Lights
Chapter One
Tristian
So you might be wondering how cool it would be to have a maid, or maybe your own personal guard. Or maybe you just wonder what it’d be like to never run out of money…or to have your future guaranteed. As you sit there wondering, guess what? I don’t need to wonder. Welcome to the life of Tristian Hightower. Yea, you might have guessed, that’s me.
My father and I live in New York City, Upper East Side Manhattan to be exact. He’s an international envoy to other countries so he does quite a bit of traveling, sometimes I go with him, usually I don’t. I live in an expansive apartment and have a maid, a guard, a butler, and a grandfather that I live with. I go to one of the most expensive private schools in the country, and I have a closet of suits that never ends. Sound like a fun life? It’s not.
I go to a school of all boys and I am 16 years old, zero girls. They are nonexistent in my life and I don’t like it that way. I am made to attend meetings with my father, who expects me to become something great. All he ever sees in me is someone who can continue the family name. I like science and such, and his dream for me is to be a great doctor who attends the most expensive college. I am made to dress, as I said, in suits everyday. And for dinner I have chicken cordon bleu and crème Brule prepared by our chef. Whatever happened to a cheeseburger and an ice cream?
My only real friend is my grandfather who is slowly slipping away into craziness.
Not to mention that my father refuses to tell me who my mother is and where she ended up. Oh, yes…my life looks great on the outside. Money, a great education, an amazing car, and a maid to make my bed. But hey, if you even care to, look a little deeper and you’ll see that my family is falling apart at the seams.
The sights, the smells, the sounds! I walked through a crowd of people who were laughing and dancing. They all wore exotic clothes and the colors were so vivid that they seemed to all bleed together. Music pulsed through my ears in a sound I’d never heard before, making me want to join along with the people’s dancing.
The smell of fresh grass, bodies, animals, and delicious foods and spices drifted through the air. I was confused on whether I liked the scent or not.
A man approached me, his skin was the color of ebony and he was shirtless. He danced through the car, weaving in and out of it like a cat.
“Mia,” he said in a voice that oozed affection, seduction almost, “Mia, the festival has only begun…why are you just standing here. Dance!” As he said this he started to move. His movements were wonderful, wild and aggressive. I looked at him and found that I too had the urge to move like that. Wait…I don’t dance, why do I feel like this? Who am I anyway? I ignored my will to stand still and let the music take me, a swayed back and forth and spun in a circle laughing. My blonde hair flew out in front of me as the man with ebony skin gripped my waist, twirling me round and round till I felt as if time itself never existed. I wanted to stay here in this moment with him and laugh my heartache away.
“Mia,” he whispered in my ear. And as I stopped spinning, a feeling of intense claustrophobia came over me. The crowd seemed to shrink smaller and smaller until I felt I was drowning in the noise, the intense feelings, and the smells.
“No!” I yelled
I awoke, sweat pouring down my face and onto my silken sheets. I was me again, Tristian. Not some strange girl in another land, another world perhaps. I looked around at my room wondering what time it possibly could be. As soon as I thought this, my maid, Carmen, knocked on my door.
“Come in.” I said. She entered and tried not to look at me, bare-chested and breath heaving in bed.
“Sorry sir, my your father has requested that I wake you. He is to be meeting with Sir Roderick today from the college and would like you to accompany him. I am to set out your new suit.” Here we are, back to the suits again. I look forward to the day when I am allowed to wear jeans and a t-shirt.
“Not necessary Carmen. Though I thank you for your help. I am quite capable of retrieving my own clothes from my closet. Tell my father I will be out in a minute.”
“As you say Mr. Tristian.” She opened my heavy shades, unveiling a beautiful view of the city. She then walked out the door, not doubt to tell my father that I would not let her pick out my clothes.
I got out of my bed, eager to leave my sweat laden sheets. One look in my closet, and I almost wished Carmen had gotten my clothes. Suits, suits, dress pants, a button down shirt. That’s all that existed in there. No basketball shorts, no bathing suits, no ripped jeans, or baseball hats. I am to be the epitome of professional, businesslike, and proper even at 16. What a life.
