I sat back from my journal and read everything I wrote, and felt instantly rejuvenated. Now, all I had to do was get this note to Damien.
I got up and ripped that paper from its metal coils; actually, I ripped it along the dotted line as to not disturb the coils and come out smoothly. Then, I folded that paper delicately so that it fit in my hoodie pocket and could easily be concealed. My next job was a simple one: Go to Damien’s room for delivery, and probably some hand-written chatting.
There was only one problem: Damien was missing from his room.
I only knocked twice before I let myself in and stared at his empty, neatly made bed. I would have to wander the halls in search of him and now pass him my note without anyone seeing. Chills shot up my legs. How could I do that without anyone seeing? Especially if he wasn’t alone? I did not want anyone to see that note…I had to be extremely careful.
I went downstairs to get a glass of water, even though I really wasn’t that thirsty. As I thought, the place was empty. I stalled, taking a couple more sips before finally deciding to brave the lower lounge…going down there alone became a bad idea. I only felt better once I saw that I would not be alone. Ad Astra sat at the top of the stairs. She appeared to be very casual, and blinked her eyes at me casually as I approached. The angel statue’s head faced me, acknowledging me with its innocent marble face. I bent down to pet the cat, her purring as soft as her fur, listening carefully to the downstairs. The wind whistled in and out of the fireplace, heavy winds in the lungs of the chimney…almost muffling out a quiet shuffling. Ad Astra turned her head instantly, her ears giving a little twitch. I jerked my head behind me to make sure no one was watching or even caring what I was doing. When I looked back to the stairway, I saw the statue head was now turned in that direction. I stood up and went down.
The evening dusk spread an orange and pink glow on the lounge carpet and made it look as though there were a fire burning in the fireplace. I peered at the floor from the stairs. I could feel a strong gravitational pull from the fireplace as it wheezed in and out. The cat sat perched on one of the stairs, her ears twitching, keeping an eye out for me as I walked downstairs.
I knew it wasn’t strong winds from outside breathing in and out of that fireplace. They only got stronger and louder as I approached. I stood still, captivated by the fireplace but also recognizing some danger. I stayed back far enough to watch it, as somehow I knew something was about to happen. The next breath the fireplace took blew my hair and clothes in whiplash. I shielded my face and ran back to the steps. It continued to wheeze—now the wind was stronger in its lungs—as it helped a folded piece of paper move along the floor.
I held on to the banister while searching my pockets, confirming that thought to be true. I ran up as far as I could go, still obligated to watch the scene before me. The paper on the floor rolled in the wind. I watched and listened as the fireplace’s breath brought it in closer with every inhale. The paper skidded along; possibly unaware it was going to be sucked in. One final gust of air brought that note all the way in its open jaws, and once it had its prey I heard a loud crunching sound with the wind swirling all around it. Ad Astra hissed and ran up the stairs, and I did not wait to join her.
Chapter 32
No, I didn’t see Damien that night. I just ran back to my room and shut the door, shutting out everyone and everything else.
I did check out the fireplace the next day. I was curious, after all, even though I was still slightly terrified. I didn’t have much time before classes resumed, but it was almost like I was looking for proof that actually happened. There were ashes all right, but that could have been from the last fire. There were no traces whatsoever that a flimsy one sheet of notebook paper had burned in there, if it burned at all. The fireplace was quiet that way, no doubt its appetite satisfied. Whoever had been watching apparently decided I wouldn’t be talking to anyone. My note was destroyed, but the Vow of Silence day ended and we all could get back to normal. Sort of. I did not even consider following through with my plan since that had happened, knowing perfectly well that if I even attempted something, I might be the next thing to burn in that fireplace.
My stomach in knots, my brain in slush, I could only go about my everyday routine in safety. On my way to class, one of the other girls ran up to me.
“I hear we’re not getting our phones back…at all.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I replied. “That is just wrong.”
“Well, that’s what Kimberly said today. I heard her telling some of the others. They were pissed but she didn’t even seem to care.”
“He can’t do that,” I tried again.
“Well, I guess he can. Kimberly said that we need to get used to it where we’re going.”
“We’re not going anywhere!” I practically cried.
She shrugged, her expression making my stomach sink. “I don’t know…”
I made it to class ready to huff and puff and blow it down. I knew we were giving up our phones for the Vow of Silence day, but I expected we would be getting back our personal property at some point. This needed to stop. Once Mitchell’s class finally arrived I saw my opportunity,
“Mitchell,” I approached him right away as I was one of the first students to arrive anyway.
“Yes Sky, what is it?”
“You took our phones for good? You’re not going to give them back?”
“Patience, my child,” was his answer. “What good will it do you? You may find it hard now but it will be for the best. It will be.”
We got the power of speech back, but I was speechless. Other students began to trail in as Mitchell went on.
“This will build character and show strength. We all need willpower. We all need to prove that we are better than technology and material possessions. It is just a test of strength.”
