I long for the sensation of flight through the forest. The wind in my face, the rustling of the leaves, the rush of adrenaline, and being with my friends. I can't help but wonder what it feels like to fly way up in the air in the clouds with wings like a fairy and then swooping down and skimming across a lake and, knowing me, possibly hitting face-first into a tree. Then we fly down to the forest floor and rest under a large oak tree and eat food.
“Kal! Kal!” My teacher, Mrs. Mackey calls, forcing me back into reality. My daydreams seem so real. This isn't exactly normal for kids my age. No one really dreams about stuff like that, except for kids and last time I checked, I’m not a kid. I’m a seventeen-year-old senior in high school, who’s a food and fairy loving dude.
“Huh? What?” I say, still dazed. I'm still trying to reel my mind back from that wildly realistic daydream.
“Were you paying attention to anything I was saying? Anything at all?” She says, with her hands on her hips looking rather annoyed. On the board behind her are notes about how to find the tangents of circles. I really hate math. It seems like it's written in a completely different language. All the lines and numbers don’t make much sense. The dusty cogs in my head start turning for an answer. My first reaction is to say something idiotic.
“Uh, something about tangents and circles,” I say, with a bit of humor in my voice and a slight smile. Half the class laughs a little bit. I have a sharp wit and can make humor out of almost anything, except serious situations. I know when to not be joking around in serious situations. Plus, I like to joke around in my math class to prevent it from being so serious because of Mrs. Mackey and that has landed me a few detentions. But only a few.
Mrs. Mackey sighs and shakes her head, probably ashamed at my idiotic remark. Either that or she’s just sick of my shenanigans. Probably both.
“At least you know what the lesson is about,” she sighs. “Now exactly how do you find the tangent of a circle?” she demands.
I stare at her blankly. The metaphorical dusty cogs in my brain are once again turning, trying to not sound stupid. Like I say, I just can’t understand math. I look at the notes and take a random guess.
“Uhhh, I think it has something to do with right triangles in circles,” I say, with a shrug and, once again, feeling like an idiot. Way to go me. Way to go. The class laughs a bit more.
Mrs. Mackey sighs at my even dumber response. She turns around and continues teaching. I sigh a bit. I didn’t even notice that I'm holding my breath.
I bring out my notebook and begin to doodle. I tend to do that a lot. I prefer Celtic designs and I’ve been working on mastering the style for almost two months. Then I draw strange little symbols around it. They almost look like a written language from some strange, magical land.
I look up periodically, hoping that I look like I’m taking notes. But in reality, I’m not, because math sucks.
The damn bell finally rings and I bolt out of there quickly. I run to meet Roxanne. She’s usually waiting for me in the same spot every day. Roxanne is the smartest, prettiest, most popular girl in school, who just so happens to be my best friend since we were babies. We practically grew up together.
“Roxanne!!” I call.
She looks in my direction.
“Hey Kallan!” she says.
Kallan is my full name. I have told her many times over the past fourteen years to call me Kal. Then again, she's been telling me to call her Roxy for the same amount of time. It's sort of a running joke now.
“Have you heard?” she asks.
“Heard what?” I ask in reply.
“About someone,” she says vaguely while smiling a little bit.
“What about that someone?” I ask.
“A new kid is coming to our school,” she says. “He was supposed to come today, but he got sick and I heard that it was bad. He's in my fifth-period class. We’re going to make him a ‘get well’ card.”
“Do you know what his name is?” I ask.
“Hametsu Yamashi,” she reports. “Apparently he has a weak immune system. A common cold lands him in the hospital for a good long while.”
“That sounds bad,” I cringe. “Well, a card is nice. Maybe some candy might work, too.”
She gave me that look of disappointment that I have grown to both love and hate. I just smile.
“Giving a sick person candy?” Roxy scowls. “Seriously?”
“That's for when he gets better!” I retort.
“Still, Kal.”
Roxy is right, though. It's not the best idea to give a sick person candy. But still, I would like to give him something more than just a card. Having only a card sounds pretty boring.
“How about a basket of fruits?” I suggest.
She thinks about it and nods her head.
“Sounds alright,” she says. “It’s a lot better than candy that’s for sure.”
I laugh when she says that.
“True, true,” I say, when I finally calm down. “Well, I have to go right now. You know how my mom is.”
