Falling Moon

A/N: yay, a new story. This one is set in the modern world, today's time. Contains no swear words, but has drinking and MENTIONS it. (CONTAINS NONE. AT. ALL.) The most romance there is: kissing, that's all.

C/N: There is no note for this chapter.

Preview
Seline Kingsdale is a normal high school teenager at a typical high school. But she has a secret. A terrible secret. Several, actually. And on top of that, she might be the reason why the world is destroying itself.

ZERO
''I have a secret. But you already know that.''

''You know I have several. But right now, I'm telling you one of them.''

Are you ready?

Because if this were your secret, there's no telling how you'd deal with it.

''You know how I'd deal with it. You will know. That's why I wrote this. It's why you're reading this.''

''So. The secret.''

''In exactly eight days and three hours and forty minutes, I'm going to die. ''

''I don't know where. Or how. Only when.''

So what, you say. I'm really sorry for you, but I...don't...know...you. Now. If you'll excuse me. I have a science essay to worry about.

''What if I told you that when I died, you would, too? And so would your best friend. Your parents. Your science teacher. Everyone. Not just people you know, but everyone.''

''You're stunned. Your mouth is gaping open (close it, you'll catch flies). Not possible, you insist.'' You're just tricking me.

Wrong.

I think.

''Are you willing to find out? I'm not. ''

''So. Now I've caught your interest.''

''That's one of my secrets, out in the open. One down. Eight to go.''

ONE
"Seline! Wait. Up." I pretended not to hear. Anna caught up anyway. "You are so not mad...right?" She was doing her eyelashes trick. I looked at the ground, at the swirling green vines doodled on my binder, at Keith Northwood. Anywhere but her. I could never resist her eyelashes trick.

"Anna." Annoyance was obvious on my face. "You got me in detention. Again. Of course I'm not mad," I said sarcastically.

"Don't worry, girl, I'll get you out again." She slung an arm around my shoulder.

I pushed her arm off. "You always say that."

"I always do."

"I have detention with Mr. Freaking. Lester. There is no getting out of that."

"You could always, like, not show up," Anna said wickedly. "Don't forget the party at--" she lowered her voice and wiggled her fingers "--Thomas Fullerton's. Toniiiiight."

"If I don't show up, I get double detention."

"Never show up, then."

"He'll fail me."

"Sure about that?"

"Yes. Why, you want me to ask him?"

Anna snorted. "Um. Hello. Nooo. Give you ten dollars if you do, though."

"No, you won't." I paused. Screw Lester, I was about to say, but the harsh ringing of the bell cut me off.

Anna smiled. "Ooh, there goes the bell. Gotta jet. And you are coming, right?" Her brown eyes searched mine. For a moment, I thought I saw something in them. Sympathy, understanding...but then she averted her eyes. "I'm picking you up anyway! Seven-thirty." Without waiting, she dashed into down the hallway.

I headed toward History. My teacher, Mr. Traylor, is the worst teacher I have this year. He has a potbelly and a fat mouth that's always smiling or smirking, I can never get the difference with him. And he flirts with just about everyone, even--eww--Ms. Lafford, the forever-frowning lunch lady.

The rest of the day passed in a blink. Then I was in Calculus, watching the minute hand tick steadily toward three-thirty. Then the bell would ring. Then school would be over. And then I would have detention with Mr. Lester. Or would I? Should I skip or not?

I figured detention would last until four-thirty--an hour, at least. Thomas Fullerton lived around half an hour away from my house, not to mention that I had to get ready. But I did not want Anna and Harper going to Just Now without me. It's a tradition we have. Every time there was a big event--parties count--we'd go to Just Now and order frozen yogurt.

I pulled out my phone, keeping it hidden, and texted Anna and Harper. ''Detention w Lester. Don't go 2 JN w/out me, k? Moments later, texts returned from Anna: Saves me from having 2 get u out, and Harper chimed in with: Ruining tradition, girl. Save u a scoop, no worries.''

The bell rang then, saving me from having to change my mind. With a sigh, I headed toward detention with Mr. Lester.

The Last Party Ever
As it turned out, going to detention probably saved my life.

I finished the extra work Lester assigned super fast, then waited what seemed like an hour for him to check it. Finally, he said, "You may go, Miss Kingsdale. Have a good evening."

