A Hero In The Dark

Chapter 149: Master of My Will

~ Wednesday ~

Today is a slow day.

It seems impossible to get out of bed, the exhaustion much worse than it was yesterday yet my body and heart refusing to sleep with the aching loss of John.

The morning lasts for forever.

Math class stretches on and on. I drown out the teacher's words and instruction; lay my head on my desk, close my eyes, and dream of John and Lorien. Not even the sound of the bell signifying the end of class jumpstarts me awake. Only my teacher's hand does. For when it touches my shoulder, I snap to the present.

"Is everything alright?" she asks, standing over my desk.

I simply nod; reply, "I'm just tired."

"Should be getting your sleep during the night. Not in class," is all she says while I gather my belongings and head for the door.

"I know..."

English class is easier to get through today; I am able to stay at least somewhat functional during the majority. Mrs. Harris lectures about how to write professional letters and emails. I only half pay attention when I remember an old letter that I wrote to John long ago. This was back when I was on the Anubis under his control. I read it over and find mistakes; find sentences that no longer apply, sentences that could be changed, sentences that I can add. And so, I grab a blue pen from my pencil case and make the modifications. It is all I work on for the remainder of the class, ignoring everything else around.

At lunch, I don't hang around in the cafeteria. I don't want to be bombarded by students asking the same questions who beg and beg me to show off my legacies. So, I take a walk around the school outside. The fall air does wonders to soothe my mind, a soft breeze blowing through my hair. I almost find a sense of peace if it weren't for the ding heard from my iPhone in my back pocket. I pull it out and check the notification.

A text message from Dad, reading, "Are you ok?"

I roll my eyes in a fit of hidden anger. My Dad has been constantly messaging me that same question over and over since John left. Always those exact same words. Spelt exactly as they are written. The first few times, I haven't texted anything back – being too furious still at the fact that he took John away from me. But then he resorted to calling. I declined and kept doing so until it was ringtone after ringtone. I didn't want anyone at school to stare and judge so eventually I picked up and answered. I know better than to let that happen again.

And so, I type out a reply, the same reply, "I'm fine."

It is a lie, but that doesn't matter. My Father has proven that all he cares about is keeping me physically safe. Safe from Mogadorians and bad people that might hurt me. Safe from myself even. It doesn't matter if my heart is broken or not. That pain doesn't exist for him. It shouldn't exist for anyone near him either. Therefore, there is nothing to be concerned about.

I don't receive a response back. Like I ever have. No message that says, good keep it that way. No message that says, don't do anything stupid. No message that lies and says, I am just trying to protect you don't turn your back on me and you'll be fine as long as I live. Why would I get anything of the sort? The conversation is over. He is satisfied. He is satisfied and I am left hanging in the air.

When I near the front entrance to the school again to head inside and prepare for my third period class, someone calls my name from behind.

"Emily!"

I've heard the voice before. One of my most trusted old friends. The twin brother to my best friend. Deepest and gruffest voice I know. Rough and patchy and that might seem unfitting but understanding nonetheless; for I have known him and his brother since first grade.