Waking Up Someplace Else
As Primrose runs through the woods, she trips. When she looks behind her, the hunters are catching up. “I have to keep going.” she says to herself. Primrose is out of breath and she doesn’t think she can run anymore but she forces herself to keep going. All of a sudden she hears a gunshot. A sharp pain spreads in her left thigh and she hit the ground. The bullet ripped straight through. She doesn’t know what to do. They are catching up.
Then a boy runs up so fast that he is a blur. He picks her up as if she is lighter than a feather. And that is when Primrose fades into unconsciousness.
As Primrose opens her eyes, she realizes that she is laying in a bed that was unfamiliar to her. Last thing she remembers was being shot by the witch hunters in the leg and a boy running up to her so fast that he looked like a blur. Then, nothing. Where am I? she thought. She couldn’t remember how she got here. She sat up and put her legs over the side of the bed. When she checked her left thigh, where she was shot, she gave out a small gasp. It was completely healed. Though, she knew it happened because there was a scar and it still hurt.
“Hi there. I see you are up.” said a voice, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Hi.” she replied quietly. The owner of the voice was a boy. He looked no older than 17 like her. He had pitch black hair that reminded her of a crow’s wings. It wasn’t short like other boys’ hair. It was about eye length. He was very pale, stood about 5’7”, and looked well built. Primrose could see his muscles bulking through his leather jacket. He was wearing all black. His eyes were a bright sky blue. They didn’t look like any natural eye color she has ever seen. Primrose figured that he was probably wearing contacts.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“I’m feeling fine. But, how did I get here and where exactly is here?”
“I brought you here. And this is my house.”
“Why? How did you find me? How did my leg get better? Who are you?”
“Whoa there. Take it easy. How about one question at a time?”
“Okay.”
“My name is Dante. You might not remember me, but I remember you. We knew each other when we were kids. We made a blood link. I’m also a witch. Though, I prefer the term warlock. When we made that blood link, we were linked telepathically. I know this is a lot to take in so, take your time.”
“So, every time I felt a presence by my side, that was you? I was feeling you through our link?”
“Yes.”
“That’s surprisingly easy to understand. Probably because I read about it happening before. Stuff like that has happened a lot. Well, according to the books.”
“What books?”
“The History of All Magic. My mom has a lot of them. Well, my mom had a lot of them.”
“Had? What happened to them? Did she get rid of them? Or, did she just lose them?”
“Now look who's asking more than one question.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. What I mean, is that she died. I’m an orphan now. But, I live on my own.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. And just so you know, I do remember you. I just haven’t seen you in so long. I didn’t recognize you at first.’
Primrose and Dante talked for hours. He told her that he pulled the bullet out and used some healing spells to fix her up.
“So, how did you go so fast?” she finally asked.
“A simple speed spell. I’ve been practicing a lot. I could teach you some of them if you want.”
“I would like that a lot. And Dante?”
“Yeah Primrose,”
“Thank you. For saving my life I mean.”
“No problem. What kind of friend would I be if I let my friends die?”
“A pretty terrible friend.” she laughed.
As it got later in the night, she admitted that she was getting tired and that she should get home. That is when she remembered that the hunters chased her from her house to begin with. Dante came up with the idea that she should just live with him so that neither one of them would be lonely and they would both be completely safe from the hunters. She agreed. They worked together to cast a cloaking spell on the house so that the hunters couldn't find them.
Impressum
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 05.12.2017
Alle Rechte vorbehalten
Widmung:
I dedicate this to my mother, Samantha Adkins, for telling to express my creativity. I dedicate this to my cousin, Ashley Burrows, for pushing me to keep going when I wanted to give up. I dedicate this to all of my friends and family for helping me to believe in myself. Last and least, I wanna dedicate this to all who bully me. You told me I couldn't do anything and because of that I decided I would prove you wrong. So, thank you for helping make this book happen. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for support from my friends and family, and I wouldn't have tried if people didn't tell me I couldn't do it.