Hi! I'm Eimmac

Hi! I'm Eimmac and I am very excited to be part of anecdote FINALLY! I have an idea for a story, so soon I will post it! :D

LuCA {Chapter Four}

LuCA {Chapter Four}

(c) Akire Zyll Flickerclaw

The signal emitter was a silver rectangle, about 3/4 foot by 2 feet. It was a few inches high, and there was no way to open it as far as Mila could see. As she ran her hands over it, she noticed that the surface was unnaturally slippery: she could barely get a grip on it. Jakk had decided to drive while Mila examined the rectangle.

"Anything?" Jakk said over his shoulder.

"Nope," Mila answered. "Is the signal still up?"

Jakk tapped a few buttons on his tablet. "Yep. I think we're going to have to bring it to ULOS for inspection, just to be on the safe side."

Mila groaned. "ULOS takes forever. Do you know how many regulation forms they have to fill out?!" ULOS was the acronym for Unidentified Moon Object Services. They regulated and tested any objects found outside the colony. "And we might not even get it back," Mila added.

"What are we going to do with it then?" Jakk flipped the switch to put RALT on auto-pilot and turned his seat to face Mila. "Smuggle it in?"

Mila smiled one of her signature Cheshire cat grins. "Exactly."

☯☯☯☯

Mila and Jakk stared at the rectangle, their hands beneath their chins. "It's not doing anything," Jakk said in a whisper. "Shut up," Mila snapped. "Maybe if you'll stop talking, then it'll activate, or something..."

Jakk stood up. "We've been here for--" he checked his lunar watch, "almost an hour. I'm going to get some dinner. Want to come?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Mila said, not taking her eyes from the silver object. "You go on ahead."

Jakk sighed, gave the rectangle a last parting glance, then picked his way through the junk in his lab. Mila heard the lab door open and close as he walked out, but she paid no attention. All of her scrutiny was focused on the silver rectangle that lay a few inches from her nose. She could see her warped reflection in it's shiny depths. On an impulse, she reached out her index finger and touched the object's surface.

The silver surface rippled under her touch. Mila pulled her hand away instantly, but the change did not stop. From where her finger had touched, a black stain rippled outward, engulfing the entire rectangle. With a hiss, the top half of the rectangle separated from the bottom. Mila scrambled away from the morphing object in distress, knocking her chair over. She clicked on her headset, but all she heard was static.

"Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Repeat, is anyone there?"

Nothing but feedback.

By now the top rectangle had floated over and laid itself to the side. Mila approached the other half of the object and peered cautiously inside. The inside was completely white, blank. Mila groaned. "All this for nothing?!" Her voice echoed around the empty lab. She didn't expect an answer, but one came. From the rectangle on the table.

-Who has activated my probe? Speak up!-

Mila gaped in astonishment. "I'm....Mila Arwyr," she stammered at last. "Of LuCA."

-What is this "LuCA" you speak of?- [[classic alien line, had to put it in there!]]

"Lunar Colony Alpha. What are you?"

The voice grew cold. -That is of no concern to you. Where is this LuCA?-

Mila crossed her arms. "Tell me what you are first, and then I'll tell you that."

-No matter- the voice sneered. -You have activated my device. The signal should be even stronger now. I should be thanking you.-

"For what?!"

The rectangle ignored her. -Tell me, how did a female carrying the blood of the Llachar come to be on Terra's moon?-

"Blood of the who?"

-Never mind. You have proved yourself useful. Too bad that you must be destroyed.-

In a flash of light, the box and it's contents disappeared, leaving Mila Arwyr with more questions than answers.

Blessed Silence {Izori}

Silence, blessed silence,
We wonder at your name.
So rare, and oh so precious,
In times of storm and fame.

For just one tiny second,
All of earth stands still
To revere your short moment,
As around us all life mills.

We take the time to wonder
At all that we hold dear.
If it will still be with us,
Or if parting time is near.

This life is much too short
To think of you for long.
But if I may just see you once
I’d sing a sweeter song.

Apologies

I'm sorry, but I can no longer be a part of Anecdote. I have too many blogs already and am trying hard to minimize my time on Blogger.

