Chapter Three: The Abandoned Station, Twenty-Four

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The Abandoned Station, Twenty-Four (I)

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The room couldn't be dustier with Rob preparing the things he needed for this camp. Rob brought with him the essentials only, because his grandma reminded him to leave the requirements for later when he would be picked up. She said that there would be a special place where he could find all those supplies. Rob rummaged through the drawers and cabinets, creating a mountain of clothes. Beside the bed, luggages that appeared fragile were heaped up, bathed by the glorious ray of the sunlight outside that seeped through the window.

​Though he had a hard time settling things into his bag, this was far the best morning Rob had experienced: no running to school late, no bullies, and the most exciting part was, no Uncle George. Uncle George had packed up for a visit in a friend's house outside of town, and went there early morning by the local bus. He would spend the weekend there, and Rob couldn't just be happier with this moment. Rob considered this time as a gift.

​As he sat on the lumpy mattress, Rob took one last look at the room, cherishing every bit of memory he did inside before he'd leave and spent a couple of months on this so called Camp Hexarth.

​His grandma said that Camp Hexarth was a wonderful place to be, despite it having magic as what she had told. But the camp was where secrets lurked from the unknown and possessed a power that could somewhat change a person—literally.

​Well, Rob never believed in magic before. He was a down-to-earth type of person, but with the peculiar (yet creepy) event which took place yesterday, Rob had a little faith that magic truly existed in this world, and that things were not as what he saw them to be.

​Rob cracked his neck, and stretched his arms to the fullest to snap out of day dreaming. And perhaps maybe get back to packing his things. Rob was done when the clock stoke eight in the morning.

​He heaved one heavy sigh as he gazed beyond the window. There she was, Mrs. Tilda, glaring at the purple tulips with envy. Mrs. Tilda kept looking back and forth at her hibiscus bush—which was dying—to Rob's healthy and well-maintained primroses, dripping a mirror-like droplet that reflected the evergreen grass from its soft petal. Her nostrils flared as she mowed her almost-dry lawn.

​Rob laid his body on the bed, and thought of taking a rest for a while. He stared on the wooden ceiling and pulled another deep sigh, as he wondered about the weird whisperings that called his name yesterday.

​The voice echoed inside his head, hunting his mind and thoughts for something. He pressed both hands on his forehead, and very sudden, his breath became fast. Rob pictured someone so familiar, as the voice, now shrieking, consumed every last thought inside. Rob curved into a tight ball until he succumbed to sleep.

​There was light.

​A blinding light that shone almost half as bright as the sun. Rob looked around the white, infinite space of what was supposed to be a field. He didn't really know why he was brought up to this place, but it felt empty to be here. However, just beyond the light, a figure of someone came into view. Rob squinted his eyes, but this time, he saw the silhouetted body more of a woman than a man.

​As she got nearer, Rob could not do anything and was speechless of her godly beauty, other than kneeling on the strange-looking grass. Her eyes were like galaxies colliding unto each other, so bright that his own hurt to look straight unto it. The celestial flow of her hair, in curls, floated at her back with sparkles sprouting from each strand. She was divine.

​Her tall figure made it even harder for Rob, tilting his head up, only to see the woman's reminiscing smile. She bowed down, whispering a strange yet unfamiliar language into his ear. Euphonious as her voice spoke, she started to drift away, and something from her eyes told Rob that something was not right.

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