Casually walking along the busy hall, shoulder to the dented lockers, Mark holds a crumpled tissue to his bloody lip. "What happened? It wasn't like this before, even before Anthony awakened I was left alone for the most part. It only took a few days after that talk for this to start, like they felt the change in the air. Change? Is change the right word? Thinking about it nothing has changed from before he awakened and now. Except the obvious."
"I should really just.. I can't. They would be disappointed in me and I don't want to risk changing schools." Valentina suddenly springing to mind for some inexplicable reason, "I wish people wouldn't talk about her so much. Knowing she's back but hasn't come to the connector yet is annoying. And Anthony hasn't even messaged yet."
"I forgot how complete this felt before Anthony and Alicia came along. It's not been that long and I need something to distract me already." Lifting a hand to his cheek, Mark hesitates with his next step. "Infirmary or practice? I have math next.. so Infirmary."
Completing a full one eighty, Mark heads toward the Infirmary, "I'll grab a can on my way.. For the wait."
"Oh dude, that's Scott's brother." One friend grabbing at the others shoulder, motioning towards Mark as he stops to dispose of his empty cola can before entering the infirmary.
"Really? What the hell happened to his face?" He asks as he turns to Scott who is sandwiched between the two of them.
Embarrassment spreads rapidly, doing its best in reaching out to every fibre of his being until he begins to shrink into himself, allowing for his friends to go uninterrupted.
"It looks like someone took a rock to his face, gnarly.." The two friends continue, oblivious to their friends desperate look of wanting to escape the moment.
"Wait he's coming from that direction... He's an awakener? You should've said dude."
"If he's heading into the mixed infirmary he isn't all that strong."
"Still.. I'd kill to be an awakener man.."
"You'd have to. Twelve percent chance of awakening is crazy, its like genuinely believing you'll win the lottery."
"Of course, Sir. Nothing of note to report. Yes, I understand.. Yes, yes... Excuse me? Board members? Meaningless, just over half are in the fold. Yes, Sir. I apologize." Tossing the phone to his desk, grumbling something under his breath.
"She went to members of the board, nothing but a pain in the neck." Cage admits to his student.
"I don't understand." Anya states, having only heard one half of the conversation.
"It's Walsh. Gwendolyn Walsh has been approaching board members to try and get me fired." His annoyance unmistakable.
"So?" Anya questions, "We have the voting majority either way."
"It's infinitely easier for them to sit on their asses and cash our cheques when we ask nothing of them in return, but now? They want to question the morality of it all, the injustice, suddenly they need to earn their pay. Impartial, what a joke."
"Worried about the violence.. Ridiculous isn't it?" Cage asks, not waiting for a response before continuing to air his frustration.
"Kicking up a fuss because an awakener serves their purpose, I've never been witness to something so foolish. If it weren't for the Louis family she'd be long gone by now."
Sensing Anya was opening her mouth to respond, Cage only raises a hand to command her to leave.
"The director, he's always been a dubious one despite his jitteriness. Once it's obvious she's failed she'll approach him. She'll have to because things are only going to get worse from here on out."
"Are you doing okay?" Marks mother asks, her time waiting at the front door not going to waste.
Smiling lightly, Mark answers her, "I'm fine, just tired. I'm going to lay down for a while." Hanging his jacket on the coat rail, lethargic in his movements.
"Who did that?" She asks, the partial but sudden raising of her voice waking him for a moment.
"They fixed it, right? I waited over an hour.." Mark thinks to himself, instinctively raising a hand to his face.
"Definitely your fathers son.. the shirt." A gentle almost pained laugh closely following her words, tugging on the collar of his shirt to straighten it out despite the obvious staining.
"It's nothing, I did nothing about it. I'm doing fine, just tired."
"That's good and I know, you're not sleeping much. Which is a little ironic because you're in your bedroom all the time these days."
"I'll do better.. Just need to lay down for a moment." With an exchange of half smiles, Mark begins his climb of the stairs one step at a time.
"He's not said anything along those lines in years." She thinks to herself as he reaches the summit only to disappear once more.
"I'm at a loss." Alex admits to both herself and Valentina as the two take a break from their private practice, provided by Valentina of course.
"I've not progressed my spike power or strand capacity in ages. It feels like everyone else is reading from something totally different from me, total loss on where to go from here."
"Because you are.. Not that it means everyone else isn't at a loss of their own." Awkwardly comforting her friend while playing around with a thin strip of blue lightning between her index fingers, Valentina begins making complaints of her own.
"At least you got to beat up one of those silly boys.. You'll fight twice before I fight again."
Alex giggles to herself briefly at the fought of what she's getting at, "It's probably harder to get Freya into the duelling hall than it is to fight her. Look on the bright side though, your tutor is pushing your lightning forward a bunch."
Shaking her head so gently you could hardly tell it was being done, Valentina stands ready to continue their practice, "Things were so much simpler when I only had my internal ability."