Thank you, Sally, for the wonderful writing experience Anecdote has given me. :)

Vickii. x

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Summer}

The Eleventh Installment Of:

Over The Edge

Summer

It was fun, just playing tunes during boardwalk time and have everyone sing along. I love the simple things that make people happy. A half hour of playing trumpet? No problem. I yawn long and deep as I change into pajamas back in the cabin, my cabinmates still singing strong, even as Emily tries to quiet them down for a quick bedtime story. Not wanting to miss any of it, I hurriedly swipe a toothbrush across my teeth, and jump up on the top bunk of my bed and snuggle down under the covers, one of the extra pillows from the nurse's cabin under my head. And long before Emily finishes reading for the night, I am asleep.

 

Drifted {Swirly Girl}

*this will be a story!*

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Beth}

The Tenth Installment Of:

Over The Edge

Beth

From what I've heard, vespers tonight was a big hit amongst the campers. I'm happy- if it got through to them that well, I hope they'll use it's message out in the world. As campers chatter along the boardwalk I hear the sound of a trumpet coming down from the cabin five area. Movie songs are played and I can hear people singing along to it as I walk closer. Sure enough, when I get to the sitting area outside the dean's cabin there's Summer flipping through a book of songs, silver trumpet in hand, clusters of campers and counselors making requests as she goes along. She looks up for a minute and notices me standing there watching.

“Oh hey Beth!” She says smiling. “Got a particular favorite you want to hear?”

I stop to think for a moment. “Well, Gabe says that earlier this summer you did a particularly nice arrangement of 'A Whole New World' from Aladdin. I wouldn't mind hearing that.”

“Sure thing!”

Everyone looks excited as I make the suggestion- obviously the song is a favorite. Summer starts to play, and the notes seem to hang in the air for a second before drifting away on the breeze. Gabe was right. It's an amazing arrangement, played wonderfully, and it escalates to a whole new level as the group starts to sing.

It's breathtaking, music is. And that song stayed in my head all evening until finally I slept, the beautiful strains of Summer's trumpet still echoing in my dreams.

 

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Emily}

The Ninth Installment Of:

Over The Edge

Emily

Later in the evening, after games in the parking lot and an evening snack, all the campers and counselors walk down to the chapel. This has to be my favorite place in the entire camp. Looking out over the water, tiki torches softly lighting the perimeter, birch tree cross standing triumphantly at the front. You can hear the water lap at the shore, the loons cry out across the lake, the soft sounds of an acoustic guitar rippling up to me from where a staff member plays on a bench up front near the cross.

The service starts, and we call out a hello to our resident echo across the lake and launch into song. I've missed these vespers services. Soon, Dean Beth stands up and starts to do a short sermon. I'm enthralled, simply sucked in by what she's saying. Heroes. Anyone. You don't need to have super powers or strength, a hero can be....anyone. Any one person at all, small acts of kindness, and you can be a hero. I could be a hero?

I could be a hero...

 

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Summer's Mom}

The Eighth Installment Of:

Over The Edge

Summer's Mom

We sit down to dinner at our normal time. My husband and son scarf down the food, but I just nibble tiny bites off of it. My husband notices.

“Honey? Why aren't you eating?”

I sigh before responding. “I'm worried about Summer.”

“She's been to camp so many times. She'll be fine.”

“I'm afraid she won't sleep.” He has nothing to say to that. He's worried too.

 

To My Turtle {Izori}

TO MY TURTLE
(c) Izori

A shell of royal olive,
A splash of pale bright gold,
Three letters on the underside
Black and gray and bold.
An yellow sunset glistens
In the slanting quiet eye,
And bubbles, their own little worlds,
Float up as you swim by.

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Phil}

The Seventh Installment Of:

Over The Edge

 

Phil

I take a moment to relax as the campers surge forward to demolish the piles of cookies laid out on the table. Deaning, wow, it's a lot, but seeing the happy faces of campers makes it worth it. It gets easier after the first day anyway. I only wish my wife was my co-dean as in years past, but Beth, who I've counseled along with for many years is a good substitute. Every year, I always want to teach these kids something important, something that they can bring back into the world, to help people. These teens, they are the hope for the world, and that's the reason I'm here, to teach them, and still have a great time. This week, I want them to learn how they can become heroes, and how they can change somebody's life if they can be an everyday hero to them.

Lost in my revels, I barely register the staff members beginning to ring the bell continuously signaling the Sunday evening fire drill. The week has truly begun.