“Oh goodness,” Roxy says. “I know. Better go before you get in trouble.”
I scoff and laugh a bit.
After we say goodbye to each other, I race home so my mom doesn’t kill me. I do own a car and have a driver's license, but my school is close enough to walk. Besides, walking is good for you. I want to remain strong and healthy. I go into a daze while walking home, once again daydreaming about flying like a fairy with my friends. I only stop when I decide to check the time. My mom expects me to be home at 3 pm every day after school. it's 2:55 pm. I sprint like the freaking wind to make it on time or my mom will ground me for a week.
“Kallan, you barely made it on time,” she says as I walk in the door. I'm very out of breath and sweating from sprinting a mile and a half from my school to my house. My school is a two-mile walk and I’m a very fast sprinter. I could join the school track team but I’m not interested in sports. I’m more into gardening.
“I was talking to Roxanne for a bit. Can't you give me a break?” I ask her, still catching my breath. I go to the fridge and chug some water, a few big gulps of that refreshing liquid and I feel better.
“Kallan, a proper man is never late. Being early is on time, on time is late, and late-”
“Is unacceptable,” I say, cutting her off. “I know mom.”
Mom smiles at me.
“I'm baking some cookies! Would you like some?”
“Later,” I tell her. “I have to do homework. A ton of it.”
I race upstairs to my bedroom.
My bedroom is small, but it's cozy. My ceiling slants downward on the left-hand side. My bed is the average size for a kid my age and height. I'm 5 feet and 8 inches tall. I am 17 years old, as I said before. The bed covers are green with a leafy design. My walls are painted to look like a forest. The painting is incredibly life-like and breathtakingly beautiful. Every detail of my room signals forest-like and natural. The ceiling is painted to look like the top of a forest, with the light filtering down below. The rest of the room is detailed as the canopy light comes down and lights up the forest a nice green shade. There is a stag in the background and birds in mid-flight. There are flowers blooming on the trees and the ground. The forest is painted as spring. But what's weird is that the painting changes with the seasons which is not normal at all but I don’t complain. It’s pretty. In the summer, it looks like a summer forest. In the fall, the leaves are in beautiful shades of yellows, reds, oranges, and browns. In winter, everything is covered in a layer of snow that looks beautiful. A creek runs through it.
There's a lynx in the background too. But it's only visible in the winter. My carpet is just a normal carpet. It has a couple of faded stains from soda, hot cocoa, food, and other drinks. Mostly soft drinks.
My work desk is made of mahogany wood and has enough space to hold all of my books and art supplies. I even have a small drawer for packaged food. I open that drawer up and take out a large, family-sized bag of nacho cheese Doritos. I’ve been eating that thing for days. It's held tightly secure with a clip so no bugs get in it and start devouring my food.
Other foodstuffs I have in there are a package of powdered donuts, about twenty packages of dried fruits, trail mix, and a pear that I put in there this morning. It's still in good condition, surprisingly. I keep asking my mom to buy me a mini-fridge for my room. She refuses, saying that I have to earn it myself.
I shake my head at what my mom always tells me about earning the stuff I want, but I've been asking for that mini-fridge since November. It's early March and my birthday isn't for another two months in early May. May 8th to be exact. So far I have done everything plus some to earn that mini-fridge.
Mini fridges envelope my thoughts as I work on my English homework. I’m supposed to be writing about what interests me, but the whole thing ends up being about mini-fridges. I scrap it and push mini-fridges out of my mind. I get serious and work on what really interests me: nature, Celtic, and Gaelic folklore. Especially when they're about fairies. I know a guy like me shouldn't be into that stuff, but I am. Anything related to magic and sorcery has my full attention. However, I leave out the fairy things and just write about Celtic and Gaelic folklore and nature.
After about an hour of working on that, I move on to the dreaded subject of despair: M A T H ! ! !
The entire homework assignment is about equations of circles and finding the length of the tangent line and graphing. Graphing is the worst thing ever. I spend two hours on that until I finally finish the twenty problem worksheet. I decide to take a break and fool around on my computer for a while.
