Chapter One
Emilyn hunched over the worn wood desktop, tracing invisible patterns on it with one finger as he tried to ignore his splitting headache. He glanced up from his desk, over at the rows of children, heads bent over their books. Emilyn’s desk was in the very back of the room, by the dusty shelves of unused encyclopedias. He had picked it himself, for that very reason.
He looked out the window, letting the pale December sunshine warm his face; watching the bare tree limbs toss against the washed-out color of the sky.
Emilyn reached into his pocket for the hundredth time that morning, holding his breath until his fingers collided with the cool, smooth surface of his most precious possession. He ran his thumb over the one jagged line in the stone’s otherwise flawless surface.
The wind was picking up, scattering the dead leaves in every direction. The branches on the trees whipped frantically through the air.
Ms. David lips were moving, but her voice was drowned out by the roaring in Emilyn’s ears as his headache intensified.
He grimaced as pain shot through his stomach, curling his hands into fists as the ache in his abdomen increased. Voices screamed in agony; harsh, cruel laughter grated against his ears. Voices began to whisper in his head, growing louder and louder as the seconds ticked past. Emilyn looked around the classroom, but no one else seemed to hear the voices. “…Prophecy…..” they hissed, a dry crackle of dead leaves. “….terrible…………..choices...…fa-” The last word was drowned out by a long, blood-curdling scream.
Then the clamor was suddenly, blessedly silent. Emily realized he was doubled over, clutching his throbbing head in his hands. Blushing, he raised his head. The entire class had turned around in their seats, staring at him. “Uh…”
Ms. David took a step towards him. “Emilyn, are you-“
The door to the school crashed open against the wall, and a girl blew into the room. She stumbled and fell, sprawling across the aisle. Her long dark hair was tousled, her legs shockingly slender and white. The curtain of hair almost hid her face, but Emilyn could see her eyes. One was a wild, stormy grey, dark with fear. The other was a bewitching green, startlingly bright and fearless.
Sincerely,
A Writer
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