 

LuCA {Chapter Three}

LuCA {Chapter Three}

(c) Akire Zyll Flickerclaw

"I hate having breakfast at Geal's in my work clothes." Mila took a bite out of her toast with butter and cinnamon.

"Why?" Jakk asked. He was busy cutting up his scrambled eggs.

"Everyone stares at me," Mila said, casting glances around at the other customers. "I mean, I know I'm only Labor and most of them are Elite, but they could at least be polite."

Jakk looked around. The resturant was made of a shiny, flawless white color. The tables, the chairs, even the workers' uniforms were pure white. The only color in the diner came from the customer's clothes, and most of those were a smooth silver, gray, or black. Only Jakk and Mila stood out: her in bright pants and boots, he in his crocheted green sweater and dark brown pants.

"Well, watch them bow on their knees and thank you when you fix everything in their over-bedazzled quarters." Jakk said, forking scrambled eggs into his mouth. "That'll be a sight to see."

"Yeah, but I hate feeling like I'm inferior to them," Mila complained. She lowered her voice. "Look at how they're staring at us. Like we're something that they scraped off the bottom of their polished shoe."

"What are you going to do about it?" Jakk leaned back in his seat and stared across the table at his friend.

Mila ran her fingers through her sandy blonde hair. "That's just the thing. I can't do anything about it." She sighed. "Forget it. It's just a stupid pet peeve."

Jakk studied her. "Hmm," he said indifferently. "Well, I'm done." He pushed out his seat and stood up. Mila did the same. Jakk laid down two gold lunarcoins down on the table.

"That breakfast cost me a lot. You eat like a pig," he teased as they walked out of Geal's.

"Hey, you wake me up early, you pay the price," Mila smiled. "Now, let's go hunt some signal."

☯☯☯☯

"You sure it was here?"

"Positive."

Mila and Jakk had been tracking down the signal for over eight hours. It had taken them at least six hours to get to the Other Side, even using RALT (Rover Alpha Lunar Three)'s boosters. They had been actually scanning the three mile radius for about two hours. The readings had gotten stronger the closer they got to the site, but so far they had found nothing.

The moon's blank, gray surface surrounded them. No crashed satellite, no mysteriously glowing rock, no weird looking craters. Nothing.

In RALT, Mila sighed. "Maybe we should just give up."

"Give up?" Jakk asked. "The great Mila Arwyr giving up? Impossible." He handed Mila a hand scanner. "Here. Let's get out on foot."

He pressed a button on RALT's console, and the top hatch slid open with a hiss. Jakk and Mila, dressed in their spacesuits, climbed out and onto the moon's surface. Mila bounced around, enjoying the feeling of being (almost) as light as air. LuCA had artificial gravity, and it had been a long time since Mila had ventured outside of the colony.

Jakk was scanning already. Mila pulled out her own scanner and bounded several yards away.

Blip. Blip. Blip.

The scanner was consistent in it's beeping. Mila walked forward.

Blip blip blip blip blip.

The beeps became more rapid. Mila walked forward another few bounds.

blipblipblipblipblipblipblipblip

The beeping became almost a single sound. "Jakk!" Mila shouted excitedly over her headset. "I think I found it!"