After dressing in my new suit, which I must say looked exactly like all the others to me, I wandered sleepily to my bathroom to brush my teeth. Looking in the mirror cheered me up considerably though, for I relished in the idea of how much I did not look like my father. I studied my face, trying to scout out any new pimples or missed shaving spots. My head all the sudden grew considerably hot and my throat closed until I felt I was choking. I grasped the side of the sink trying to figure what was wrong. All the sudden a mental picture smashed into my thoughts. It felt as if I knife slashed through my mind and I groaned in agony. The picture was of a beautiful, blonde girl with almond eyes and full lips. She herself was looking in the mirror herself, tears ran down her face as she looked as if she was concentrating, trying to keep something away.
“Help me…” she gasped, and then she fell to the floor.
The picture disappeared as my throat opened back up again and my pressure in my head subsided. What had just happened to me? I considered running to tell my father, but he was never in the mood for things like this. When I was younger and afraid of monsters under my bed, he would tell me to shut my mouth, and be a man. Somehow I don’t think he would respond any different to this either. He’d probably just say I was going through puberty, though I knew that wasn’t it for I had gone through puberty at 14. Not that my father would know that.
“Oh, well” I thought, “It probably was caused by me being so tired this morning. Maybe it was one of those dreams people say they have when they are awake.”
I shook my head in confusion and picked up my silver toothbrush.
“As I have said before Mr. Richardson, if you consider re constructing the University- or even perhaps expanding it, you could guarantee a higher revenue of money coming in. Not to mention that you’ll ensure that the wealthy of other countries will be forced to send their children to your school in Lou that there is no one to compete with you.”
My father talked to the President of the University, trying his best to sway him to see his sides. It was called a meeting, but the truth is that it’s really a debate, a competition to see who has the most reason on their side. My father always wins, hence us being so wealthy.
“Mr. Hightower I see your ideas and they seem excellent. I too have been dreaming of the day when this University can become strictly international and can offer services that no other school can. But I am afraid, as I’ve said before, that the University does not have the funds or the backing to do this. That is the end of it, we are not financially in the right position.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I understand. But that is where I come in. Our company has would like to back you with a percentage of the profits going to them and with half of the reimbursement over time. This University is for the better good, we would like to see all benefit from this.” That’s crap; my father only cares about his benefit. Not his companies and certainly not the “better good.”
I am only here to promote my father, to make him look like “a family man.” Plus, he wants me to go to this college one day; so meeting the President is crucial.
I am starting to get sick of this conversation. I’ve just heard it so many times. So I start to look around the room. It’s a sickly beige. You know that beige they paint office rooms to try to make them look more relaxing but really make you feel like your dizzy and lifeless? Yea, that was the color of the room.
There was a small table between my father and Mr. Richardson with all their papers spread out on it. I sat in the back of the room on a rock of a chair listening. I was supposed to maintain an erect posture with my head held high, you know, to look professional just like my father. But after an hour I was starting to slouch.
I’m sure most kids never look forward to school, but not me. I can’t wait until the holiday break ends. Not that I like that prison of a private school, but at least I’m not expected to follow my father around to meetings and try to “learn” from him. He is the last person I want to learn from.
My mind starts to wander after another hour. How long does my father expect me to sit here? But then, it happens again! All the sudden she’s back…that girl, that strange place. But it’s not her, or maybe it is her…but I am her. I am in her and I am walking through a field of yellow flowers, up a hill covered in the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. I am running and laughing as my blue skirt flies out behind me.
I get to the top of the hill and look down. Why, its not a hill at all, it’s a cliff! It’s a sheer drop to the bottom where a bright blue expanse of water spreads out in front of me. It is beautiful and terrifying. And though I am in this strange person’s body, my own fear of heights overtakes me. I stumble back in fear.
“Mia, Mia what is wrong?” I turn to see the ebony man running up behind me. He is shirtless still, with loose pants. His voice is riddled with a halting accent, of which I did not notice before. His voice would be more suited to be uttering Afrikaans words than English.
“ I don’t know,” I find myself saying. Wait, I didn’t mean to say that! “ I just feel sick almost. The height of the cliff scares me.”
“Scares you girly? Naww, we been here more than many times. You are a lion, you never scare!” He grins and his straight white teeth gleam against his dark skin.
“ I know, I am not in the least bit afraid of this cliff normally. But today, I feel paralyzed with fear.” I try to back away from the cliff even more. But the body I am defies me and fights to remain put. The ebony man walks toward me and grips my waist pulling me into him until I can smell him. He smells of spices and earth.