I didn't even bother thanking him, the formalities and that crap. I just rushed out of there.

Minutes later, I slid into a booth at Just Now opposite Anna and Harper, who smirked and said, "Why the rush there, Miss Kingsdale? I'm afraid I'll have to give you detention for running down the aisles. Now sit down and eat your Fro-Yo."

Anna waved hello. "Stop doing that old-principal imitation. Frickin' scary. That could be Mrs. Winters. Right. There. Behind you."

Harper widened her eyes in mock horror. "And is that Mr. Traylor with her? Eww. Gross. I swear, they're kissing now. Oh. My." She clutched her chest and gazed at an empty booth.

Anna shrieked with laughter and nearly dropped her frozen yogurt. "Mr. Traylor just did something tooootally inappropriate...ooohh, there he goes again! Slip. Squeeze. Hope she's got nice ones, Traylor! Biiiiig. Like, two watermelons. Oh, yeah." She blew a kiss at the empty booth.

I ignored them and picked up my cone. Two frozen cherries were balanced neatly at the tip, just how I liked them. Anna and Harper were still hooting and giving a commentary on what the imaginary teachers were "doing". More than one table shot them dirty looks.

"Yo! You guys." I threw my balled-up napkin at Anna's head. "Pipe down. We are going to get thrown out. Get drunk at the party, 'kay?"

"Drunk?" Anna giggled and threw the napkin back at me. "We are not drunk."

"High, maybe." Harper said, then gave an earsplitting shriek. "Ah, crap! It's five already! I have to, like, get ready."

"Not so fast!" I said through a mouthful of frozen yogurt.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Seliiiine. Are you trying to get fat? I mean, hello, good impressions, because Keith's going to be there. Aaand David Laydon. Oooh, and Robert Weiss--"

I nearly spit my yogurt out. "Robert Weiss? Who said anything about Robert Weiss?" It was sad, my inability to secure a boyfriend. Anna teased me endlessly about it.

"Okay, maybe not Robert Weiss," said Anna. "But what about--"

I stood up abruptly and tossed a twenty on the table. "Let's go."

Harper snickered. I pointed at the two. "You want a ride or not?"

"My house," said Anna quickly. "We went to Harpers' last time."

"Relax," I cut in. "We have enough time. Seven-thirty, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, Miss Time Management. So Harper can spend two hours getting ready."

"Like you don't do the same, Madame Fashionably Late," I retorted. "But we'll be faster...so you and Braden Engel can have time together. Tonight's the night, right?"

"No time like the present," Harper chimed in.

Then Anna had to say, "Love at the party, not in the house," but she was choking on laughter and couldn't get the words out. Instead she made kissing noises at the car behind us and moaned, "Oh, Braden, Braden, wherefore art thou, Braden?"

Harper grinned. "Didn't know you knew Shakespeare, nerd."

"Only that bit, genius."

"Because they all die at the end," I said. "Hmm. Sounds familiar."

"TURN!" Anna shrieked suddenly. I slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel, narrowly avoiding the street signpost. The outer left wheel scraped against the curb. I stomped on the gas and we sped down the street, well outside the speed limit, burning rubber, pulling to an abrupt halt two blocks later.

"I just died a little bit," said Harper dramatically. "What was that all about?" She made the cuckoo sign with two fingers.

"Hello. You missed the turn. You know, to my house? Sorry, you almost missed it, if not for me." Anna bared her teeth in a grin. "Who gave you a driving license? Seriously, Seline."

"I would like a ten-second warning next time, please," I said, and Anna leaned forward to turn on the air conditioning, complaining about the heat of the car, and I pretended to be insulted, and Harper rolled down her window, closed her eyes, enjoying the cool air, exaggeratedly fanning her face, and I laughed and there was a sudden roar. Not like a lion's roar, but louder, and I felt it as well as heard it, and suddenly the house we were driving past exploded.

Screams punctuated the air simultaneously. You know in books and movies, they always say they hadn't realized they were screaming, but they were the loudest? Right now I could do nothing but scream, so loud I couldn't hear myself, and Anna and Harper with me, and I completely lost control of the car, wasn't driving or braking or anything. My hands were limp on the wheel and I could only see flashes: a tree, the curb, the road--when the roaring and screaming stopped, were sucked into a vacuum and dissipated, vanished, just like that.

