Jynxed

Prologue 1:

June 21,1985; 7:36 pm; Bay View Hospital,

Conquest Valley, South of Duncan, SC, 29334



"Congratulations," the doctor told them. "Twins."



Both of the girls were shrilly screaming, but one was clearly louder than the other. The girls were completely identical, with bright, clear blue eyes and dark hair. One of them was much smaller than the other, weighed much less. Dr. Anelyn frowned as he looked over the data, and Lea glanced up from her larger daughter, Annaliese. The stronger one.



"What's wrong?" she asked. "Something's wrong." A touch of panic entered her strained voice. Kenneth reached over and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, looking into her sharp gray eyes.



"I'm sure everything's fine, Lea," he said softly.



She looked worried still. "...Dr. Anelyn? Is everything okay." Her voice was forced now, almost angry. Her arms tightened ever so slightly around the older twin and she narrowed her eyes. Dr. Anelyn's eyes flicked to Kenneth before he answered, reaching over and gingerly taking the weaker twin into his arms; Jacklin.



"I'm going to have to run some tests on this one, if that's alright?"



Jacklin started in a racking fit of coughs, then returned to her feeble and rasping breaths. She opened her eyes and watched the doctor out of the corner of her newborn eyes, eyed him suspiciously, then exhaustedly let them close again.



"I have some bad news," Dr. Anelyn said gravely when he returned with the results of the tests. Without the baby. Lea looked up at Kenneth, alarmed. He kept his own eyes fixed darkly on Dr. Anelyn.



"Where is she?" he asked quietly. It was a clear threat, and it administered as so in his emerald-colored eyes. "Is she..."



"What's the bad news?" Lea whispered, barely audible in the soundless room as she interrupted her husband before they could jump to conclusions.



"Well." Dr. Anelyn started, licking his lips nervously. He didn't want to cross Kenneth's path, and with good reason. His own eyes darted around the room. He was the best doctor around for the job, but he had reason to be nervous. He cleared his throat and started again. "Well, when Jacklin was in the womb, she wasn't getting enough nutrition. It seemed that Annaliese had been developing much faster than Jacklin was, almost as if Jacklin didn't start to develop at all until Annaliese reached the fetus stage. Jacklin wasn't ready, and now her organs are barely strong enough to support her."



Lea looked down at Annaliese in shock, accusingly, even though she knew it wasn't her fault. Annaliese opened her eyes and stared up at Lea, dazed, confused. She let out a little yawn as her eyes lazily drooped back shut.



"One...one more thing." Dr. Anelyn cleared his throat again. "She...doesn't appear to have any magic. At all. I don't think she will survive."



Kenneth tensed immediately and Lea froze. Suddenly Annaliese screamed as if she sensed something was completely wrong, and something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Kenneth suddenly shouted out a spell and his daughter vanished.



"Ken!" Lea screamed, reaching up for him, but he was already out the door, racing through the hallway as the alarm began to sound.



Downstairs in one of the incubators, there was a tiny baby girl, lying completely still with her eyes wide open. The blue irises darted around nervously before rolling completely into the back of her head. Her tiny mouth snapped open and she let out an earsplitting cry, like a phoenix. Her back arched and her fist clutched at the soft white blanket.



Anyone around fell to their knees with their hands clapped over their ears in pain. A wail arose from the other children, but the cry continued still. The glass over the incubator suddenly shattered, and Jacklin's tiny fram was enveloped in bright green light as power emanated from her.



Kenneth knew he was too late. He pointed his hand and shouted another teleportation spell, into a room to his left, then fell to his knees, pulling a cart in front of him, even though he knew it was futile.



Five minutes later, all was silent. The entire hospital was gone, as was the entire canyon that surrounded. The ash was cooled by the haunting wind, and the only sound that could be heard was the soft cries of one newborn baby, lying on a soft cotton blanket. Her bright eyes were still open, no longer the sweet, soft blue, but a penetrating and emerald green, staring at the first glimpse of the world.





Prologue 2:

June 21, 1985; 7:36 pm; 1465 Delmonte Way,

Conquest Valley, South of Duncan, SC, 29334



Six miles from there, at the same moment, a young couple sat on a porch swing, proudly watching their three sons playing in the front yard. "Don't be too rough on Robin, he's only half a year old," Ariel called to her oldest son, Shaun.



Eight-year-old Shaun rolled his eyes, stopped and grinned. His mother always seemed to be reminding him of his younger brothers' ages. "Don't worry, Ma! He's built like us! Strong and tough!"



Little Robin burst into tears because he stubbed his toe on a rock.



