Status: 36/51 chapters!
Music Girl
Ashes and Smoke
Terror filled me.
The fiery poison started in my left wrist and worked its way though my blood. I opened my mouth to scream, but no wound came out. The poison burned as it spread, but everywhere it had been began to feel heavy. It was like my blood was turning to pure lead, and my muscles and tissues being sapped of all their energy.
Before the poison could take its’ full effect, something hard smashing into my right cheekbone. My head snapped to the side as some indistinct yelling filled my ears. I could see naught but shadows. The blows fell upon my body hard and swift, beating my face, ribs and stomach without mercy.
And I could do nothing. I could do nothing except lay there helplessly, unable to summon even the tiniest bit of strength to defend myself. Not to raise my arms or even my voice. The poisoning drug had done its’ work, and my father used it to finish his.
-
Once again, they were home alone.
Aravic couldn’t recall a time prior to meeting Sam that he had missed so much school. Since his parents had dumped him at the Thyroid house in early September, Aravic’s life had certainly been a lot more exciting and dramatic. He sat in his bed in early October now, thinking about Sam and how much his life had been influenced by her already. It had almost been one month since his parents left for Africa, but he didn’t miss them at all. They promised they’d be back by December, but Aravic wished they wouldn’t come home, and that he could stay in the Thyroid house forever.
There was a knock on the door, and Aravic said, “Come in.” The door swung open and Sam stood in its’ frame, looking a total mess. Just about every inch of her exposed skin was bruised. Tomas had told Aravic (with disgusting glee) that the night of the fire, Mr. Thyroid had drugged Sam and beaten her severely for leaving Aravic in the church. It made him sick to his stomach.
Sam held up her phone with one hand and said, “I got your text. What d’you need?”
“Well, I was wondering…I’ve got another five days in bed here, and I’m getting pretty bored with the computer…got any good books I can borrow?” Sam blinked a few times, surprised, before answering.
“Alright, I’ll go and, erm, get one.”
“Thanks,” Aravic said as she left.
Aravic let out a long breath and fell back down against the ocean of plush white pillows. Finally, something to really take his mind off things. He had apparently been taken to the hospital once Sam had pulled him out of the fire. All Aravic could remember was something extremely hot and heavy falling down on his legs and then waking up in the ER. He had suffered second and third degree burns across the backs of his legs, but thanks to skin graphs and an amazing surgeon, all he would have were two thin scars on the backs of his thighs. He was just confined to his bed for about a week while the stitches healed.
Sam came back with a rather thin book, and handed it to Aravic. He looked at the title and raised an eyebrow. “Twilight?” he asked skeptically.
“Of course not, open it up.”
And so he did, and read in relief, “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.”
“Yes. I switched the dust jackets so I can read them wherever I please. And if that book isn’t in the exact same condition when I get it back, you’ll be losing a lot more than your life.”
As she began walking out, Aravic stopped her with his voice. “Sam? Thanks. For everything. Not just the book, but for, you know… saving my life and stuff.” Sam turned around, nodded, and exited the room.
-
Aravic got the first Harry Potter book on Tuesday morning and finished the seventh Saturday night. He awoke Sunday morning to Sam brining him eggs and toast for breakfast. “Well? I heard you bawling last night. Who was the worst?”
“Dobby. And Tonks, she was one of my favorites.” Sam smiled knowingly.
“Mine was Fred. I cried for two hours,” she said, placed the food on the bedside table and picked up Deathly Hallows, disguised in a Breaking Dawn cover, to inspect it.
“So Sam,” Aravic began, pulling his food towards him, “what exactly happened at the church?”
“Pull up the article on it. October 4th, Denver Post,” she answered absentmindedly as she flipped through her precious book. Aravic reached down, picked up his laptop off the floor, and fired it up. The Denver Post’s website popped up in seconds, and he clicked back a few days.
The front page for October 4th included a picture of the burning church, complete with the headline, “Regalist Church Burns.” Aravic scanned through the rather short article. “An electrical fire?” Aravic asked, looking back up at Sam. She nodded.
“Probably, but I personally don’t think it was an accident. Burning metal? It’ll have to have been some intensely hot fire.”
“So… you’re thinking… arson?”
“Almost defiantly. There’s no way an electrical fire could do that much damage.”
“But then… who would have done it?” Sam frowned, shaking her head.
“I don’t know, and that’s the problem. But I bet they were trying to frame Ryan Mull.” Aravic gave her a blank stare, and Sam rolled her eyes.
“Don't tell me you don’t know who Ryan Mull is?” she sighed. Aravic shook his head, and she continued. “Oh honestly, do you follow anything going on in the world? No, probably not… well, Ryan Mull is the Republican running for President this year. What I’m getting from his speeches… if he gets elected, he’ll get rid of Regalism and all the corruption.”
“But… he won’t get elected if he goes about like that, will he?”
“I don’t know. He’s been really subtle when he hints about it in his speeches, and most Americans today aren’t that bright. If you don’t understand what he’s really saying, then you’d think he was in love with Regalism.” Sam paused here and tucked her book under her arm. “But the point is, someone lit that church on fire in hopes to pin it on Mull. Someone wants to make sure he doesn’t get into office. And –”
“Samantha! I’m ready for breakfast, get down here now!” Mr. Thyroid’s voice overpowered hers from the speakers in the wall. Sam stuffed the book under Aravic’s bed and shot out the door to the elevator, leaving Aravic’s head spinning with questions.