Band Geek {Part One}

The world is tuned out around me as I focus on one thing: White gloves. White gloves against the many colors of coats and hats and screaming faces. White gloves against the starry sky. Slowly, they move to a beat only they can hear. I stand perfectly still, my muscles burning from the tautness in my upper arms. Lights glint off the brass and silver surrounding me. Sets, roll-stepping, drum major, I think. So many things to remember. So many things to forget. So many reasons to live. But so many reasons to die. I give my head the slightest shake. I can’t think about that now. The white gloves bounce twice in the air and I snap my instrument up. A chorus of “dutt-ing” rises around me and then we’re on the move! Weaving in and around hashmarks, eyes dressing all the time. Italian dressing, I think to myself and I grin, making my sound waver. How long had it been since I’d had Italian dressing?
I clear my head and focus on counting, marching, music. Music. The thing I can’t bear to let go of, no matter how many other things urge me to leave. The last set, another snap of the instrument. A salute, and soon we’re marching in two perfect lines, all too aware of the judges who are waiting for a stumble, a foot out of step.
“Mark time march!” The voice of my band director cuts through the band as we move away from the field. “Great job, kids. Great show!” We pull off our Aussies and wipe our brows. As we head back to the trailer we fall into step with our friends, our instruments hanging limply at our sides.
“Hey, how do you think you did?” a voice asks behind me. I whip around, a warm feeling in my stomach as I realize who it is.
“Well, I didn’t run into anybody,” I say, grinning a bit.
“That’s good then! Say, do you think we’re going to go somewhere tonight?” asks Carter. “I heard Angie say something about going to Frank’s, you know, that fast-food place by the mall.”
“Yeah. And just because I don’t eat junk food doesn’t mean I don’t like it. Of course I know where Frank’s is. I just don’t have a ride.”
“I could give you a ride.” Carter’s eyes are wide, as if he’s willing me to say yes, of course I can get a ride with you.
“Thanks, I’ll just call my mom,” I say, giving in to his eyes.
“Great! Meet me by the trailer after. We can make a plan and get everyone to join us.” He smiles and goes to put his trombone away. I clutch my old, dented and scratched trumpet to my chest. Against everyone’s silver instruments my trumpet looks cheap and dull. I find my bag and hang my jacket in it on the hanger. Then I search around for my trumpet case. It’s easy to find, because like the trumpet the case is battered and used. I put the trumpet in it and tie the rope around it. It’ll hold until I save up enough money for a new trumpet. If I stay around for one. I shake my head again. That thought keeps creeping in from the crevices of my mind.
“Hey! Carrie! Come over here!” Another voice drags me from my thoughts. I put my trumpet with the other instruments and run over to my friend Jess who is waving at me.
“Carolina, you must be deaf,” she says, playing with a lock of my hair. “We were just figuring out where to go tonight.”
“Well, Carter said that Angie said that everyone was going to Frank’s,” I say.
“Yeah, that’s what we were saying,” says Jess. I look over to the busses and see the rest of the band getting on them.
“We better go, it would suck to be stuck here in Kingston,” says Angie from my right, stealing the words out of my mouth. A murmur of agreement ripples through the small throng of kids and we scatter to our assigned busses. The warmth is welcoming after the chilly October night. I half-crawl across legs until I get to the back of the bus to the seat I share with Angie. I lean against the cool window and look at my reflection in the glass. Bright blue eyes, perfect wavy blonde hair, smooth skin. I smile and white teeth enter the picture. No one would expect that Carolina Anderson was abused. Or that thoughts of death hovered on the edge of her brain. They saw a smart, skinny band geek. But if they knew what was going on in my head, what I would have to face at home, they would see a scared girl who relies on music to get her through everything.
The bus lurches to a halt outside of Westmont High School. We gather our things and collect the various wrappers from candy and chips that were thrown around the bus during the ride. I stagger down the stairs into the artificial light outside of the school. The smell of exhaust hangs in the air from the school busses. Angie is chatting with Jess and Lily in the corner. I walk over and join them.
“Hey Carrie. How was the bus ride?” asks Jess. She plays trombone so she rides on the low brass bus.
“Hah. It was loud. And full of flying pretzels.”