“You know whatcha’ do when you startin to feel paralyzed, right? You make sure it don’t overtake ya. You break it before it grips you too tight. Right my lady?” The body I am in throws the man a wicked grin.
“Caleb, I never said I was chickening out. You know I jumped even before you did.” Jump? Jump!? What does this person mean by jump? I turn and I am no longer in control of what this girl does. She slips out of her beautiful skirt, and I see that I am wearing a bathing suit underneath. “Catch me if you can!” I wink at the ebony man, or now that I know, Caleb. And I dive, straight off the cliff.
I fall for hours, pointing straight down into the clear blue waters. I see that the ocean is perfectly clear where I have jumped with no rocks or boats, so I should be okay as long as I don’t land wrong and break my neck. But hey, this girl said she had jumped before, she must know how to do this.
The girl, or Mia I guess, screams at the top of her lungs, whooping with the sheer joy and adrenaline of falling through mid air. I am screaming inside, my stomach is in my throat and I think I am going to disinagrate into nothing.
Suddenly the transparent water is there to meet me and with hands still pointed into a dive position, I slice into the water like a knife, curving up just as I start to plunge too deep. The impact scares me though. I’ve landed perfect, but the slap of the water stings my skin, cutting into me and making my mind screech even more.
And suddenly all goes black. “I’m dead,” I think. I know it. I am dead. I died from the impact. It’s only after I open my eyes that I realize that I am still yelling. I stop after a moment, after it has all set it. I feel the hard surface of the chair under me; I no longer smell clear air and salt water but the anti bacterial smell of an office building. The colors of the world I have left disappear and I am left staring at the shocked face of Mr. Robinson and the horrific expression on my father’s face.
“Are you quite alright lad?” Mr. Robinson asks in his English accent. My face is hot and I am sure very red. I clear my throat.
“ Yes, quite sir. I apologize, I have just recently recovered from being sick and I guess I am not entirely over it. If you will excuse me while I go get some water, I shall leave you and my father to business. Again I am deeply sorry.” I nod my head, and leave the room, walking at a rapid walk to the building’s lobby. My father is going to kill me, but at least the President of the University doesn’t think I am a complete idiot. I laugh to myself. My father isn’t the only one who can pull bullcrap.
Chapter 2
Mia
I live in an undiscovered paradise. A slice of heaven as some might say. And until now, I have believed them. You see, Simon’s Town is right outside of Cape Town in South Africa. When you hear that I live in Africa you may think of poverty, of starvation, of savages. But think again,
In 1806 the English seized South Africa and much of their culture influenced it. Many of the natives here married into the English as well as the Dutch, which has resulted in such a varied people. The government today is held by a democracy but it is very organized and modern, though this is nothing compared with its beauty. It is something I never tire of experiencing.
I have grown up here, in Simon’s Town South Africa. It is my home and I love it. I am told by my Auntie Reesa that I was born in America long ago…16 years to be exact. Born of a mother named Lucy and a father named Bill. Such uninteresting names, so devoid of originality. My father and mother fell out of love I assume, for she left him to come live with my Aunt in South Africa when I was one. Not but a year later she was killed in an airplane accident delivering Bibles to tribes in the North.
I’ve never questioned this story, and since I was young my Aunt has always been my mother. She loves me and puts up with a lot. I am a trustworthy and responsible girl, but my nature is adventurous and risk taking and she does not always agree with this…but I do try to obey her as much as possible.
I have fallen in love with a boy as well. His name is Caleb and he is South African. He is as black as night and as beautiful as the land we call home. We taste life together and make every moment count. South Africa is the very essence of freedom, and everyday I wake with the hope of a new adventure. I have so much energy I fear I shall burst out of my skin. I should be lovesick with life. I should be drunk off laughter. I should be as free as the beautiful birds that fly through the fresh African air. Should.
So why do I feel so alone? Why do I feel like a part of me is missing? Like I am missing something I should know…I have never felt this way before and it is as foreign to me as my birthplace, America. Something is changing within me. My Aunt has always said I have a gift to sense these things, but I brushed it off as one of her old superstitious tales. But a new person is stirring inside of me, and I am so very frightened of her.