My mind suddenly turns to the new kid, the one who's in the hospital because of his poor immune system. Hametsu Yamashi. I know his name is in a different language. I know Yama means mountain in Japanese so I figure his name must be Japanese. I search for the meaning of the name Hametsu on Google. Hametsu means ruin. Then I take a look at the other part of his last name. Shi. Shi means death. So the English translation of Hametsu's name: Ruin Mountain-Death. Either his parents had a screw loose or they didn't know. It's most likely the former. I don't blame them. The name sounds a hell of a lot cooler than mine. Kallan Foster Aelfdene. English translation: Warrior Forest-guardian From-the-elfin-valley. Totally not cool compared to Hametsu. For starters, Hametsu’s name is easier to pronounce. Mine requires a dictionary or something, my last name does. It's so crazy to pronounce. Who's ever heard of the last name Aelfdene? Not anybody I know.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I often get teased about it in school. But Roxy keeps the jerks at bay. I love everything about her. Her dark brown hair and honey colored eyes. Her skin has a nice soft pink tone.
We both have the same interests. She actually likes the fact that I'm interested in fairies. I like to think that she is one. But, alas, she is not, and neither am I sadly. It would be awesome if we are though.
It's not just her looks that I like. She has the perfect personality, cheerful, optimistic, calm, and easygoing. We share each other's secrets and dreams.
I remember from a time when we were little kids. She told me that she wants to be a fairy princess when she grows up. It was pretty embarrassing now that I think about it. But at the same time, it was pretty cute.
I get off the computer long enough for me to eat dinner and eat a few oatmeal raisin cookies and carrot cookies. Carrot cookies aren't as bad as they sound. They're actually pretty good. Especially when my mom bakes them. The woman is a baking goddess, considering the fact that she's not even my real mother.
I’m adopted. I don't know who my real parents are. I've always known that I was adopted. I mean, I look nothing like my parents. My hair is light brown and my eyes are a startling shade of green. Sort of like the Crayola crayon green, except, more vivid and intense. My skin is light. My mom is a blonde haired, brown eyed woman who's about 49 years old. She’s tan from all the surfing she did when she was younger. My dad is black haired and also brown eyed and he's about 50 years old. He has a thick, black beard. His skin is dark, but not yet tan. He has a small scar on his lip from surgery when he had to get a tumor removed. Thankfully, it wasn't cancerous.
Just as I sit down, my dad comes in.
“I'm home!!” He exclaims. Dad takes a huge whiff of the delicious aroma of cookies baking in the oven.
“Oatmeal raisin and carrot cookies?” He guesses.
“You win the cookie dad!” I say. He laughs a hearty laugh. He's a playful and joking sort, a great guy to be around. He can make anybody laugh. Anybody. Even my math teacher, Mrs. Mackey, and that woman is the most serious woman to have ever walked the face of the planet.
“So, Kal, how was your day at school?” My dad asks.
“Average,” I respond. “Nothing eventful. Other than Roxy telling me that a new kid is coming to our school.”
“Oh really!” My mom exclaims. “Do you know what his or her name is?”
“Hametsu Yamashi. He was supposed to come today. But he got sick and we don't know when he's coming back. He has a weak immune system,” I say.
“Poor thing. We should make a card for him.”
“Roxy’s got that covered. Her fifth-period class is making a card for him. I want to give him assorted fruit.”
“That's very thoughtful of you Kallan.” My mom says. “I’ll go order it.” She washes her hands and heads off to do that. Dad and I look at each other and smile. We take the opportunity to steal a little bit of cookie dough and eat it. She comes back a few minutes later and resumes baking. She glances at the two of us and shakes her head with a half smile. She knows what we did. Dad and I just smile mischievously.
“Anyway, do you know you share any classes with him?” mom asks
“He's in my math class as far as I’m aware. Mrs. Mackey mentioned something about it,” I start to say, “but I wasn't really listening because math is the very embodiment of evil itself and Mrs. Mackey teaches math so… yeah.”
My mom nods. She's too involved in her baking to listen to me ramble about my disdain for math.
“Well actually,” my dad starts. “I visited him today. He was connected to a respirator. His older brother was with him.” Dad likes to volunteer at hospitals to visit patients and give them comfort.
“Is he ok?” My mom and I ask in unison.
“He's fine. I had a small conversation with him. He says he's coming back in about two days. He was getting disconnected from the respirator. His breathing is normal now,” he says. “I wasn’t able to visit him before, I’m not sure why though.”
“What does he look like?” I ask, intrigued.
“Dark brown hair, pale skin, pale green eyes. His hair is short and thick. He seems like a nice young man.” Dad says.