"Now imagine navigating an external ability without anyone to guide you."
Over the course of a month life made an effort to remain the exact same from day to day. Hardly sleep, classes, silence, home. At some point it began feeling as if someone was slowly pressing the four walls of his room inwards. Hardly sleep, classes, silence, home, only daring to change on the couple occasions he'd find himself on the receiving end of a power trip or worse. A concerned talk.
A quick string of vibrations catch Marks attention. Glancing at the messages he only flicks the phone to silent before returning it to his pocket, countless having passed by as he stands lost in the crowd.
Nudging open the door, Scott is immediately pulled away from his phone, his parents quietly ushering him into the living room.
"What's going on?" Scott asks concerned and just a tad bewildered, only to be teasingly shushed by his mother, "Your father is off Friday so we're going to have a family day. You and your brother can skip your classes for the day. Mark probably wont mind and you're doing well for now, right?"
Flashing a toothy nervous smile Anthony continues his questions, "Seriously? Why, what's the occasion?"
"Well.. your brother is having a rough go of things and we thought it'd be good for him to get out there. Have some fun, y'know?" Their mother explains making sure to be precise with her wording, not noticing Scott's real smile disappearing and an identical, practiced one taking its place. "So what are we doing?"
Beneath the skin, a foreign clawing sensation drags across the surface of the skull, pulling him from an already shallow slumber. Goosebumps forming and disappearing just as fast.
Sitting up, Mark sees his room illuminated almost entirely, his once closed curtain somehow making way for the nights particularly bright moon light.
Head back to the much too thin pillow he waves a hand in the windows direction, the curtain sliding across the rail, now only the half of the room closest to him effected by the light.
Adjusting it once more only a thin strip of light remains.
Laying with it for a long moment, Mark finally decides to stand and close the curtains properly. Now standing in front of the culprit he can't help but take a look at the light that dared help disturb his sleep, as if it were beckoning him to do so.
A ring, looping around and back into itself to form an unimaginably large circle to keep captive the moon as it shines so bright. As if this night, this moment, was the only night it was permitted to shine so magnificently.
No words, no thoughts. Just glaring at one another, a staring contest with what must be the worlds biggest eye until a foreign feeling corrupts the moment.
Small, the feeling of being so incredibly small.
Averting his eyes to the garden, an owl flees from the frail branches of the withered family tree while rain trickles down.
"What the hell.." Mark mutters now completely awake and having made sure no light could infiltrate the room again.
Resting his head back down against the slender pillow, Mark knew. "I'm not sleeping tonight."
Friday,3:34AM.
Step by step, up into the pitch black hallway, Scott hesitates before he makes the final turn towards his bedroom. Silence only the middle of the night can provide, the faint sounds of rain batting down adding to the ambience, makes the perfect environment for Scott while he stares at Marks room door.
Opening his mouth, air rushes out instead of words followed by a bitter laugh targeted at himself for only a moment until he suddenly realizes there's nobody to perform for here in the dark.
"I'm at the top of all my classes, one of the smartest in the entire year. Teachers love me so much they go out of their way to praise me. I have good friends, I'm dependable. I'll awaken soon and I'm pretty sure I know what I want from life."
"They couldn't be more proud.. of you?.." His bitter laugh making a brief return, "It's funny, funny to me at least. While you're their pride and joy I don't even tell people I have a brother. It's silly but it made me feel better.. You took that too. I think I might hate you."
The only flicker in the dark, Scott remains at home there despite no longer speaking to the door. Not thinking about what he said or what he could've added just trying to recall a good memory he can look back on between himself and Mark until giving up and returning to bed.
Three of the family of four gather at the dining table, eating a bountiful breakfast, one you'd expect to see on television with no-one actually daring to take a bite.
"Here he comes." The boys father exclaims, standing from his seat as soon as the thuds of Mark practically skipping down the stairs reaches the kitchen.
Before he can make it to the hallway the front door opens and closes.
"Has he just left without saying anything?" Their mother asks, not making an effort in hiding her disappointment. "We should've told him about our plans yesterday, like you said." Continuing as she leaves the kitchen table.
Walking by her husband and towards the stairs, he finally responds. "It was a nice idea.. We'll still do something with Scott, we can't back out now Mark left. It'll look like--"
"You two have fun." Her words demanding the end of the conversation.
Back in the kitchen, Anthony handles the pan left on the stove. "Just us two today. We can watch that new movie you've been asking to see."
Turning a little too carelessly, Scott sends the salt tumbling across the floor. Dropping the pan back to the stove he sighs, "It's not showing anymore."
Father and son sweep the floor until the silence is briefly broken, "Over your left shoulder. Spilling salt is bad luck but throwing it over your shoulder cancels it out."
"You believe that? It's just a stupid superstition." Scott murmurs, sweeping with the dustpan.
"No but your grandmother did and its no harm."
Pinching a tiny bit from the floor, Scott flings it over his shoulder to his dads amusement.
"That's your right, good try though."