I didn’t feel like he was reassuring me. I felt like he was reprimanding me, like I just got caught passing notes in class and he was calling me out on it in front of the whole class. What was his deal?
“Sky, you know better than to doubt The White Light. It knows what is best for us. It knows everything. You will see. Sit down now, my child.”
And I did, being the obedient monkey I was. I suddenly thought that because of me, now Mitchell was going to have another one of his heavy recruitment classes.
“Everyone, I want to give you all an experiment,” he started, and I felt like sinking lower in my seat. “You will all go a week without technology and write a journal of what changed in your life. No phone calls, internet, television, video games…”
“Mitchell, what about homework? We can’t do homework if we can’t check emails and type up papers, or practically anything,” spoke up one student and I cringed, like someone just challenged God.
“You will use it for school work, yes. I am talking about personal reasons and leisure. This will be a social test.”
The people in my class were more outraged than the GOL members at The Manor, but that was expected. It was also expected that Mitchell had more flyers to hand out.
“Consider joining us if you want to see what it’s like to live in peace.”
I was glad to get out of that class to avoid the strange looks. Anytime Mitchell said something weird, or anything GOL related, people avoided talking to me. I was almost used to it by now. Getting back to The Manor actually made me feel…happy. Not content since I was done with classes at the end of the day, but happy like I was coming home from a place I did not belong. Even though we spent a week there without leaving, going back to classes almost made me feel homesick. I opened the front door and stomped off the snow clumps from my boots, not quite winter-friendly and already leaving gray stains on black suede. Some people were doing homework at the table and sofas. I noticed Becky at the table working on a drawing. I sat down by her, at once noticing the couple layers of paper under her as she drew.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
She looked up at me from making stroke
s with a colored pencil. The drawings she had were all remotely the same. I recognized the wide green fields and splotches of mountains instantly, deeply shaded and multicolored. She had drawings of that same waterfall we have all seen and all been to, but there was something else that was not…something that touched the very bottom of my gut. Becky had the gray pencil as she outlined them again, those long arms and legs and egg-round shaped heads.
Before I could stop myself I blurted out “Are those aliens?”
Becky looked at me and smiled, sort of shrugged, then pointed to herself and to me and back to the picture.
“Do you see them in the visions?” I asked.
Becky pointed to them and to us again, steady and delicate, like this girl will always just be recovering from a lobotomy. Her finger circled in the air counterclockwise and then I got it. Our future selves. Great.
“Oh….kay,” was all I said. “Um, have you seen Damien?”
She nodded and pointed above her head. It was the best news I got all day.
I barely knocked on his door. He was at his desk doing homework. Or, pretending to.
“Dude.”
“Oh, hey.”
He swirled his desk chair to face me, and I noticed the Word application he had open was completely blank.
“So, obviously, we couldn’t talk yesterday.”
“Or text.”
“Or text. I can’t believe Mitchell just took our phones like he owns them.”
“He says we will get them back.”
“Right. Whatever. He is just trying to control us.”
“No, I don’t think so. Don’t say that.”
I just shook my head.
“So,” I said changing the subject. “I was just downstairs and I saw Becky drawing. Her pictures are all the same.”
“I’ve seen them,” Damien replied. “They keep popping up all over the place.”
“Well. I had the thought that that’s what people think we are going to be…next.”
He seemed to think carefully about it, but brush it off a little.
“Yeah, that could be.”
I jerked my head a little. “Damien. Did you hear me? Becky—and probably the others—got the idea in their heads that when we die we’re going to go be aliens on another planet.”
“Of course, Sky,” was his surprising answer. “It’s kind of awesome if you think about it. Isn’t it? A next life?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Honestly I don’t know what to believe anymore. I keep trying so hard to find the truth, and each time I think I’m getting closer to it it drifts further away.”
“You just have to have faith. They have the answers! Mitchell trusts The White Light, and so do we. They have plans for us. The spirits are on our side.”
I felt that same brush at the bottom of my gut.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I wrote you a note the other night about...everything that has been going on, and trying to come up with a plan. I was walking around looking for you, and then I went down to the lower lounge and the fireplace was possessed again. It kept huffing and puffing and then it actually sucked the note out of my pocket and it burned in the fireplace.”
He just stared at me.
“The fireplace ate my note. On purpose.”
“They didn’t like what you wrote.”
“Um, no,” I said shuddering a little. “I guess they did not.”
Damien didn’t say anything else. He stared at a spot on the carpet.
“We have to come up with something. I don’t know what else to do,” I blurted out. “We better figure it out fast, and if the world is going to end on December 21st or if we’re all going to make the world end on December 21st, then we have to figure out how to stop them and fast, otherwise, we’ll all be dead. Or, something else will happen and I don’t know and don’t want to know what that will be. What are some of the others saying? Do you know? Did you hear anything? Did Iris say anything?”
Damien was still staring at the spot on the floor, eyes tied down without a twitch.
“Damien.”
Not a blink.