“Personality?” I ask
“Easy going, laid back, calm, a bit daydreamy, and sort of pessimistic.”
I nod. He seems ok. Maybe we can be friends. Really good friends. I can probably help him with his pessimism. Roxy used to be pessimistic, but I helped her to look at the bright side of things. Now she's a very optimistic person. So much so, she puts my optimism to shame. I love her. She's like my sister. We've been through thick and thin. High and low. Shallow and deep. We trust each other wholeheartedly with everything.
My mom snaps me out of my daze saying that I need to continue with my homework. I race up the stairs and crack down on science.
We’re learning about ecology and the study of ecosystems and their wildlife. Ecology comes naturally to me for some reason. I seem to know the names of all the plants and animals in the forests. Then I draw them in that Celtic design and write more symbols around it.
For some reason, the symbols look familiar. Extremely familiar, like I've seen it before, a long time ago, in a distant memory or something. It's comforting. Roxy agrees with me as she’s seen me draw it many times. Then I move on to history.
History is a bore to me. It's just not exciting. It’s monotonous. It's all about war and the events before and after. Nothing interesting in my opinion. I get it done in about thirty minutes.
After finishing my homework, I just fool around on my computer and order one of those fruit arrangements for Hametsu before I remember that my mom already ordered one. Well, now he's getting two. It should arrive at his hospital room tomorrow, along with the cards from his new classmates. Hopefully, he’ll appreciate them.
I’m fooling around on some gaming website when I’m alerted by my computer that I have an email. I quickly finish my game, albeit rushing through it sloppily, and I go to my Gmail account to look at my email. it's from someone who calls themselves “Blackdeath606”.
“Hey.” They type.
I'm surprised.
“Who are you and how did you get my email address?” I type back. I wait for a few minutes to get a reply. I'm writing in my online diary type thing. It's on my google docs account.
“Your dad gave the email address. I'm Hametsu. Your new classmate. I got sick and it was bad. I had to be put in the hospital for the umpteenth time this year. I'm quite sure your dad told you about my weak immune system. Haha.”
He's a pessimist alright. He's honestly sort of depressing. But I want to strike up a conversation with him so I sent him my cell phone number.
Literally, a minute later I get a text from him.
Hametsu: Hi!
Me: Hi.
Hametsu: Whatcha doin?
Me: Fooling around on my computer. Why do you ask?
Hametsu: Just curious. I'm bored sitting in my hospital bed. I can't do anything fun. :(
Me: What happened to you?
Hametsu: Oh, I got a cold. It's not the typical stuffy nose, sore throat, little cough sort of thing. My throat swells up and I can't breathe. My nose bleeds and my cough sounds like I have pneumonia. I feel like I'm dying.
Me: Yikes. Sounds bad. Well, I hope you get better.
Hametsu: Oh, I feel MUCH better than I did three months ago.
Me: You were in the hospital for THREE MONTHS?!
Hametsu: Didn't I JUST say that?
Me: Still. That's a long time.
Hametsu: Meh. For me, it's not. Normally I'd be there for about six or seven months. This is a record. I take it as my immune system is FINALLY getting stronger.
Me: Yikes. Well, we’ll see you in two days I guess.
Hametsu: Yeah. See ya.
We stop texting for a bit. He seems ok. A real pessimistic person though. But he's nice. But there's something unsettling about him. He seems too friendly, probably because he wants to make a good first impression. But he'd still be a great friend regardless. I decide to give him Roxy’s number so they can get to know each other.
Hametsu: Whose number is this?
Me: My friend Roxy's. I think that you might want to get to know her a little before you meet us.
Hametsu: That's sweet. Do you think she's hot?
Me: Uh... I guess. I dunno. She's my best friend.
Hametsu: You sure she’s not your GIRLFRIEND?
Me: What? NO!!!
Hametsu: Not yet at least.
I send an eye roll emoji.
He sends a laughing emoji.
Hametsu: Kallan, don’t deny your love for her!!
Me: She's not my girlfriend!! And please call me Kal.
Hametsu: I know. I know. I'm just kidding lol. Sorry, Kal.
Me: Are you gonna text her?
Hametsu: Later. I'm gonna take a little nap. The meds the hospital gives me make me really drowsy and because I like naps.
