In the magical realm of Dawn, the destiny of the powerful Kingdom of Aralia rests in the hands of its mighty young princess and a shapeshifter Red Dragon, when an ancient prophecy prompts them to destroy an immortal soul in a battle that will establ...
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"Please, Mom! I need this." I beg as I watch her exquisitely swab the milk off the glassy counter. She shoots me a weary glare.
"I'm sorry, but I won't let my daughter run off to some lake house in the middle of the woods for an entire weekend with a bunch of teenagers who will have no adult supervision. I'm surprised you would want to go to something like this. Is this about Jake? Did he do something?" I'm surprised too, but this is about Jake. I need to get away from him even if it's just for a weekend.
"Well, if you mean smoking revolting cigarettes in our bathroom at midnight and claiming that I'm some powerful freak of nature with magical powers and mythological creatures are out to get me, then yes."
"I know that he can be...intense. Jenna has been trying to get through to him with his beliefs about magic for years. He even went to therapy for 9 months, but he wasn't making any progress. You need to try and understand that he is not well, but you are . You need to be the bigger person here. Promise me that you will be." I don't want to make any promises that I know I can't and won't keep. I want to understand that he is ill but if he is really as unstable then he should be getting help from superior sources that will ensure he gets well.
"I can try to understand. But can you understand that I need to have a weekend away from here? You know me, mom. You can trust me. You know I'm responsible. Please."
"I will talk with Elena's mother about this. I will let you know."
"Thank you." I hug her just as I feel her icy and moist fingers against my back.
I go back to my room where the fragrance of cherry blossoms is fulfilling. I lay down on the mattress when I hear a ghostly fainted crack on the roof. I wonder what Jake is doing in that filthy and frigid attic. He's been up there since I arrived. I better hope he is not doing some twisted wicked ritual in my attic. I hear the crack once again but this time is booming just as I find myself drifting into a deep sleep and bounce off the bed. I don't know how much of this I can take. I storm out of the room as I try to keep my rage at ease but I'm fuming. Everything he does irritates me and some people might not understand how I could loathe someone like him as much as I do. He has done nothing but unravel my life in ways I can't even find the words to describe every time since we were kids. He always managed to make me feel like trash and like I didn't belong. He ensured everyone knew it too. I climb as I make my way up the mucky attic where the icy temperature and revolting odor are already making me regret coming up here in the first place.
"Claire?" I watch him sitting in the caliginous corner with a dim of light reflecting on his astound face. I can tell I am the last person he expected to see.
"What are you doing?." I ask but he doesn't seem to be doing anything other than holding a family album that he must have gotten from the grimy old box that mom likes to keep in here.
"Do you remember my 6th birthday?" He randomly asks.
"Yeah, why?" I don't know what game he is trying to start with me by bringing this up.
"These photos. They look so real. It looks like I had a lot of fun that day."
"Where are you going with this? Those are real." I'm bewildered and surprisingly calm, which is something that I never thought would be possible around him.
"No. My dad had to go away on a business trip a few days before my birthday. He wasn't going to make it in time for the happy birthday song. I begged my mom not to throw me a party. He promised not to miss another birthday. I was angry. I asked my mom to take me to the cake shop because that's all I wanted to do and she did."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I never had a 6th birthday party." I'm muddled by his words that are not making any sense. I try to keep my head clear since this could all be his corrupted way of messing with my head once again.
"What do you mean you never had a 6th birthday party? You are not making any sense." He's truly gone mad this time and I fear that it's only getting worse.
"When I went to the cake shop, one of the ladies who worked there noticed how miserable I was. My mom told her it was my birthday and she made sure I had the best cake in the shop. My mom took a picture of me that day." He reaches for something in his pocket and I notice it's a photograph. He gently stretches his arm and I reach for it without a single word. A young boy with a desolate smile, slicked back dark brunet hair, and narrowed almond desparing eyes is standing behind a table where a rich chocolate cake is decorated with polished strawberries and a Happy 6th Birthday written on it.
"Is this you?" I hesitate to ask. The kid in this picture looks exactly like him. There is no way he is lying about this.
"Yes."
"How is that possible?"
"I can tell you, but I need to know if you are willing to accept the truth about you."
"About me? What does this have to do with me?"
"It has everything to do with you. It all started because of you."
"You are not making any sense right now."
"Just listen."
"No. Is this another one of your games? It is, isn't? All this crap about your birthday. It is just another twisted and sickening way of you to mess with my head again."
"This isn't a game. I'm trying to protect you." He warns me but I feel the rage as a vicious fire bursting and burning through my veins and this time I might just blow up.
"No, you are not! There's...." I stop just as I feel my head spinning and drifting from this caliginous corner and I watch Jake rush over to my side before my vision is nothing but horrifying darkness, but I am able to get back to my senses soon enough to try and sit still without his help as I push him away.
"Are you okay?"
"Like you care." It is mesmerizing the way that he can mentally and physically exhaust me.
"Believe it or not, I do care about you." I have a feeling he is being sincere but I can't let him get to me. I always say it but end up falling for his twisted games all over again.
"Why do you keep doing this? When is this gonna stop?" I'm exhausted by his bizarre thinking that makes no sense in my head yet I feel like it should.
"Look at the date on the right corner." He points to the photograph on my hand. The date of his 6th birthday. The same date that is written on the photograph where we are all standing on his 6th birthday party.
"I don't understand. This is not possible. If you were at the cake shop, then..." I can't find the words since it is absurd to even find a way to explain this.
"I wasn't at that birthday party because it never happened."
"Then how come there's photos? How come I remember being there?"
"Like I said, I can tell you. But, you need to be willing to accept the truth about you."