I realized I was supposedly driving a car and shakily parked it by the curb, ignoring the sign that said No parking MON-SAT 2PM-2AM, twisted around to face a shaken Harper and Anna when the roar swelled up again, and it was in my hears, my head, I could feel my heart booming to the beat and the house to our direct right was gone, exploded, boom. I didn't give anyone time to scream, just wheeled away and I was driving on autopilot to Anna's house, but Anna and Harper screamed anyway.

My car was idling in Anna's driveway. I shut the engine off, slid the keys into my purse, and pushed the door shut behind me. It was silent, almost peaceful outside. We all stood there, surrounding the car, for beat and then Harper said, "What was that about?"

"The ninja assassins," said Anna. "They've found us. Agent Harper, gather your belongings. We're making a getaway to Agent Fullerton's safe house."

It wasn't the time to be funny, but I needed it. We needed it. Harper looked like she didn't know whether to giggle or cry or both. I took up the act. "Do you have emergency bag ready, Agent Harper? Agent Anna?"

Anna saluted and said, "Yes, ma'am," at the same time that Harper said, "No, ma'am."

I wiggled my eyebrows. "Get your things then, on the double! I'm going to..." I wasn't sure what to say. Anna was the one who watched all the violent, James Bond movies. Harper and I stuck with chick-flicks.

"Radio Command C," Anna said helpfully. "We're going to draw up an emergency plan to throw off the ninja assassins."

The door to her house opened then, and her mom called out, "Are you girls just going to stand there?"

I started laughing then. I'm not sure what was funny--Anna, or her mom, or the explosions, which weren't funny, but I laughed anyway. Harper looked at me like ''Really? You're laughing'' now? But a beat later, she and Anna were laughing too, then looking at Anna's mom guiltily like they were going to be arrested. I should've stopped then, but I couldn't stop laughing. It took a few tries to get it under control.

Mrs. Lenridge sighed. "When are you coming back from the party?"

"I don't know. Eleven to twelve, one, maybe?" Anna shrugged. "Thomas Fullerton's never hosted a party before."

"Have fun, girls." Mrs. Lenridge disappeared into the house.

~wolflowolf~

We ransacked, turned inside-out, completely destroyed Anna's closet. As tradition, we didn't do our nails, never did. I'm not sure how it started, but at our school, practically no one does their nails. Stupid, pointless, but anyone who breaks this is shunned. I never say it's stupid. Anna and Harper acted like it's the Eleventh Commandment. Anna insisted that she drove, and no one said really why, the actual reason, but instead we joked about how my license should be invoked. Harper called shotgun before me, and I said to Anna, "Nothing better happen to my car while it's in your driveway."

"Make sure the glove compartment's locked," said Harper. "You never know, Mrs. Lenridge might go looking for weed or crap in your car."

Anna made a noise between a snort and a giggle. "Condoms."

Harper laughed and smacked her. "Only in this car." We went back and forth, teasing and joking the whole way, and Anna nearly swerved into the wrong lane. "I'm driving on the way back, because none of you can drive drunk or sober," said Harper.

An hour late to the party, with Macklemore, blasting from somewhere, rattling the entire house. We ascended the stairs, the music booming and swelling and rocking the floorboards. Harper waved at someone, said, "See you later," went off into the crowd.

Anna half-turned and brightened. "It's Braden! Think he'll get me a drink?"

"If you ask for one." I was scanning the crowd for someone. I wasn't sure who. Deep down, I knew I who I was really looking for, but I refused to admit it. Just someone...someone. I turned back to Anna, but she was gone, probably with Braden.

"Hey! Seline."

I froze. I knew that voice. When was the last time the person it belonged to had called my name? Only...

"Glad you made it here," he said. "Here with a date?"

It was a snub, and we both knew it.

"Oh, no." I turned around, stiffly, like I was a marionette being controlled by a two-year-old, giving him my sweetest smile. "He dropped out. Wimp. But more for me, right?" I lied.

He gave me a half-smile back. "You got it," he murmured absently. "Have fun. Tell Fullerton I've been looking for him."