“Damien!”
He jerked up and looked at me.
“Sorry,” he said bashfully. “I sort of zoned out. I was thinking.”
Whatever he was thinking about, it had turned his cheeks pink.
Chapter 33
Our next meeting was necessary, very necessary, as the clock on the mantle ticked and the countdown to Doomsday went down. The students moved both in obedience and in fear. Mitchell gathered us all downstairs for another session.
“You are doing this for yourselves,” he began. “But, you are also doing it for your families.”
He paced the room, his cloak dragging along the floor, or so it seemed. It could not have been touching the floor at all.
“Your families do not know what the stars have in plan for us. They do not know the presence of The White Light. They have not been educated, but you have. You have and it is up to you to guide them. You have to show your families how strong you are now, for the New World will need leaders like us once Earth is finished. Only the strong will move forward, and only the strong will survive.”
The fireplace behind him wheezed, shooting out bits of ash here and there. Mitchell at once stopped and spread his arms.
“My children…The White Light and its followers are with me… They know and understand our faith, but they also know and understand our lack of faith. Who among us does not believe? Who among us does not have faith? The White Light needs our faith…”
Suddenly, his cloaks fluttered behind him, and once I looked at his face I had to lean forward. There was something wrong with his eyes. They were stone hard and dilated, and there was also something familiar about them. He cast his look at all of us, and once his sight beam hit me I knew exactly where I saw them before: In his office in one of the pictures on his desk. The eyes stared at me then and they stared at me now. Fresh beams of light to outshine any sun.
Mitchell’s arms continued to rise and his eyes opened wider, and before anyone could make a sound our teacher floated above the floor. There were some gasps and cries as our leader levitated, his arms out and his cloak fluttering all around him. I recognized this phenomenon from the first time I saw it, and the first time I truly saw the power behind this group. The minute we could all see his feet pointed towards the ground, everyone became silent and still. It seemed even Seth knew what was happening, craning his head upwards and smiling. We watched Mitchell drifted towards the ceiling, the wind starting to pick up in the room. Our hair blew around our faces, the fireplace whistled, the pages in books in the room opened and flipped uncontrollably. The wind blew around the room but we stayed in our places. We were secure in our places, our bodies the paper weights, watching our leader rise up all the way to the ceiling…and then gracefully come back down again.
The wind stopped; the curtains and drapes relaxing back against the windows. Mitchell’s cloak softly swirled down and hugged his sides. He lowered his head to the room, his eyes still piercing beams.
“Have faith, my Lights. Have faith.”
***
The room touched us, all of us, and made our skin prickly. If anyone, anyone at all, had even an inkling of disbelief it was now gone. The Guardians of Light exhaled as one, marveling at the figure at the front of the room which now possessed some sort of power…or was simply possessed. He smiled at us, looking at us all as though we really were his own children…or his prey.
“My children, go on now and do some private reflecting. We will meet again for dinner later tonight. Go on now. Keep your Lights focused. The clock ticks.”
In my room, I couldn’t think of anything to do. I remembered Mitchell’s eyes, both the time I saw them in the picture frame and just now in the lower lounge. He had a new power in him. He might even be the guardian of a spirit right now…sent in to watch over us in the weeks to come. Sent in to keep a very
close eye on us to make sure we did what we were supposed to do. I shuddered, realizing what I just thought. I just referred to Mitchell’s body as a “guardian.”
Dinner was mostly quiet. I was ushered in with the rest of the herd and just sat down; recognizing that this dinner was meant to be reflective instead of social. I mostly ate with my head down, fearful to meet any piercing glance and if it could see right through me. At one point, I looked up to try to see where Damien was and if we could communicate via looks. It was no surprise to see that Iris had pulled him next to her at her table, and that was where he stayed like an obedient puppy. I saw her whisper in his ear; he nodded quickly and took a sip of water, not saying anything else. I think I chewed the same piece of food for twenty minutes until it just dissolved itself in my mouth and I had nothing left to take my energy out on. Whatever she wanted with him, it had to stop.
No one was expecting to play any more games tonight. We were to have another sort of activity immediately after dinner. Mitchell sent us all downstairs in silence, instructing us to take a candle from a box and then take a seat on the floor cushions.
We lined up, toes to heels. When we all took candles from the last mess hall table, we held them in our right hands, connected in our own chain link. The angel statue greeted us before the lounge stairway, face turned upwards to the ceiling. No one dared to follow its glance. No one did anything else except sit down on the floor as we were instructed. Soon the upperclassmen came down with Mitchell taking up the rear. He was radiant, he was holy…he was still under some influence. We could all see it but most importantly we could all feel it. Waves of recognition washed over us, but they were also waves of understanding and belief. Mitchell looked around at all of us and we saw it in his eyes. He had the power within him. What he had was real.
Mitchell’s candle was the only one that was lit. In unison, we all held our flameless wick sticks in the air as a greeting.
My Soul To Keep Page 24