The blue water stung my skin, almost ripping my bathing suit from my body. I arched my back and I went from shooting straight to the ocean floor to all the sudden shooting toward the bright air again. I surfaced, gasping for breathe and laughing with mirth. Caleb splashed beside me, and I could see his dark form sliding under the surface, so very accustomed to the shock and sting of the water.
The adrenaline rush was miraculous, though I had experienced plenty of times before. This time was different though. I did not feel myself today. I had been happy all the way up the cliff but once I had reached the top, I was gripped with a fear so heavy that I felt I would melt into water just looking at the drop. I couldn’t force my legs to move and I felt disoriented, like I was someone outside of my body, watching.
These were the type of things I am talking about. The past few months I have these strange spells where all the sudden out of the blue, I am ready to vomit. Or my head hurts, or I feel a feeling I have never felt before. Feelings such as the fear of heights. I am not in the least afraid of heights for I have been cliff jumping since I was eight. So how can I explain the fright that took over me as I looked down upon the water I was to leap into? I cannot.
Not to mention I have dreams, horrid awful dreams of someone. I cannot say whom but he knows me and yet does not at the same time. He is trapped, I do not know how. He is in a cage and cannot be freed and needs my help. And at the same time I know I need him. I have this dream every night and have no idea what it means. I have been meaning to ask my Aunt, but she has been so busy lately that the time has never presented itself. I make a note to myself to ask her tonight.
“Mia, you were wonderful!” Caleb calls pumping his fist in the air. “ I forgot how it feels to fly.” He says, whooping with joy.
I grin as I start to swim for the beach. Starvation eats at my belly and I am suddenly ravenous for a Gatsby, a warm baguette filled with meat, salad, and cheese.
“Though I would jump at the chance to do that again, my stomach calls louder than cliff jumping. Lets go see Fenyang.” Caleb nods at the mention of our favorite street vendor and dives under the water. I feel his fingers at my toes and giggle as he tries to tickle me.
“Stop, stop! I can’t swim and fight you off at once!” I laugh, half drowning on the salty water as I try to swim to shore and tickle him back. Caleb stops in amusement and helps me up out of the water, saving me from a most certain drowning
With the excitement of the cliff jumping still running through me, I dismiss all unpleasant thoughts of my dreams from my mind and decide to just enjoy my beautiful afternoon. The day is mine.
Chapter 3
Isaura
I am Greek and I live on a small place called Paxos Island. I am fifteen years old and live with my grandmother, Nene. My name is Isaura and I am different. When I say different I don't mean weird or strange. I mean special. I have a gift that no one knows about except my grandmother. My grandmother has gifts too, and so we live in isolation while my grandmother teaches me how to use my abilities.
I know you may think that living on a Grecian Island would be paradise. But it's not. Yes, it is beautiful. But I am alone. I do not go to school, as I am educated at home by my grandmother. This would be okay if I was allowed to have friends but because of my oddities, I am allowed association with no one. I realize this is just for my safety but it does not matter. I am fifteen years old and have no life. My last best friend was when I was eight years old and I've never even liked a boy, never mind had a boyfriend.
It is a sorry excuse for a life. And on top of that, I am a freak. I can do strange things no one else can do, and I would give my gift up if only I could lead a normal life. I am alone in this world, horribly alone. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope that I will find others like me. That is why I've started to search.
Everyday after my studies, I spend hours on the computer scanning stories from around the world of people who seem to have gifts such as mine. A young man mysteriously saves a girl who is trapped on skyscraper. A girl survives an explosion that seems impossible. Stories such as this. I have put together a file of all the potential gifted people around the world. I have found ways to contact some of them and I will finally have friends. I will no longer be alone. But shhh, don't tell. My grandmother would be furious if she knew.
________________________________________________________________________
"Concentrate. Feel the particles in the air. Ask them to lift you." I do as she tells me, beads of sweat soaking my tanned skin. "I see the wind swirling. It's working. Now let it lift you over the water." This is a simple exercise. I have done it so many times, but lately it has been harder for me. Maybe my concentration has been weakened. But I think it is more boredom. I have done every day since I was eight years old.
I feel the air swirling, it lifts me up and I smile as my feet leave the ground. I will it to move me toward the water and then it is easy. I don't even have to think about it. It look out over the bay of water and I look up at the cliffs that circled the closed off section of the coast. I tentatively put my foot down on the water, willing it to hold me. I infused the sea under me with air bubbles which supported my foot as I put my weight down
Tristian
So you might be wondering how cool it would be to have a maid, or maybe your own personal guard. Or maybe you just wonder what it’d be like to never run out of money…or to have your future guaranteed. As you sit there wondering, guess what? I don’t need to wonder. Welcome to the life of Tristian Hightower. Yea, you might have guessed, that’s me.