“Well, that’s what you get from marching band,” she says. “Come on, we need to get a ride with someone to go to Frank’s.”
“Well, Carter said that he could give us a ride,” I say. Jess holds up a finger to stop me.
“You really think you’re going to get into a car with Carter? I rephrase: You really think I’m going to let you into a car with Carter?”
“Well, I don’t know, he just offered...” I trail off, Jess’s eyes are glimmering in amusement. “What?” I ask, trying to have attitude.
“You are totally into him. Face it, Carrie. Accept the truth,” she says.
“Yeah, and what about Dan? You like him,” I say.
“Yes, but I’m not trying to get into a car with him. Come on, we can get a ride with Lissa.” She points to her older sister.
“Okay. But I need to call my mom,” I say, pulling out my phone. I dial my number and my mom answers my phone, sounding very tired.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. It’s Carrie. I was just calling to tell you that we’re all going to Frank’s now.”
“Who’s ‘all’?” my mom asks suspiciously.
“Um, me, Jess, Angie, Lily, Kylee,” I say, making sure that I don’t mention any boys’ names.
“Fine, but I’ll be asleep when you get back. Your father, well, he had a–a bad day.”
She hangs up. I lower my phone from my ear, nervousness weighing heavily in my stomach. “Bad day”. That could mean he had a bad day at work, or that he’s on a bad hangover. Had he hit my sister, Emmy, or my mother? I shudder at the thought of his broad hand hitting my sister’s face. Emmy. She’s so innocent, so young. So forgiving. How could I possibly leave her alone with my father?
“Hey, Carrie! Come on, we’re going to leave without you!” yells Jess from Lissa’s car.
I see Angie’s face and Lily’s face in the backseat. I open the door and crawl in.
“Who were you talking to?” says Lily slyly.
“My mom,” I say shortly, still fretting over my dad and my sister.
“Step on it, Lissa, we don’t want Henry to get there first!” says Jess.
Lissa starts up the car and drives out of the parking lot. I lean my head against the cool window, watching the lights go past and listening to my friends’ murmured conversation. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look over at Jess. Her eyes are soft and worried. I long to go to her, to cry and tell her everything that’s wrong. But I can’t. I must stay strong.
“Are you okay, Carrie?” she asks. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit worn out after the show.”
A believable answer. Lissa pulls up outside of Frank’s and we climb out, waving to other band members in the parking lot. Once we’re inside we scour the restaurant for our friends. Carter waves at me from a booth.
“I think we should join Carter,” says Angie. “He looks like he might have a seizure if we don’t.”
We walk across the restaurant to his booth and slide in. It’s a bit cramped but we can manage. A grumpy looking waitress comes to our table.
“Have you had enough time to figure out what you’re getting?” she asks.
“Yeah. Can I have the cheeseburger with a side of fries?” says Carter.
“Can I have the Caesar salad?” says Angie. The waitress nods at me. I hesitate, knowing exactly what I want but not wanting to say it.
“I’ll be fine with a water,” I say. The waitress looks at me. So does Carter.
“Um, I’ll have the chicken tenders,” says Jess, breaking the silence. I get up and go to the bathroom. I look at my face in the grimy glass, seeing a plump girl. A fat girl. Jess comes in.
“Carrie, are you okay?” she asks. Her brown eyes are concerned.
“I’m fine, Jess. Really, I’m fine.” But instead of leaving the bathroom like I expected her to she came and wrapped her arms around me.
“You’re not fine. I see the hollow look in your eyes. You stopped calling, you stopped texting. You look like a skeleton. You hardly talk in class.” I open my mouth to contradict but Jess keeps going. “You haven’t been sleeping. There are dark circles under your eyes. Carrie, you look sick. And look at this!” she exclaims, pulling the sleeve of my shirt up, revealing my shoulder. Her breath catches as she sees the full bruise. “Oh, Carolina,” she murmurs, her voice soft now. She rests her head on my shoulder as the tears fall from my eyes. Then I see the tears falling from her eyes too.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I say thickly. Her eyes fill again with fire.
“You mean I’m going to let this go? You need help. Your parents should know––” I grab her hand.
“They cannot know. No one can know. Ever,” I say fiercely.
“But Carrie...” she says, faltering under my gaze.
Her eyes are wide and they glisten with more tears. But I said my share. I know she won’t tell anyone. We walk out of the bathroom back to our booth. Carter stands up when he sees us.
“Carrie, are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m great!” I say, and for once, I mean it.