"Okay." He wasn't waiting for my answer and vanished into the crowd. There was so much people here; everywhere I turned I was blocked by someone dancing, someone drinking, someone laughing, people snogging. I took a few wrong turns and found myself in the kitchen. Thomas Fullerton was monkey guarding the keg; he turned, saw me, raised the paper cup he was holding. "Hey, there."

I had no intention of delivering his message. Instead I nodded to him and grabbed a cup.

"Bud or Heineken?" Thomas asked.

"You're serious?" I squinted at him. "You got two kegs of those? Got them cheap or something?"

Thomas pointed his finger down. "All in the basement. We have the works here. I have Châteaunneuf, too, if you want some. Probably not, though. Kyle had an allergic reaction or crap to it."

"Bud is fine." I filled my cup. We talked some more and I decided, Heck, why not. "Putner said he's looking for you."

"Oh...that." Thomas paled. "Well, that's--"

"Seline! I've been looking for you." Harper was there, taking me by the wrist, dragging me down the hall.

"Hey!" I protested. "What are you doing? I've got, like, places to be. You know...meet you at the spot, half past ten o' clock." I sang along with the song as it came on over the speakers.

"No, you don't." Harper almost tripped on thin air. Definitely drunk. I pulled away.

"Catch you later. Tell Anna to pull herself out of Braden's mouth or whatever." I knew she wouldn't tell her, but worth a shot.

Mos Def's Napoleon Dynamite was blaring now. I joined the throng of people in the next room, all dancing and drinking and laughing. I saw Lora Sweetman, who was dancing like there was no tomorrow, and belting out the lyrics. "Hey, Seline!" she yelled over the music. "Like the party? Alan Klosky's playing deejay."

"No way!"

Alan Klosky: black hair that had never seen a haircut, thick round-frame glasses and an overload of thick textbooks. He was the pro Mathlete, science fair champion, bio whiz, whatever. He also had a weird twitchy, stutter-like way of speaking. He was the last person I'd expect to be a deejay, but I guess it's kind of mathematical--if you think about it. I didn't even know he knew about the party, the way he was always buried in that fact-figure-formula-world of his.

"Way." Lora leaned in close to me. "They say he's even drunk, too. Sherman got it on video."

I clapped a hand over my mouth. "Oh my turtle." Anna had decided that oh my gosh was too boring last year. "YouTube. Now."

"Totally," said Lora. She looked like she was going to say something else, but at that moment:

"Seline!"

Harper was there--again, standing there, and then she was dragging me through the crowd. A wave of annoyance washed over me. "C'mon!" I leaned close to her. "What's your problem? Party. Fun. Let loose a little."

She shook her head. Eyes, wide and worried; I froze up and iced over. "What happened?"

"The...you know, the explosions." Harper whispered the word like she might explode herself. "Remember, they only exploded when you drove past them, or when we were beside them, and you left your car..."

She didn't need to finish; I knew what she was getting at, and all traces of irritation, annoyance that I had dissipated. I shivered; in my mind's eye I saw Anna, her house: sun-warm bricks on the driveway, yellow-orange and purple bulbs surrounded by green leafy crowns ("My mom loves to garden," she'd said); and blinking blue eyes, complaining about how stupid PE had messed up her hair, her brilliant gold-copper hair, again.

"Anna," I said. Didn't have the strength to shriek and scream or anything. Just grabbed Harper's arm. "Is she okay?"

Harper didn't pull away, didn't squirm, didn't complain about my tight grip. She looked at me, and I couldn't read her expression when she was usually an open book.

"Not Anna," said Harper. "Her neighbour. Number fifty-three."

Jessica Spingfew.

Here it is
Here's a secret.

Once, I walked in on Marcus Putner and Jessica Spingfew kissing. Like, kissing kissing, and it was very passionate kissing.

It was at someone's party, a year ago or so, I don't remember which party. They were in one of those half-hidden rooms that you feel proud of yourself for finding, because you think only you would look behind those inconspicuous doors that blend in with the walls. Both their eyes were closed, and I don't think they even heard me.