My father and I live in New York City, Upper East Side Manhattan to be exact. He’s an international envoy to other countries so he does quite a bit of traveling, sometimes I go with him, usually I don’t. I live in an expansive apartment and have a maid, a guard, a butler, and a grandfather that I live with. I go to one of the most expensive private schools in the country, and I have a closet of suits that never ends. Sound like a fun life? It’s not.
I go to a school of all boys and I am 16 years old, zero girls. They are nonexistent in my life and I don’t like it that way. I am made to attend meetings with my father, who expects me to become something great. All he ever sees in me is someone who can continue the family name. I like science and such, and his dream for me is to be a great doctor who attends the most expensive college. I am made to dress, as I said, in suits everyday. And for dinner I have chicken cordon bleu and crème Brule prepared by our chef. Whatever happened to a cheeseburger and an ice cream?
My only real friend is my grandfather who is slowly slipping away into craziness.
Not to mention that my father refuses to tell me who my mother is and where she ended up. Oh, yes…my life looks great on the outside. Money, a great education, an amazing car, and a maid to make my bed. But hey, if you even care to, look a little deeper and you’ll see that my family is falling apart at the seams.
The sights, the smells, the sounds! I walked through a crowd of people who were laughing and dancing. They all wore exotic clothes and the colors were so vivid that they seemed to all bleed together. Music pulsed through my ears in a sound I’d never heard before, making me want to join along with the people’s dancing.
The smell of fresh grass, bodies, animals, and delicious foods and spices drifted through the air. I was confused on whether I liked the scent or not.
A man approached me, his skin was the color of ebony and he was shirtless. He danced through the car, weaving in and out of it like a cat.
“Mia,” he said in a voice that oozed affection, seduction almost, “Mia, the festival has only begun…why are you just standing here. Dance!” As he said this he started to move. His movements were wonderful, wild and aggressive. I looked at him and found that I too had the urge to move like that. Wait…I don’t dance, why do I feel like this? Who am I anyway? I ignored my will to stand still and let the music take me, a swayed back and forth and spun in a circle laughing. My blonde hair flew out in front of me as the man with ebony skin gripped my waist, twirling me round and round till I felt as if time itself never existed. I wanted to stay here in this moment with him and laugh my heartache away.
“Mia,” he whispered in my ear. And as I stopped spinning, a feeling of intense claustrophobia came over me. The crowd seemed to shrink smaller and smaller until I felt I was drowning in the noise, the intense feelings, and the smells.
“No!” I yelled
I awoke, sweat pouring down my face and onto my silken sheets. I was me again, Tristian. Not some strange girl in another land, another world perhaps. I looked around at my room wondering what time it possibly could be. As soon as I thought this, my maid, Carmen, knocked on my door.
“Come in.” I said. She entered and tried not to look at me, bare-chested and breath heaving in bed.
“Sorry sir, my your father has requested that I wake you. He is to be meeting with Sir Roderick today from the college and would like you to accompany him. I am to set out your new suit.” Here we are, back to the suits again. I look forward to the day when I am allowed to wear jeans and a t-shirt.
“Not necessary Carmen. Though I thank you for your help. I am quite capable of retrieving my own clothes from my closet. Tell my father I will be out in a minute.”
“As you say Mr. Tristian.” She opened my heavy shades, unveiling a beautiful view of the city. She then walked out the door, not doubt to tell my father that I would not let her pick out my clothes.
I got out of my bed, eager to leave my sweat laden sheets. One look in my closet, and I almost wished Carmen had gotten my clothes. Suits, suits, dress pants, a button down shirt. That’s all that existed in there. No basketball shorts, no bathing suits, no ripped jeans, or baseball hats. I am to be the epitome of professional, businesslike, and proper even at 16. What a life.