Me: Ok. Have fun.
Hametsu: I will lol.
We stop again. I continue to play games on my computer while getting ads about literally everything! I really hate ads. They're annoying and repetitive. I'm trying to find a way to stop the ads from popping up.
About three hours later, Hametsu texts me again.
Hametsu: Two star crossed lovers. And both of you deny it. Wow. Just... wow that's sad.
Me: Excuse me?
Hametsu: You and Roxy would make a perfect couple. But not as perfect as me and my girlfriend.
Me: You have a girlfriend?
He sends me a selfie of him and this girl with light pink hair and rosy pink eyes. She's pretty. The photo was taken at a resort during the winter holidays. I can tell because there was a decorated tree in the background and a lot of Christmas decorations. It's broad daylight in the picture and there was a really pretty white sandy beach outside the resort. Hametsu has a light band of freckles across the bridge of his nose and a little bit on his shoulders.
Hametsu: She's hot, isn't she? I love her. And I will beat the living CRAP OUT OF ANYONE WHO HARMS HER!!
Me: Whoa, Hametsu. I'm not interested in her.
Hametsu: Don't hit on her just because I sent a photo of her. I WILL hurt you.
Me: Dude, I JUST said that I'm not interested in her.
Hametsu: Ok. Just making sure. I don't want you to end up with a black eye and a broken nose. Maybe even a couple of broken bones. I tend to get carried away and I want to change that.
Me: Yikes. Did you have training for fighting?
Hametsu: Years worth. I have a black belt in karate, taekwondo, hapkido, jujitsu, you name it.
Me: You have a black belt in a lot of martial arts!!
Hametsu: Haha yes.
Me: Sweet. You can fend off some of the biggest jerks in our school.
Hametsu: Hmm sure.
Me: What do you mean by “hmm?”
Hametsu: Oh, nothing really. It's just that in my old school, I got expelled for my behavior.
Me: WHAT?!
Hametsu: I was the biggest “jerk” in school. I intimidated everybody. It was fun! :D
Me: Wow... Don't hurt us.
Hametsu: Oh, don't worry. I'm going to this school because I need a new start. I’ve changed after some harsh lecturing from my older brother and a lot of therapy.
Me: Good. All your new classmates are worried about you.
Hametsu: I’ll be back in about two days, maybe even tomorrow. I don't know. Things change with me.
Me: That's cool. We’re sending you stuff tomorrow.
Hametsu: Nice. Well, I got to go. I'm getting really tired again. Stupid meds. I hate them!! They make me sleepy and I don’t like being sleepy. I turn into a massive grinch.
Me: For real?
Hametsu: Yup. I hope you don’t get on the bad end of my sleepy scale because like I said, I become a grinch.
Me: Dang. Get some sleep.
Hametsu: No. You’re not my dad.
Me: I am now, child. Now sLeEp.
Hametsu: Never.
We go back and forth with this. I’m enjoying this conversation. I can tell that he’s enjoying it too. Then I noticed that he’s most likely starting to fall asleep because not only did he take longer to respond, he starts misspelling words… badly.
Hametsu: I cnat stay awale amynotr. Translation: I can't stay awake anymore. Yeah, he’s really tired if he messes up a sentence that badly.
Me: Ok, see ya.
Hametsu: Bye.
After that, we are done talking for the day. I learned that he's fiercely defensive of his girlfriend and that he can be a bit cruel. Hopefully, Roxy and I will be able to help him. But other than that he’s an awesome guy. He handles his hospital stays like a champ. I would be nothing but a mess of stress and anxiety if I had to go to the hospital. I’d be worrying nonstop about what’s wrong.
Then I caught a whiff of my sweaty clothing. Yeah, I need a shower. Sweat smells bad. I turn off my computer and go take a shower. I close my eyes as the warm water runs over me. I have a weird feeling on my back. It feels like a slight burning sensation.
I’m not aware that I'm writing with the soap on the shower wall until I open my eyes.
I wrote in that same language-like symbol. Except, they rearrange themselves as English words.
“Rise and fly price of life. Defeat the king of death before he releases a terrible plague that threatens all.”
That startles me. Rise and fly? I can't fly. I don't have wings. I wash off the soapy writing. I'm pretty sure that did more than startle me. It shook me to my core. I’m literally shaking. Suddenly, everything starts spinning and I black out.