Shattering Crystals

Dark clouds loom overhead, blocking out the light of the full moon. I shiver as I think about what is to come. I jump and let out a small squeak as I hear the sound of something snapping.

"Relax, Dana, It's just me," says Dean, lifting up his shoe to reveal the remnants of a tree branch on the cracked sidewalk.

"Don't do that," I hiss, shoving my hands into my pocket, to protect at least one part of me. "I don't want to get caught."

"Well, we're almost to my house, so there isn't much chance of that."

I take a deep breath, inhaling the warm, humid summer air. "I don't want to take any chances. Are you sure your parents aren't home? I don't want them to ask why we're sneaking out at three in the morning. We’d never live this down.”

"They aren't, I know for sure. That's one of the reasons they let me sleep over at Lorraine's anyway."

Dean raises his hand, stopping us at an old bungalow with chipped green paint. He reaches into the pocket of his neatly pressed khakis and pulls out a rusty key. He unlocks the front door and rushes me and Lorraine in.

"Lorraine, why so quiet?" I ask curiously. "You were always one to speak your mind."

"It's just... I'm going to miss home that's all," she sighs. "Won't you?"

“Yeah. I’ve never lived anywhere but here. I’ve always wanted to leave though, but I don’t know if I still want that.”

“Either way, we’re going,” she says. “What about you, Dean? Will you miss this?”

“Yeah. I guess I didn’t have the greatest life, and my parents were always nagging me about everything,” he says, “but still…”

“Well, I’ll miss it, that’s for sure. But don’t worry, I won’t be ditching you,” Lorraine assures us as she pulls out boxes of hair dye and rubber gloves from her bag. “Now, who wants to go first?”

----

At five AM, we’re all exhausted, but we drag ourselves off of the hard, dark wooden floor. We’re all sporting new hairstyles, Lorraine with beautiful, shoulder-length auburn waves, Dean with black curls, and me with chin length, slightly red hair with some still-black splotches here and there. I guess the dye wasn’t meant to be used on dark hair. Too tired to freak out, I figure that I’ll just wear a hat or something – there are bigger problems at hand.

“Come on,” I say, urging my friends to get up. I’m the most awake out of all of us, probably because of all those sodas I had at Lorraine’s house. “We have to catch the bus!”

“Coming,” they groan weakly, at slightly different times. I frantically check to see if we forgot anything, and sigh with relief when I see that the only thing left to pack is our sleeping bags. I mumble a few words to shrink them, but they just sit there, same as ever.

"Lorraine, come help me," I plead. For some reason, magic has always come more easily to her. It doesn't make sense - in our past lives, I was the one with all the power.

She waves her hand sleepily, managing to shrink only one. I sigh and focus on the remaining two, envisioning them shrinking down in size. They finally obey me after ten minutes of urging, and I stuff them into the bags, satisfied.

I turn back to my friends, who are lying on the two couches in Dean’s living room. “Wake up!”

“I’m awake,” Lorraine says, her speech coming out slightly garbled. She still doesn’t get up.

Dean doesn’t say anything, which brings me to think that he actually fell asleep. I tap him three times on the forehead and he opens his eyes. “What?”

“Get up,” I tell him. “We have to go soon.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, sitting up easily. His speech is clear, unlike Lorraine’s. It doesn’t seem like he just woke up, but rather that he’s . “What do you need?”

“Should we clean this up, make it seem like we’ve never been here?” I ask him. It is his house, after all.

“Uh, I guess,” he says. “We should get rid of the boxes of hair dye, though. If they find them, they’ll know that we don’t look the same as we did when we disappeared.”

“Good idea,” I say. “What should I do with them?”

“They’re going to search this house, along with yours and Lorraine’s. And probably go through the trash. So I think our best bet is to take everything with us.”

“Yeah, but it’s all gross and… dye-y,” I say. “It’s probably a bad idea to put this in the bags.”

“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen. He comes back with a plastic bag. He throws it at me. “Wrap it in this.”

I do so and then look around the room. “Anything else?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, then,” I say, walking over to the couch. “Lorraine, wake up. It’s time to go.”

----

My heart pounds wildly, clashing with my lethargic brain as I place my foot on the first step of the bus. I pay my fee, hands trembling, and head to the back of the nearly empty bus.

My friends and I clamor clumsily into a seat and squeeze ourselves in, not wanting to be separated (or have to be seated with strangers). I take a last look through the dirty window at the place I call home. But I soon realize that that is wrong. Where is home now? My brain refuses to give me the answer, far too tired.

My eyes droop and my head falls onto Lorraine's small shoulder. I finally allow myself to drift off, not knowing where we'll end up next.