After dressing in my new suit, which I must say looked exactly like all the others to me, I wandered sleepily to my bathroom to brush my teeth. Looking in the mirror cheered me up considerably though, for I relished in the idea of how much I did not look like my father. I studied my face, trying to scout out any new pimples or missed shaving spots. My head all the sudden grew considerably hot and my throat closed until I felt I was choking. I grasped the side of the sink trying to figure what was wrong. All the sudden a mental picture smashed into my thoughts. It felt as if I knife slashed through my mind and I groaned in agony. The picture was of a beautiful, blonde girl with almond eyes and full lips. She herself was looking in the mirror herself, tears ran down her face as she looked as if she was concentrating, trying to keep something away.
“Help me…” she gasped, and then she fell to the floor.
The picture disappeared as my throat opened back up again and my pressure in my head subsided. What had just happened to me? I considered running to tell my father, but he was never in the mood for things like this. When I was younger and afraid of monsters under my bed, he would tell me to shut my mouth, and be a man. Somehow I don’t think he would respond any different to this either. He’d probably just say I was going through puberty, though I knew that wasn’t it for I had gone through puberty at 14. Not that my father would know that.
“Oh, well” I thought, “It probably was caused by me being so tired this morning. Maybe it was one of those dreams people say they have when they are awake.”
I shook my head in confusion and picked up my silver toothbrush.
“As I have said before Mr. Richardson, if you consider re constructing the University- or even perhaps expanding it, you could guarantee a higher revenue of money coming in. Not to mention that you’ll ensure that the wealthy of other countries will be forced to send their children to your school in Lou that there is no one to compete with you.”
My father talked to the President of the University, trying his best to sway him to see his sides. It was called a meeting, but the truth is that it’s really a debate, a competition to see who has the most reason on their side. My father always wins, hence us being so wealthy.
“Mr. Hightower I see your ideas and they seem excellent. I too have been dreaming of the day when this University can become strictly international and can offer services that no other school can. But I am afraid, as I’ve said before, that the University does not have the funds or the backing to do this. That is the end of it, we are not financially in the right position.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I understand. But that is where I come in. Our company has would like to back you with a percentage of the profits going to them and with half of the reimbursement over time. This University is for the better good, we would like to see all benefit from this.” That’s crap; my father only cares about his benefit. Not his companies and certainly not the “better good.”
I am only here to promote my father, to make him look like “a family man.” Plus, he wants me to go to this college one day; so meeting the President is crucial.
I am starting to get sick of this conversation. I’ve just heard it so many times. So I start to look around the room. It’s a sickly beige. You know that beige they paint office rooms to try to make them look more relaxing but really make you feel like your dizzy and lifeless? Yea, that was the color of the room.
There was a small table between my father and Mr. Richardson with all their papers spread out on it. I sat in the back of the room on a rock of a chair listening. I was supposed to maintain an erect posture with my head held high, you know, to look professional just like my father. But after an hour I was starting to slouch.
I’m sure most kids never look forward to school, but not me. I can’t wait until the holiday break ends. Not that I like that prison of a private school, but at least I’m not expected to follow my father around to meetings and try to “learn” from him. He is the last person I want to learn from.
My mind starts to wander after another hour. How long does my father expect me to sit here? But then, it happens again! All the sudden she’s back…that girl, that strange place. But it’s not her, or maybe it is her…but I am her. I am in her and I am walking through a field of yellow flowers, up a hill covered in the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. I am running and laughing as my blue skirt flies out behind me.
I get to the top of the hill and look down. Why, its not a hill at all, it’s a cliff! It’s a sheer drop to the bottom where a bright blue expanse of water spreads out in front of me. It is beautiful and terrifying. And though I am in this strange person’s body, my own fear of heights overtakes me. I stumble back in fear.
“Mia, Mia what is wrong?” I turn to see the ebony man running up behind me. He is shirtless still, with loose pants. His voice is riddled with a halting accent, of which I did not notice before. His voice would be more suited to be uttering Afrikaans words than English.
“ I don’t know,” I find myself saying. Wait, I didn’t mean to say that! “ I just feel sick almost. The height of the cliff scares me.”
“Scares you girly? Naww, we been here more than many times. You are a lion, you never scare!” He grins and his straight white teeth gleam against his dark skin.
“ I know, I am not in the least bit afraid of this cliff normally. But today, I feel paralyzed with fear.” I try to back away from the cliff even more. But the body I am defies me and fights to remain put. The ebony man walks toward me and grips my waist pulling me into him until I can smell him. He smells of spices and earth.