We'll never find out, because I stood there for about a second, gaping, and then I quietly, calmly exited the room, making sure to slam the door as hard as possible. And then I was swallowed up by everyone milling around in the hallway, but I was still close enough to hear the banging noise and Jessica swearing in the room.

Okay, you think. ''Two people kissing. At a party. Great. No. Big. Deal.''

Remember my inability to secure a boyfriend? Well, I was kind-of-dating Marcus Putner, once. Anna and Harper didn't know. In fact, I was planning to tell them. "So," I'd say to Anna, "I found a boyfriend. I'm dating Marcus Putner." And I imagined the stunned look on her face, followed by excited squeals, and such.

Actually, Marcus and I just went to a movie, but as friends, and friends only. We were friends from grade two, but we drifted apart at middle school. And then we went to a carnival and a movie. He held my hand, and I couldn't wait for him to ask me out not as a friend, but then he told me he was dating...someone. I can't remember her name, not even now.

In his words: ''It doesn't matter. We were never together anyway.''

Right, Marcus, in your words.

Of course, I couldn't tell Anna that I kind-of-dated Marcus Putner and then he broke up with me, only not really since we weren't together. So I just kept the whole thing secret.

But, I'm pretty sure the name he told me...the person he said he was dating...was not Jessica Spingfew.

Whenever I thought of Marcus, I thought of the giant pink cotton candy bag that we split, and his cracked glasses falling three stories to the grey pavement six years ago, but most of all, I see his eyes closed and his mouth against someone else's and I hear Jessica swearing.

~wolflowolf~

I used to read a lot.

Romance, sci-fi, thriller, even the classics. I went through a post-apocalypse phase once, reading every Apocalypsie I could get my hands on. Even 1984 (George Orwell).

I never, ever told Anna and Harper. Looking back, there was a lot of things I kept from them, my best friends, even though we never lie to each other. But it wasn't lying, really--I never once said I hate books or I don't read or I think books are lame. It's not lying if you don't say it.

Right?

If I told them, they'd pair me with Alan Klosky and ditch me at the Mathletes table at lunch and slip old ratty textbooks into my locker as a joke. We did that to Jana Limmons once, who always carried a book everywhere, even to lunch, and was once seen reading a university math textbook. For fun, she said. To improve my math grade.

Even I had to admit, it was pretty ridiculous. But I hated laughing at her with Anna, because she was dissing all the books Jana read, and they were books I had secretly read and secretly loved. I never dissed the books, or Jana. I loved every book she was seen holding, and I fought the urge to go up to her at times and say Ember Miller is my favourite character.

Over time, I stopped reading, afraid someone was going to see me going to the public library, or bookstore. I even stopped buying eBooks--what if Harper came over and saw all those shelves on my Kindle? What would she say?

I'd never forget my post-apocalypse phase. In my mind, I'd made a mental list of every way possible the world could end, and every way possible we would carry on, rebuild the Earth.

TWO
I just never imagined this would happen.

I woke up to the sound of a door closing. I opened my eyes: white, so much I got dizzy. I blinked once. White walls, white floor, the bed I was lying on was white--wait. Bed?

"Are you feeling okay?" Marcus strode across the room.

"Um...yeah," I said. "Why...am I in your house?"

He laughed. "No." That was all the answer he gave. "What do you remember?"

The party. Dancing. Harper, the explosions, Anna, Jessica Spingfew. And that was it. No memory of falling asleep and going to a different world. "Where am I?"

"Safe," he said shortly.

I bit my lip. "Did you give me a date rape drug or something?" I started babbling, like I did when I was nervous. "And then, bring me somewhere and hope to--ugh, eww, gross, Marcus. I really shouldn't put anything past you anymore, why would you even do that? I can't believe you--"

"Seline," said Marcus softly. "I didn't drug you. I'm not trying to whatever. I know you don't remember this, but..."

He took out his iPhone and hit Voice Recorder. The faint sound of music I couldn't make out came on for a few seconds, and then his voice, warped and tinny through the phone's speaker:

"Seline. Are you okay?"

My voice, sounding shaky, strained. "Yes. I'm...fine."

"I'm going to take you somewhere safe, okay? Do you trust me?"

"...No. Just leave me alone, Marcus."

"Here. I'll give you a drink. It'll help you to sleep."

