Heroes of Phenomena
Page 7
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SOMETHING DAMP and sticky clings to my eyes, making it almost impossible to open them. I wipe the mysterious substance off with my hands, astounded to see the ómva worked. Gunk was splattered all over the floors and walls.
I wonder if Turva was close enough to experience the bomb. Though the thought is probable, it is doubtful.
I search for Besnik under all the red goo. The door across the chamber is slightly open, my blue-scaled ally walks through it, also covered in Rubramalzek.
“This is the most horrendous thing I’ve ever seen in my entire 124 ages of life, Sudama. I’m telling ya,” Besnik hollers, and I chuckle. He clutches his stomach, covers his mouth, and lets loose his digestive system.
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“You mean, you didn’t see it?” He wipes the spittle from his lips.
“I was choked and passed out!”
He strides towards me, attempting to avoid puddles of our enemies. “Wimp.”
“Look who’s talking,” I jeer, clapping him on the back.
We stand in silence for a while, then I ask, “So what now?”
Besnik sniffs, “Now, we take a bath.”
THE SECRET OF GENAVUM
Artwork by Coleman Criss
10th Grade
Besnik
THE RED WORLD
By Emma Schneider
8th Grade
Inspired by PHENOMENA’s Ice of Phoenix
SHE STANDS in the middle of an endless sea of red grass. "Hello?" She calls out to me as I draw nearer. "Where am I?"
"Welcome to the Red World," I answer. "Population, one."
Her expression is bewildered. She has no idea who I am, and yet I know everything about her. "How do I get home? I need to get back to my family before they start to worry."
"They won't notice your absence," I tell her. "Unfortunately, you'll be stuck here for three days."
She looks me up and down, her blue eyes narrowing. "Just with you? Isn't that a little...scandalous?"
I smile. She says this same thing every time. "I promise you'll be safe. Who knows, you might even want to stay."
She scoffs. "I doubt it." We’re joking, but even so, it's painful. My one wish is that she will stay, but she never has.
"Follow me," I say, taking her hand. She's hesitant at first, but eventually relents.
We wade through the tall grass toward my little wooden house, and I ask about her life. "Have any family?" I already know, but I just like to hear her voice.
"Yes," she replies. "It's my mother, father, sister and I. You know...I really feel like I've been here before."
I refrain from telling her that she has, instead I drop subtle hints. "This world is my home. I used to live where you come from, but I accidentally killed someone, and this place is my punishment."
She drops my hand. "You killed someone?"
"He was a thug," I say, "trying to take money from a little girl. I stabbed him. Turns out, he worked for the government." It used to take me a long time to tell her this story, but now it flows from my mouth like normal conversation. I've found that speaking about it casually helps her trust me.
We take a seat on my sagging porch and look out at the horizon. She is staring blatantly at my face. "What is it?" I ask.
She turns away, embarrassed. "Nothing. It's just...you look so familiar."
If the government is hoping to punish me, it’s working. Having her look straight into my eyes and not recognize me is the hardest thing I've ever experienced.
"What's your name?" She asks.
"Adam," I say.
"I'm Penelope." I love her name. "You're kind of cute, Adam."
I used to try to make her fall in love with me. I would do everything I could to make her want to stay, but it never worked. Eventually, I learned to let things play out casually. She still never stays, but at least I don't come on too strong.
"Tell me about yourself," she says. "Do you get lonely out here?"
I nod. "Yes. You can't imagine how boring it is. You only have to be here for three days. My whole life is going to be spent here."
She sighs. "There's sort of a beauty to it, though. I like how simple it is. Plus, I've never seen this much grass in one place, or its unusual color."
I want to embrace her—wrap my arms around her body, and make her remember. It amazes me how her mind can take a place as ugly as the Red World, and still find something likable about it. This time, it is she who catches me staring.
She places a small hand on my chest and smiles. "You have a wild heart, Adam."
"What do you mean?" I ask. I've never heard her say this before.
"You love too quickly, and trust too easily. What if I were here to kill you?"
Everything within me wants to tell her why I trust her, why I love her, but she needs to figure it out on her own. My heart does feel wild, and on a whim, I brush a piece of her dark hair out of her face—something I would never do to a stranger.
"Being out here all alone can make a person do irrational things," I say.
She smiles, but her eyes are troubled. "I know your face," she tells me. "Where have I seen it before?"
"It doesn't matter," I say.
"It does," she protests. "Because I, too, am trusting." Her next words are whispered. "And love quickly."
I try to keep my hopes from soaring. I desperately want her to return my love, but things like this take time.