“You know whatcha’ do when you startin to feel paralyzed, right? You make sure it don’t overtake ya. You break it before it grips you too tight. Right my lady?” The body I am in throws the man a wicked grin.
“Caleb, I never said I was chickening out. You know I jumped even before you did.” Jump? Jump!? What does this person mean by jump? I turn and I am no longer in control of what this girl does. She slips out of her beautiful skirt, and I see that I am wearing a bathing suit underneath. “Catch me if you can!” I wink at the ebony man, or now that I know, Caleb. And I dive, straight off the cliff.
I fall for hours, pointing straight down into the clear blue waters. I see that the ocean is perfectly clear where I have jumped with no rocks or boats, so I should be okay as long as I don’t land wrong and break my neck. But hey, this girl said she had jumped before, she must know how to do this.
The girl, or Mia I guess, screams at the top of her lungs, whooping with the sheer joy and adrenaline of falling through mid air. I am screaming inside, my stomach is in my throat and I think I am going to disinagrate into nothing.
Suddenly the transparent water is there to meet me and with hands still pointed into a dive position, I slice into the water like a knife, curving up just as I start to plunge too deep. The impact scares me though. I’ve landed perfect, but the slap of the water stings my skin, cutting into me and making my mind screech even more.
And suddenly all goes black. “I’m dead,” I think. I know it. I am dead. I died from the impact. It’s only after I open my eyes that I realize that I am still yelling. I stop after a moment, after it has all set it. I feel the hard surface of the chair under me; I no longer smell clear air and salt water but the anti bacterial smell of an office building. The colors of the world I have left disappear and I am left staring at the shocked face of Mr. Robinson and the horrific expression on my father’s face.
“Are you quite alright lad?” Mr. Robinson asks in his English accent. My face is hot and I am sure very red. I clear my throat.
“ Yes, quite sir. I apologize, I have just recently recovered from being sick and I guess I am not entirely over it. If you will excuse me while I go get some water, I shall leave you and my father to business. Again I am deeply sorry.” I nod my head, and leave the room, walking at a rapid walk to the building’s lobby. My father is going to kill me, but at least the President of the University doesn’t think I am a complete idiot. I laugh to myself. My father isn’t the only one who can pull bullcrap.
Chapter 2
Mia
I live in an undiscovered paradise. A slice of heaven as some might say. And until now, I have believed them. You see, Simon’s Town is right outside of Cape Town in South Africa. When you hear that I live in Africa you may think of poverty, of starvation, of savages. But think again,
In 1806 the English seized South Africa and much of their culture influenced it. Many of the natives here married into the English as well as the Dutch, which has resulted in such a varied people. The government today is held by a democracy but it is very organized and modern, though this is nothing compared with its beauty. It is something I never tire of experiencing.
I have grown up here, in Simon’s Town South Africa. It is my home and I love it. I am told by my Auntie Reesa that I was born in America long ago…16 years to be exact. Born of a mother named Lucy and a father named Bill. Such uninteresting names, so devoid of originality. My father and mother fell out of love I assume, for she left him to come live with my Aunt in South Africa when I was one. Not but a year later she was killed in an airplane accident delivering Bibles to tribes in the North.
I’ve never questioned this story, and since I was young my Aunt has always been my mother. She loves me and puts up with a lot. I am a trustworthy and responsible girl, but my nature is adventurous and risk taking and she does not always agree with this…but I do try to obey her as much as possible.
I have fallen in love with a boy as well. His name is Caleb and he is South African. He is as black as night and as beautiful as the land we call home. We taste life together and make every moment count. South Africa is the very essence of freedom, and everyday I wake with the hope of a new adventure. I have so much energy I fear I shall burst out of my skin. I should be lovesick with life. I should be drunk off laughter. I should be as free as the beautiful birds that fly through the fresh African air. Should.
So why do I feel so alone? Why do I feel like a part of me is missing? Like I am missing something I should know…I have never felt this way before and it is as foreign to me as my birthplace, America. Something is changing within me. My Aunt has always said I have a gift to sense these things, but I brushed it off as one of her old superstitious tales. But a new person is stirring inside of me, and I am so very frightened of her.