"I just want to fall asleep and never wake up." I sounded so desperate.

"Take it," Recording Marcus said. "It'll help you."

The music continued on for a few beats, then the sound of someone breathing heavily. Faint laughter swelling up, covering the music. Silence.

"That never happened," I said forcefully. "What did you give me? Why are you doing this?"

"You'll get answers," said Marcus. "But not now. Go to sleep, Seline. It's..." He looked at his watch. "It's two in the morning. You need the rest."

I opened my mouth to say something, but he shut the door. The white seemed to grow and expand all around me until I was looking at a wide expanse of it, glittering and gleaming, and I ran until I was dizzy and fell to the ground, where sleep was waiting to catch me in its arms.

Questions and Answers
Or are they?

When I woke, there was a plate of food waiting for me. A chicken burger, a salad and two sugar cookies with a bottle of water. I was nibbling on the cookie when the door opened. Marcus stood in the doorway, his feet just past the entrance to the White Room--that's what I called it now.

"Are you ready for some answers?" he asked.

"Can I finish my cookie?"

He sighed. "You can finish your cookie."

I finished my cookie.

"Now, come with me. The person you're meeting has all the answers you want, so show some respect."

Dubiously, I hung back. "Are you sure?"

Marcus was exasperated. "We can play this game all day, Seline. You can come with me, or stay in here. For a long. Long. Time."

"I still don't believe you."

"We're trying to keep you safe here," he scowled.

"Safe from what? You keep saying that, but I'm not in danger." I started to grow irritated. "Let me ask you a question, just so I can trust you. Did you have anything to do with the explosions?"

Marcus stiffened. He's going to say no, I thought, and an odd look crossed his face, and he looked me in the eye and said, "No." His shoulders flexed, like he was free of some kind of burden. "We didn't have anything to do with them," said Marcus. "But other people did. And we're trying to keep you safe from them. Because they want you dead."

I stared at him and he stared back. Then he extended a hand. "You wanted answers," said Marcus, "and we're giving them to you. Are you coming?"

I took his hand. "I'm coming."

He wasn't much older than we were, twenty-three or twenty-four. His face was calm and pleasant, half-hidden by his black hair. Marcus introduced him as Donegal.

"Seline," he said warmly, smiling. "I know you and Marcus have gotten to a rough start. I also understand this might be a little confusing for you, this sudden turn of events. Would you like to call your parents?"

My parents. My dad, out who knows where, doing who knows what. And my mom, who was probably lying down with a headache. Or crying her heart out.

"No, thanks," I said. "My family is...well..."

I ran out of words and floundered for the right ones, but Donegal nodded understandingly. "I get you. Well, then. Let's hop to it. So, what do you know so far?"

"Marcus gave me something at the party," I replied, hesitantly. "I have no memory of it...and then I woke up here. And apparently there are people who want me dead...and you're protecting me from them?"

"Sort of," said Donegal. "You know the explosions, obviously. There's an...organization, for lack of a better name. They were behind the explosions. You're here because we want to protect you. We've been watching you, behind-the-scenes, for a while now, but they made the first move, and so we had to interfere."

I grasped at any solid straws. "So, you're an organization, too?"

"Of sorts," said Donegal. "Mainly, we're a research institute. We have all sorts of branches though. We mostly focus on science, but we've got an Initiative branch. We're called Retox. I'm sorry, I can't tell you much more than that. A lot of what we do is classified, and you're not a member."

"Marcus is?"

"He is, and a good one at that. One of the younger ones in this department. About the organization that tried to kill you, well, we don't know much about them. They're scientists, like us, but a ragtag group. Broke off from other institutes and formed their own merry band. They are dangerous--what materials they have could be made into dangerous weapons. We try and stop them, but there's no telling what they're up to."

I frowned. "But why would they want to kill me? That's ridiculous."

Donegal ran his hand through his hair. His face seemed to grow haggard and weary, cast in shadow. "That's the hard part," he admitted. "How do I put this..."

"Just say it, please." I'd had enough of people stalling, pussyfooting, whatever. I wanted the full, honest truth.

"Very well. In a nutshell, the world is going to end. We're not sure how, we only know when. We also know why."

Pause.

