Markings

Aibell stepped out of the apartment, hands in her pockets. She breathed in the cold air and walked to the bus stop, sitting down on the bench and waiting.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Someone said, close to her ear. Aibell looked to her left, her eyes landing on a boy with sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was smirking, looking a bit too full of himself.

"Yeah, sure," Aibell said, rolling her eyes. "Now, bugger off, would you?"

"Oh, the language of the English. Quite a vulgar language, actually. In my opinion, at least. Of course, who am I to judge? I have quite a dirty mouth whenever you set me off, I'll admit-"

"Why are you talking to me?"

"You must have English parents. No American uses the term bugger off, that's for sure. I know a girl from Bristol, she often tells her sibling to bugger off. I prefer different terms-"

"I asked you a question."

"I can also hear a slight British accent. Were you born there or here in Chicago?"

"I was born in New York, for your information," Aibell snapped. "My parents were British, too. Now, shut up."

"That's amazing. I've always wanted to go to London. Heard it's really rainy there, though. I was born here in Chicago, not that exciting, really. I've never really been anywhere else. My mom lived in Missouri once, though-"

"Do you ever just shut up?"

"No. My best friend says it my fatal flaw. I have a lot to say, though, might as well get it all out, right?" He smiled, exposing all his white teeth. Even though they were straight and white, two of the teeth were chipped, as if he'd been punched in the face. It wouldn't surprise Aibell, because she felt like punching him.

"Or you could just keep it in your big head and leave me alone," Aibell said, smiling sarcastically. "Now, go away."

"But I can't! Look, I have to get on the bus to get home, kid, I can't just run off-"

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Aibell asked, eyes narrowed.

"Shouldn't you?"

"No."

"Well, neither should I. I don't attend school. At least, not a school like yours. My school already ended. Oh, look! The bus!"

"Thank God," Aibell muttered, sighing with relief. The bus stopped in front of them, and the door swung open. Aibell hurried onto the bus, paid, then looked for a seat. Everywhere was full, except for two seats, one of which had a little old lady wearing a straw hat. Weird, but good enough. Anything to keep away from an empty seat, where that annoying kid would sit with her.

Unfortunately, the empty seat and the old lady seat were both in the very back, right across from each other. So, when Aibell sat down, the boy sat across from her.

"So, anyway, my name is Thomas. But I go by Tom. And what are you called, lovely?"

"None of your business. Now, please, shut up!"

"Ouch, that hurts! So, name?"

Aibell sighed, rolled her eyes, and finally gave in. "My name," she whispered, "is Aibell. Just so you know."

"Aibell. The Fairy Queen. Irish mythology. Beautiful name."

"Fairy Queen? What are we, twelve?" Aibell questioned.

"Do you dye your red hair? I doubt it's naturally that black."

"I don't have red hair!" Aibell hissed, her face turning red.

"Was your mother also a red head?"

"I-"

"And those cute freckles... And green eyes... Tell me, do you have any Irish in your family?"

"I-I don't know! My parents are from London!"

"Hmmm... Well, Aibell, it's very nice to meet you."

"Of course."

"Now, tell me something."

"What?"

"How is dear old Marcus?"

"Excuse me?" Aibell whispered, her eyes wide. "How do you-"

"This is your stop, you might want to get off," Tom said, smirking. "I'll be seeing you very, very soon, I'm sure."

"Freak," Aibell said through her teeth before standing up and practically running off the bus.

Later that afternoon, Aibell's father finally came home, looking satisfied, for some reason.

"Oh, you're awake," her dad said, noticing that Aibell was sitting on the kitchen counter, a bagel in the toaster. "We're having guests tonight, but you don't have to come down if you're not feeling well, I can bring up your food."

"No, I'm feeling better, actually. After I slept, I got better," Aibell muttered. "Maybe I was just a little sleep deprived."

"Perhaps."

There was a war going on in Aibell's mind. Half of her wanted to tell her dad about the markings, and the other half just wanted her to keep her mouth shut and hide it as long as possible. But then, she realized, someone was bound to see it eventually. Her siblings, maybe. They'd run and tell that she'd gotten a tattoo or something, and then her dad would scream. So, better to just get it out right then and there.

"Dad, something weird happened to me," she said suddenly, pulling up her sleeve before she could even think about what she was doing. The mark was dark against her fair skin, standing out. Her father stared at it, looking almost exactly as Arthur had looked when he saw it. Not concerned at all.

"The people that are... coming over tonight will be able to help you, Aibell," her dad mumbled, looking away. "They're good people, and their willing to take you away for a short period of time to-"

"Take me away?" Aibell shouted, getting to her feet. "What do you mean by that? Take me away from home? Are they going to test on me or something? Is there something wrong with me?"

"No! No, there's just some things you inherited from your mother that only they can explain! When she was your age, she had to go away for a little while, too-"

"A year, didn't she?" Aibell said through her teeth. "That's why she came to America!"

"How did you-"

"Arthur told me! I-I visited him today, because I knew that you'd just send me away if you saw-"

"Arthur knows what has to happen, he remembers Shea! He remembers everything from when we were young, all the things we all went through! You don't even know the half of it."

"Then tell me, for once just tell me!"

"You will know everything in time. For now, I can't say a word."

Silence filled the kitchen, as Aibell stood there, fuming. Finally, she turned and went down the hall to her bedroom. The slammed the door behind her and let the tears fall. Obviously her dad thought there was something wrong with her, he wouldn't be sending her away if he thought otherwise. Who does that, anyway? Sends away their child. She didn't even want to think about it anymore.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aibell played video games, surfed the internet, read parts of a book, almost fell asleep, took a shower, listened to music... Well, she did things that didn't really matter.

Then, at 6:00, after her brothers had come home and the smell of a home cooked meal floated down the hall, there was a knock at the door, and Aibell knew this was it. The last evening she'd spend at home for a long, long time.