundle. "What's her name? Have you decided yet?" She glanced up at the couple.

Julia and Alan shared a look. Andrea had been giving them name ideas left and right. Their final decision didn't include any of her suggestions

Julia finally answered, "Elizabeth Ann Thatcher. Elizabeth after Alan's grandmother, and Ann because it means radiance."

To their surprise, Andrea nodded. "Truly makes sense. It's a beautiful and inspiring name." If only they knew how much "radiance" this child had...

* * * * *

"Hawke. Hawke! Hawke Arthur Green, get your butt down here!"

Hawke turned over, mumbling, "Five more minutes, Mom." She had already tried to wake him up by turning the light on. Needless to say, it hadn't worked.

A shadow loomed over him. "If you don't get up right this instant, then I'm taking your laptop AND your phone for the next week!"

"That's fi- Wait, what?" He shot up out of bed, and rubbed his eyes furiously. They opened to see his mother, with her hands on her hips. As she folded her arms, Hawke's little sister, Kate, poked her head into the room.

"Mom! I can't pour the syrup by myself!" Kate ran up and clung to her leg. "Can you please help me?"

Hawke's mom sighed. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute." She ruffled little Kate's hair, then turned her attention back to her son. "Hawke, please get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast. Your pancakes are going to get cold."

Hawke nooded, watching Kate lead their mother out of the room. Closing the door behind them, he started getting ready for school.

* * * * *

Once Hawke left his house, he threw his hood on, over his headphones. It was gray and gloomy outside, the sun hiding behind the clouds. He was listening to his power metal playlist, letting the guitar echo in his thoughts. His backpack hung from his shoulder, carrying his laptop setup, folders, and notebooks.

He turned the corner and saw his bus stop. Normally, there were five or six people standing around and bickering about the cold and the rain, but this year, only one person stood there. Her backpack was on the ground, slightly open, and she had her nose in a rather large book. Her curly gold hair hid her face, but she seemed enthralled by its contents.

The craziest thing about her, however, was her o=clothes. She wore a white button-up shirt, and a knee-length black skirt. Her socks were really long, so only her knees were visible, and her black shoes had even been shined. Though she did have long sleeves, Hawke shivered at the thought of wearing something like that in this kind of weather.

When he reached her, Hawke pulled his hood and headphones off. As he opened his mouth to begin a conversation, she sharply spoke. "Don't even think about it."

He shut his mouth. Ouch. He tried again, hoping he had something witty to say.

The girl sighed, closing her book. "Fine. My name is Elizabeth Thatcher." She turned to address him, and held her hand out.

"My name's Hawke." He shook her hand. "Uh, Hawke Green. What... What are you reading?"

"William Shakespeare's The Tempest. I find it very entertaining." She turned back to her book.

"...Oh." Hawke didn't know what to say after that. He wasn't much of a reader.

Silence. Awkward silence. Hawke tried again. "Uh... It rained. Last night, I mean." He almost smacked himself for being so boring.

"Congratulations to the rain, then." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The bus came around the corner, and she grabbed her backpack. As they got on, she called back, "You know, you are really bad at conversations."

Hawked groaned. This was going to be one long school year...