"You," said Donegal. "You're the cause of the apocalypse. Your existence is the reason why the world is going to end. The other organization is trying to use that to their advantage. They want to end the world sooner. With you."

I groped in the darkness, searching for something to hold on to. At last, I discovered my voice. "How is that possible?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you the full answer, Seline. You'll have to speak with Doctor Caratun, our head scientist. He's the expert on this field."

I opened my mouth and closed it again. I must have looked like a gaping fish. Donegal just sat there, looking at me with piercing but soft eyes, calm and collected. "All I can tell you is that there's something in your genetics. Doctor Caratun will be back tomorrow; he's out on a project today. Would you like to go back to your quarters?"

I looked him in the eye. "Am I still confined there?"

Donegal looked surprise. "Of course not. Only for the time being, although I wouldn't go so far to call it being confined. You see, this is the main Retox building, and some of the things we do, well, they're classified. You're not an official member of the Retox institute, so by protocol, we're not supposed to let you see. You might also wander into the more dangerous parts of the building without proper protection. After you talk with Doctor Caratun, though, we'll move you to the dormitory. Does that sound good?"

"It's fine," I sighed.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I have an offer to make you. I know I must have sounded infuriating, talking about how you need to be a Retox member to do this, to do that." He chuckled. "So, Seline, how would you like to become part of Retox? You can help us figure out that great mystery--yourself--and stop the others from attempting to destroy the world." Donegal laughed, like it was a funny joke.

"I...I...maybe," I stammered.

"All in good time. Marcus will get you tomorrow to see Doctor Caratun."

I glanced toward the heavy wooden doors. Marcus was waiting outside.

"Oh, don't worry," said Donegal, misinterpreting my look. "This room is soundproof. He didn't hear anything."

"Okay." I nodded and stood to leave. "Thank you for telling me...all this. I need time to think." I struggled to keep that mask of indifference on my face and shoved the door with my shoulder, where Marcus was waiting.

Then I was back in the White Room, where no one could hear me, and then I sank onto the bed. A million thoughts were blaring in my head, and one by one I shut them out and embraced sleep, slipping into that soft and dark world that held my only comfort.

~wolflowolf~

There's that state when you're kind of sleeping and kind of awake--half and half. If you're dreaming, then your mind combines dreams with reality. My dream/nightmare went like this:

There was a field of black grass, just an infinite field. I was standing in the middle, and I felt like I should run, but I couldn't. The grass around my legs grew taller and taller, thicker and thicker, winding themselves around my legs and still growing upwards, thickening into a black cocoon. I knew I was going to suffocate but I just stood there, letting the grass cover me.

And then I grew wings, with feathers as sharp as razors, slicing through the heavy grass, and I flew until I was level with the moon and couldn't fly anymore and feathers started falling off my wings until they were gone. I fell to the earth, disappointed that the moon wasn't there to catch me, but I realized: I wasn't falling. The moon was. It dropped like a stone and shattered into a thousand white butterflies, which flew up around me and into my eyes and nose until I could see and feel nothing but white.

Bang.

I reached my arm out to find the source of the noise, and a white gun materialized in my hand. "Shoot yourself, Seline," said Marcus's voice. "You have to do it."

My tongue felt thick and heavy. "No," I grunted/croaked. "I don't want to."

"Really?" said Marcus, in a much louder voice. "I thought you wanted to talk to Doctor Caratun. Donegal says you can see him after you eat."

I cracked an eyelid open. "What?"

"I said, you can see Doctor Caratun after you eat. Donegal said you had some questions from yesterday?"

"Yes." No. I didn't even want to think about it.

"Well, there's food here if you want some. I'll be back in twenty minutes." Marcus left.

Breakfast--if it really was--contained bacon, scrambled eggs, a muffin and bottled water. I ate it all, realizing how hungry I was, and joined Marcus outside, also aware of how dirty I was. I didn't know how much time had really passed, but no shower or change of clothes for at least a day. Ewwww.

Say Doctor Caratun. Think old man, lab coat, thick glasses, heavy white hair. My mouth probably hung open as I considered a young man--no glasses--with copper hair and bright green eyes. For an odd moment, I considered taking a picture and sending it to Anna and Harper for their inspection. Did I even have a phone anymore? Probably not.