Over The Edge ~ Part 2 {Kyleigh}

The Sixth Installment Of:

Over The Edge

PART TWO

Evening

Kyleigh

Cabin six sits on the rocks along with all the others eating pizza, laughing and talking. It's been a great afternoon and evening, and as always the Sunday dinner of salad and pizza is excellent. Pilgrim Lodge is one of few camps that serve food fit for eating, which is good.

We talk about our family groups, what activities we've signed up for, comparing and contrasting. For once though, Summer is quiet, lost in thought, while the rest of us chatter. She was in my cabin last year, and she was always a talker like me, but I guess she's changed a bit over the past year, everyone has. She's more serious, and looks a lot older than just fourteen. Still, it's nice to have someone you already know in your cabin. Finally, all the pizza is gone, and Dean Beth calls for the chocolate cookies. Everyone rushes forward to grab one, because no one would miss a chance for a PL cookie, myself included. Though I've been here so many times, the routine never gets old and I can't imagine leaving this beautiful paradise at the end of the week.

 

LuCA {Chapter Two}

LuCA {Chapter Two}

(c) Akire Zyll Flickerclaw

"I'm in the back," Jakk called. Mila picked her way through the debris. Scattered bits of metal littered the dirty lab floor. The overhead lights were turned off to conserve power: Jakk was slightly paranoid about power failures. A faint light came from the console lights in the back. Mila climbed over what looked like an ancient Class B rover and landed with a thump in front of the wrecked probe. Jakk was bent over the console, tapping it's surface.

"Oh gosh." Mila stared at the fried rover. "You really did it this time, didn't you?"

Jakk gave a snort of protest. "Well, I was trying to re-calibrate the sensors, when suddenly it went all whacko on me!"

Mila leaned over Jakk, examining the console from over his shoulders. "Did you try rebooting it?"

"Yes, yes," sighed Jakk. "I ran it through a few programs. Nothing."

"So you're saying it's manual," Mila reached into her back pocket and pulled out her yellow work gloves.

"That's why I called you in." Jakk explained.

"Then, let's get started." Mila slipped on her gloves and reached for a hoverpad. She laid the body-sized panel down on the floor, where it hovered a few inches above the ground. She laid down on it gently, the pad dipping slightly to compensate for her added weight.

"Mila, before you go in there, I think you should know something first," Jakk peered over at her.

"Make it quick. I can see lots of outward damage," Mila snapped. Her hands were already itching to rewire the rover.

"Well, the whole reason I was trying to recalibrate Ralph's sensors was--"

"Wait a minute. 'Ralph'?" Mila's attention turned back to Jakk.

"Yeah. Ralph." Jakk shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "From it's initials. R. A. L. F. Rover Alpha Lunar Five."

Mila smirked. "Continue."

"I was recalibrating Ralph's sensors because it picked up a reading from the Other Side."

There was dead silence in the room. Mila slowly slid out from under the rover and sat up. "Did you just say, 'from the Other Side'?"

Jakk's hazel eyes were still fixed on the screen, but Mila could see the tightness in his forearms. "Yes." His voice was so soft, Mila could barely hear it. "It was so faint and quick, I barely caught it. At first, I thought I was imagining things. Been stuck in the lab too long. But then, a few minutes later, there it was again."

Mila got up from the hoverpad and walked over next to Jakk. She pulled up a chair from behind her and sat down next to her friend. "What kind of reading was it?"

Jakk massaged his forehead with the bottom of his palms. "From what I can tell, it was a signal."

"Did you get a lock on the coordinates?"

"I have a general locate."

"Then you know what that means." A grin split Mila's face. She stood up, kicking the chair away with her right foot.

"The last time I saw that look, I spent three days filling out rover regulation forms," Jakk sighed.

Mila's smile got even wider. "Grab your tablet Jakk, we're going on a signal hunt!"

"But breakfast first!" Jakk insisted.

Over The Edge ~ Part 1 {Bryan}

The Fifth Installment Of:

Over The Edge 

Bryan

Every day, I praise God that I am lucky enough to be the director of this incredible camp. Every week and it's campers are different, and yet they're all the same in why they want to be here. They all come because they truly want to be here, they want this week so that they can become better people and come closer to God in the process. It's always inspiring to see how many campers are here every week, and and to hear them talk about why they're here. This week's group is no exception. They're excited, friendly with each other, making new friends, and seeing a group of people who care for one another so easily, makes me think that there really is hope for our broken world.

 

Over The Edge ~ Part 1 {Emily}

The Fourth Installment Of:

Over The Edge

Emily

I love being at camp. It's the one place I can feel truly accepted, where everyone loves each other unconditionally, even though many just meet on their first day of the week. I remember coming here in my teen years and it keeps getting better and better every week I counsel. From the laughter and talk drifting out to my bed on the porch from the cabin, I can tell that my eight girls have bonded quickly.

The bell rings down by the lodge signaling a cabin meeting, and so I stand in the doorway of the cabin, and suddenly I have all of their attention. Summer, the musician, Kyleigh, the leader, Lauren and Jenny, the athletes, Olivia, the artist, Cassidy, the joker and Nicole, the quiet one all turn and smile as I sit down in the rocking chair in the middle of the room to have our first cabin meeting.

Quickly I'm able to tell that it's going to be a good week. Everyone gets along, they're happy, healthy, and full of energy. Nothing can mar the perfection of this week. Nothing at all.