The blue water stung my skin, almost ripping my bathing suit from my body. I arched my back and I went from shooting straight to the ocean floor to all the sudden shooting toward the bright air again. I surfaced, gasping for breathe and laughing with mirth. Caleb splashed beside me, and I could see his dark form sliding under the surface, so very accustomed to the shock and sting of the water.
The adrenaline rush was miraculous, though I had experienced plenty of times before. This time was different though. I did not feel myself today. I had been happy all the way up the cliff but once I had reached the top, I was gripped with a fear so heavy that I felt I would melt into water just looking at the drop. I couldn’t force my legs to move and I felt disoriented, like I was someone outside of my body, watching.
These were the type of things I am talking about. The past few months I have these strange spells where all the sudden out of the blue, I am ready to vomit. Or my head hurts, or I feel a feeling I have never felt before. Feelings such as the fear of heights. I am not in the least afraid of heights for I have been cliff jumping since I was eight. So how can I explain the fright that took over me as I looked down upon the water I was to leap into? I cannot.
Not to mention I have dreams, horrid awful dreams of someone. I cannot say whom but he knows me and yet does not at the same time. He is trapped, I do not know how. He is in a cage and cannot be freed and needs my help. And at the same time I know I need him. I have this dream every night and have no idea what it means. I have been meaning to ask my Aunt, but she has been so busy lately that the time has never presented itself. I make a note to myself to ask her tonight.
“Mia, you were wonderful!” Caleb calls pumping his fist in the air. “ I forgot how it feels to fly.” He says, whooping with joy.
I grin as I start to swim for the beach. Starvation eats at my belly and I am suddenly ravenous for a Gatsby, a warm baguette filled with meat, salad, and cheese.
“Though I would jump at the chance to do that again, my stomach calls louder than cliff jumping. Lets go see Fenyang.” Caleb nods at the mention of our favorite street vendor and dives under the water. I feel his fingers at my toes and giggle as he tries to tickle me.
“Stop, stop! I can’t swim and fight you off at once!” I laugh, half drowning on the salty water as I try to swim to shore and tickle him back. Caleb stops in amusement and helps me up out of the water, saving me from a most certain drowning
With the excitement of the cliff jumping still running through me, I dismiss all unpleasant thoughts of my dreams from my mind and decide to just enjoy my beautiful afternoon. The day is mine.
Chapter 3
Isaura
I am Greek and I live on a small place called Paxos Island. I am fifteen years old and live with my grandmother, Nene. My name is Isaura and I am different. When I say different I don't mean weird or strange. I mean special. I have a gift that no one knows about except my grandmother. My grandmother has gifts too, and so we live in isolation while my grandmother teaches me how to use my abilities.
I know you may think that living on a Grecian Island would be paradise. But it's not. Yes, it is beautiful. But I am alone. I do not go to school, as I am educated at home by my grandmother. This would be okay if I was allowed to have friends but because of my oddities, I am allowed association with no one. I realize this is just for my safety but it does not matter. I am fifteen years old and have no life. My last best friend was when I was eight years old and I've never even liked a boy, never mind had a boyfriend.
It is a sorry excuse for a life. And on top of that, I am a freak. I can do strange things no one else can do, and I would give my gift up if only I could lead a normal life. I am alone in this world, horribly alone. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope that I will find others like me. That is why I've started to search.
Everyday after my studies, I spend hours on the computer scanning stories from around the world of people who seem to have gifts such as mine. A young man mysteriously saves a girl who is trapped on skyscraper. A girl survives an explosion that seems impossible. Stories such as this. I have put together a file of all the potential gifted people around the world. I have found ways to contact some of them and I will finally have friends. I will no longer be alone. But shhh, don't tell. My grandmother would be furious if she knew.
________________________________________________________________________
"Concentrate. Feel the particles in the air. Ask them to lift you." I do as she tells me, beads of sweat soaking my tanned skin. "I see the wind swirling. It's working. Now let it lift you over the water." This is a simple exercise. I have done it so many times, but lately it has been harder for me. Maybe my concentration has been weakened. But I think it is more boredom. I have done every day since I was eight years old.
I feel the air swirling, it lifts me up and I smile as my feet leave the ground. I will it to move me toward the water and then it is easy. I don't even have to think about it. It look out over the bay of water and I look up at the cliffs that circled the closed off section of the coast. I tentatively put my foot down on the water, willing it to hold me. I infused the sea under me with air bubbles which supported my foot as I put my weight down