"Uh...hi," I said awkwardly.

He smiled at me. "Donegal said you had questions?"

Donegal said, Donegal said. Donegal had answers. I had questions.

"Yeah...uh..." my brain was doing that shut-down thing, but not because he was cute. It was because, well...

"He told you already, didn't he?" Doctor Caratun nodded sympathetically. "I can imagine. I mean, if it were me at the end of the line, I'd think it was a crazy, crazy, dream. So I guess you want to know how it works?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I have a file on it, but I'll give you the basics and how we discovered it. Are you ready?"

I could do nothing but nod mutely.

Much Ado About My Family
We interrupt your program to give you my sad excuse for a family, and my life sob-story.

Once upon a time, a wonderful man met a wonderful woman and they fell in love and got married and had a baby.

Sad to say, that's not the story of my family. Simon Kingsdale was a deejay, who was I guess popular in the city he lived in. His parents, who were old-school and snobby, disapproved and tried to make him get a science degree or some crap like that. Probably because he went to a science academy and came out as the top student. He went to an arts university instead. His parents didn't disown him, but from when I met my grandparents, they were definitely on the cold side, but that may be for another reason.

He met my mom, Morgan Jennings, at the university. Rather, outside of it. She had applied for a scholarship and was turned down, and so her family was too poor to send her to university. But every time she passed it she would stop and gaze at the campus, at everyone rushing about, imagining life if she had been accepted. That's what Morgan told Simon. He invited her to help him at a gig, and she accepted.

When he finished his third year at university, Simon dropped out to become a deejay full time, instead of just part-time, earning further disapproval from his parents. Morgan, who'd studied graphic designing, found a job making album covers and posters for semi-famous artists, including ads for my dad. A few years later--two, maybe three--Simon's parents kicked him out.

With no money, he crashed at Morgan's apartment, which was small and barely livable. He continued to deejay, and helped Morgan pay the bills, especially when she started getting financial trouble and was on the verge of losing the apartment. They pulled through, but only barely.

His parents refused to help, and her parents had no money to send. Simon's parents probably thought they were a couple or something, and that they'd done it, crap like that, what with the fact that they lived together, and everything.

Actually, he slept on a couch.

Alone.

But his parents were right, because fast forward five years and they were getting married. By now, they had a decent-sized place and Morgan had found another job. Simon was a "...real, professional deejay with a real, professional record label!..." according to the Neon Flash website.

And then.

There was an earthquake.

Which was really. Really. Bad.

Neon Flash was shut down. After two years of playing deejay at school dances, parties, theme parks, clubs, and concerts, earning reasonable pay, Dad lost his job. Mom lost her job. Their apartment was destroyed, and they were living in a government protection house (GPH), one of the many issued to the now-homeless earthquake survivors. It was all right, seeing as there were many homeless survivors, but seeing as Mom was about to have a baby...

Mom was totally against abortion (if she had, I wouldn't be alive to tell you this story.) They didn't have the money to pay any medical bills. And the GPHs were temporary, to a limit of three months. At two months twenty-six days, Dad's parents finally contacted him.

Son, you've strayed far from the line but managed to take a few decent steps back toward it in the last two years, their email read. ''We're proud of you and here you've been in some troubling times. Perhaps you and Morgan would like to come live with us until you find a house. We can help you financially, and we want to meet your baby son.''

What could they do but agree?

Three things happened.

One. My grandparents expected a son. Instead, Mom gave birth to me--and, just to get this out there, I'm female.

Two. They found out how much money Mom and Dad had left ($175.00, a lot less than they originally thought.)

Three. Dad found a temporary job at a science lab near their home.

Remember those three things.

~wolflowolf~

Now, present day. Dad's always on some business trip--he works at this research institute now. Three months ago, I heard he was going to Slovakia. I'm not sure where he is now.

Mom came down with a really bad sickness some time along the line. She's fine, but gets horrible headaches now and then. When not clutching her temples, she's in bed anyway, or in the bathroom, sobbing and crying about...something.

I'm just thankful I'm an only child.

It would be way, way worse if I had siblings.

They'd die out.

Or something.

I guess, this is my next secret.

Why? you ask. How is this a secret?

This is why:

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Everything is connected.