Sequel to the Wattpad novel The Age of Aquarius
E.J. Thompson, a reclusive author and former journalist, recalls the tales of four teenage criminals as Brooke King, Caleb Wolfe, and Nessa and Johnny Phoenix had exposed a corrupt billionaire for ille...
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Pretentious noises had always scared me when I was younger.
I had detested going to my bedroom at night, fearing that the infamous will gouge my eyes out at night. My parents would come upstairs and lay beside me until I dared myself to close my eyes.
Looking back on this memory, I could almost feel the animosity in the children's eyes, as their parents, school, and innocence was taken away from them.
Society has committed many terrible acts— from losing innocent celebrities to creating barriers between the gifted and the zealots.
As much as I wanted to give these youths an optimistic life, you must understand that not every novel has a happy ending. Writing a story about a hero saving a damsel in distress is like a script filled with superfluous cliches.
They are redundant, unrealistic, and confuses the reader. But in the end, writers are as flawed as their characters.
Brooke received a vision of an enormous bat, performing dangerous stunts in the sky. Its eyes were as white as the moon; dark brown fur bristled in the somber breeze. Its mottled, pig-like sniffs for a mortal to feast on. Just then, it picked up an alluring scent, which smelled oddly of candy and aftershave.
Oh, fuck. she thinks.
Brooke wanted to draw the gruesome scene, but she didn't bring any pen and paper to the dinner table. Maybe after dinner, the oracle would inform her friends about these horrid visions.
Speaking of horrible, Johnny was shaken by the angry screeching noises that didn't sound like any type of bird he had encountered in California.
Intimidated by the abrupt sound, a disturbed Johnny mumbled, "what the hell was that?"
His friends and little sister were also uneasy by the constant wailing outside that Johnny slid out of his chair, approach the window, and pull back the musty brown curtains.
Regardless, just as Caleb was about to open the window, the shrieking sounds ceased.
"What the hell was that?" he wondered.
A relaxed Mrs. Sanchez reassures the boy by insisting that the startling noises must have come from the construction workers clearing the streets for the Day of the Dead parade.
"Ugh, God." Caleb moaned.
"Hey," frowned Mr. Sanchez. "The Day of the Dead reminds every one of us to embrace our heritage."
Johnny nods in agreement. "Yeah, Nessa and I used to go to the Day of the Dead festival when we were kids."
Taken by these shocking words, a curious Mr. Sanchez scrunched his eyebrows. "Your parents took you to the festival?"
Nessa and Johnny both nodded in response.
"So, why do you two look white?"
"Manuel," whispered Mrs. Sanchez. "Please, do not be rude to these kids."