 

Rowan's New Year {Akire Flickerclaw}

{This is a short story that I wrote about a girl named Rowan Mitothin. If any of you have read The Dark is Rising series, this is a fan-fic of the first book. It is quite long, but read it all!}

Rowan's face was pressed against the glass. Her breath made swirls of frost on the window as she stared out into the night that was speckled with snow and stars. She was dressed in a light violet nightgown two sizes too big for her, and a faded blue and white blanket was draped around her small form.

On the other two beds, their occupants deep in slumber, Rowan's shadow was cast. The closer of the two sleepers, a stocky girl with rosy cheeks and blonde curls, let out a sigh and turned over. Rowan gave her a quick glance and turned her attention back to the street below.

And then, it happened.

The sound of soft hoofbeats from the street below echoed into Rowan's ears. She studied the shadows, and out of them came a great horse that looked as if it was made of midnight. The horse's eyes were a strange glowing white, and it's breath was misty in the night. On the horse was a tall figure, dressed in a black cloak. Rowan could just see the outline of a face under the great hood.

She moved silently to the other side of her bed, bent down, and reached under, pulling out a pair of brown leather boots. These she slipped her feet into, then crept quietly out into the hallway, closing the door as softly as she could manage. Behind her, the blonde-haired girl rolled over in her sleep.

Rowan walked down the long hall until she came to the stairs, which she snuck down, trying her hardest not to make any of the old steps creak and give her away. At the bottom of the stairs, she opened a closet, pulled out a dark coat, and slipped this around her shoulders. She crossed swiftly to the door and placed her hand on the knob. She listened for a moment, then turned the knob and stepped out into the night.

~~~~~~~

Snow fell lightly on Rowan's crimson hair, and on the shoulders of her black cloak. The rider had dismounted from his horse, and was busy rummaging through the saddlebag of his steed, which stood patiently while he worked. Rowan stepped carefully through the high banks of snow towards the rider. When she came within a few feet of him, he turned around.

"Ah, my little Rowan." His voice was soft and kind, but it was tinged with an strange accent that Rowan had heard many times before. The rider's hood had fallen back, and she could see his face more clearly now. His hair was a flaming red, and his blue eyes matched hers exactly. "I've brought you a present." He studied her face.

"Thank you, Father," Rowan said with a small sigh. Her father was important, she knew, in ways that no mortal, Old One, or even herself could understand, but every time they met again she felt as if he was taking notes on her performance.

It's not like he can manage this job anyways, she thought to herself irritably. The only reason he let me go is because I'm just a child--and a child is exactly what they need. Even if she's only eleven, and has only trained for six years...

Rowans throat suddenly felt tight, and she swallowed nervously. True, she thought to herself, my place is vitally important, but I feel so overwhelmed! Always having to smile, always having to laugh, and that annoyingly deep connection that she feel to the one I am supposed to betray--at least if Father had taken my place, he would have done what he was supposed to!

"Rowan?" Her father's voice shook her back into reality. "Don't you want your gift? It's New Year's Day, after all."

"Since when have you been bothered with New Year's Day?"

He laughed, but there was no pleasure in the sound. "You are a smart girl, so I shall confess." His bright eyes grew darker, and he smiled a smile that made a shiver run down his daughter's spine. "This is a tool for you to use." Without waiting for her to respond, he ripped open the package. Inside was a pendant in the shape of a bird, carved out of black onyx and hung on a red string.

Rowan recognized the bird instantly. "A rook," she said, then, realizing what that meant, "A messenger of our kind." She looked up at her father. "This is a communicator, is it not?"

"Very good," the rider smiled his smile again. "You know how to use one, remember?" Rowan nodded. "Good," he said, patting her on the head and straightening up. "Then I must be off."

"But Father--," Rowan protested.

The rider turned around. "Look, Rowan, you're doing beautifully. The rest of us are trying our hardest to claim the Signs, but you are our backup plan. He trusts you?"

"Of course."

"Then you have done all you need to. Just stay close to him, and it'll be alright." The rider put his hand on her cheek. "I promise."

"Okay," Rowan breathed, relieved. "Wonderful," said her father. "I must hasten. There are things to do, people to see." He kissed the top of her head, then hoisted himself up onto his horse. Rowan watched as he gave her a cheery salute, and then disappeared into the night like breath on a cold night.