The fiery poison started in my left wrist and worked its way though my blood. I opened my mouth to scream, but no wound came out. The poison burned as it spread, but everywhere it had been began to feel heavy. It was like my blood was turning to pure lead, and my muscles and tissues being sapped of all their energy.
Before the poison could take its’ full effect, something hard smashing into my right cheekbone. My head snapped to the side as some indistinct yelling filled my ears. I could see naught but shadows. The blows fell upon my body hard and swift, beating my face, ribs and stomach without mercy.
And I could do nothing. I could do nothing except lay there helplessly, unable to summon even the tiniest bit of strength to defend myself. Not to raise my arms or even my voice. The poisoning drug had done its’ work, and my father used it to finish his.
-
Once again, they were home alone.
Aravic couldn’t recall a time prior to meeting Sam that he had missed so much school. Since his parents had dumped him at the Thyroid house in early September, Aravic’s life had certainly been a lot more exciting and dramatic. He sat in his bed in early October now, thinking about Sam and how much his life had been influenced by her already. It had almost been one month since his parents left for Africa, but he didn’t miss them at all. They promised they’d be back by December, but Aravic wished they wouldn’t come home, and that he could stay in the Thyroid house forever.
There was a knock on the door, and Aravic said, “Come in.” The door swung open and Sam stood in its’ frame, looking a total mess. Just about every inch of her exposed skin was bruised. Tomas had told Aravic (with disgusting glee) that the night of the fire, Mr. Thyroid had drugged Sam and beaten her severely for leaving Aravic in the church. It made him sick to his stomach.
Sam held up her phone with one hand and said, “I got your text. What d’you need?”
“Well, I was wondering…I’ve got another five days in bed here, and I’m getting pretty bored with the computer…got any good books I can borrow?” Sam blinked a few times, surprised, before answering.
“Alright, I’ll go and, erm, get one.”
“Thanks,” Aravic said as she left.
Aravic let out a long breath and fell back down against the ocean of plush white pillows. Finally, something to really take his mind off things. He had apparently been taken to the hospital once Sam had pulled him out of the fire. All Aravic could remember was something extremely hot and heavy falling down on his legs and then waking up in the ER. He had suffered second and third degree burns across the backs of his legs, but thanks to skin graphs and an amazing surgeon, all he would have were two thin scars on the backs of his thighs. He was just confined to his bed for about a week while the stitches healed.
Sam came back with a rather thin book, and handed it to Aravic. He looked at the title and raised an eyebrow. “Twilight?” he asked skeptically.
“Of course not, open it up.”
And so he did, and read in relief, “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.”
“Yes. I switched the dust jackets so I can read them wherever I please. And if that book isn’t in the exact same condition when I get it back, you’ll be losing a lot more than your life.”
As she began walking out, Aravic stopped her with his voice. “Sam? Thanks. For everything. Not just the book, but for, you know… saving my life and stuff.” Sam turned around, nodded, and exited the room.
-
Aravic got the first Harry Potter book on Tuesday morning and finished the seventh Saturday night. He awoke Sunday morning to Sam brining him eggs and toast for breakfast. “Well? I heard you bawling last night. Who was the worst?”
“Dobby. And Tonks, she was one of my favorites.” Sam smiled knowingly.
“Mine was Fred. I cried for two hours,” she said, placed the food on the bedside table and picked up Deathly Hallows, disguised in a Breaking Dawn cover, to inspect it.
“So Sam,” Aravic began, pulling his food towards him, “what exactly happened at the church?”
“Pull up the article on it. October 4th, Denver Post,” she answered absentmindedly as she flipped through her precious book. Aravic reached down, picked up his laptop off the floor, and fired it up. The Denver Post’s website popped up in seconds, and he clicked back a few days.
The front page for October 4th included a picture of the burning church, complete with the headline, “Regalist Church Burns.” Aravic scanned through the rather short article. “An electrical fire?” Aravic asked, looking back up at Sam. She nodded.
“Probably, but I personally don’t think it was an accident. Burning metal? It’ll have to have been some intensely hot fire.”
“So… you’re thinking… arson?”
“Almost defiantly. There’s no way an electrical fire could do that much damage.”
“But then… who would have done it?” Sam frowned, shaking her head.
“I don’t know, and that’s the problem. But I bet they were trying to frame Ryan Mull.” Aravic gave her a blank stare, and Sam rolled her eyes.
“Don't tell me you don’t know who Ryan Mull is?” she sighed. Aravic shook his head, and she continued. “Oh honestly, do you follow anything going on in the world? No, probably not… well, Ryan Mull is the Republican running for President this year. What I’m getting from his speeches… if he gets elected, he’ll get rid of Regalism and all the corruption.”
“But… he won’t get elected if he goes about like that, will he?”
“I don’t know. He’s been really subtle when he hints about it in his speeches, and most Americans today aren’t that bright. If you don’t understand what he’s really saying, then you’d think he was in love with Regalism.” Sam paused here and tucked her book under her arm. “But the point is, someone lit that church on fire in hopes to pin it on Mull. Someone wants to make sure he doesn’t get into office. And –”
“Samantha! I’m ready for breakfast, get down here now!” Mr. Thyroid’s voice overpowered hers from the speakers in the wall. Sam stuffed the book under Aravic’s bed and shot out the door to the elevator, leaving Aravic’s head spinning with questions.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hahaha... Ryan Mull... xD