"So much for that thought," Logan grumbled as he got up to comfort him. Robin always knew best; he hobbled over to his parents, his sobs subsiding into hiccups as he blinked obliviously.



Ariel scooped him up with a laugh. Robin's chocolaty brown curls dominated most of his head, and they bounced as he rocked back and forth in his mother's arms. Logan set to separating his other sons; Shaun, who was eight and Eric, who was five. The two had been playing flag football and the tackling was beginning to get out of hand.



Robin suddenly perked up, yelled something in gibberish and pointed with his chubby little hand at something in the distance.



"What do you see?" Ariel asked him humorously, looking down at him fondly.



"Da!" he replied seriously, jabbing his chubby finger at the thing in the distance. Ariel followed his gaze and sat up straight.



"Mom! Look at that!" Shaun exclaimed, pointing as well.



"Logan," she gasped, feeling suddenly out of breath. Her green eyes glared at it. "It's a Jynx! That's..."



The green light that had been spotted first by baby Robin was spreading fast toward the little family. "Everybody inside," Logan answered, shoving his other two sons toward the house. They followed without a word.



Ariel stood up. "Into the basement, boys," she cried urgently as they rushed into the house.



"Wait!" Shaun yelled, suddenly remembering. "I left my wand out there!"



"I'll go get it," Logan said valiantly, and he turned to go outside. Ariel stiffened and stopped him.



"No! Logan, you can't go out there! This time...it's...it's a prophecy." She glanced down at little Robin, who looked vaguely concerned.



Logan stared at his wife. "What are you talking about? Shaun needs his--"



Ariel interrupted with a steely look. Then she began to tell her husband a story she herself had tried to forget.





December 21, 1984; exactly 12:00 am; Bay View Hospital



"He is born," the nurse told Ariel and Logan dramatically, and the two wearily beamed at each other. The doctor handed Ariel a beautiful, healthy baby with a thick fuzz of brown hair. He was letting out high pitched wails, his eyes tightly shut against the pain. Time suddenly stopped. Ariel glanced up, looked around. Then she looked down at her newly born son. His face was completely relaxed and he stared up at her calmly, his eyes a weird jade color. Then, as if it wasn't creepy enough, he opened up his tiny mouth and he spoke to her:



"A babe shall be born

As she is not to be

Her power like no other

It is because of he



Thousands shall die that day

By her meager hand

Because of one mistake

As long as she withstands



A further battle with herself

And with a billion others

The world against itself

Must stop before it's smothered



An ultimate enemy with an army

Destroys a peaceful world

A secret no longer kept

By her, the meager girl



If she lives they die

If she takes another breath

To family, which is life

From life, becomes death."



Ariel couldn't think of a word to say. She stared at her third son, completely dumbfounded, terrified. He blinked slowly, and his eyes were back to their dark blue, his expression agonized as he let out a fresh cry. Her mission?



She had to make sure the baby didn't know who she was.





Returning to our first story...



Ariel could see that Logan was having trouble believing her. Shaun and Eric just stared at their parents, unsure of what to do. Ariel couldn't read her husband's dark brown eyes. "This is Shaun's wand," Logan said slowly. "I can get it back before the Jynx reaches us."



"You don't understand," Ariel whispered.



Shaun jumped forward. "I can get a new one," he exclaimed. "That way none of us will get hurt.



"That won't be necessary," Logan told him stiffly. "Just take the baby and get downstairs."



Shaun accepted his brother into his arms and he and Eric went downstairs as his father had told him to do so. Their parents rarely fought, but the few times that they did were about serious things. They were both incredibly stubborn and weren't going to give in easily. Upstairs, the two were still staring it out. It had always been hard to tell who was the winner in fights like these.



"Logan, let's just get downstairs until this passes. I don't want to take any chances," Ariel said nervously but Logan stayed put. Robin yelled something from below. The door was still wide open. Ariel took a deep breath, and finally she said, "Fine, but I'm going to be the one who goes to get it. I can find it faster."



Logan's broad jaw twitched. "Was that a challenge?"



Ariel's bright green eyes widened. "What? No! Please, just go protect the boys!" she was panicking now, and Logan relented, turning away with a scowl.



Ariel abruptly turned to go outside, then immediately saw the problem. "Logan!" she cried, and he took her roughly by the arm, and they both dived under the kitchen table as the light washed over them.



Shaun closed his eyes tightly. Robin began to scream and Eric whimpered beside him. Shaun's eyes closed tightly around his baby brother and he turned to Eric. When everything was quiet upstairs, Shaun told Eric to stay with Robin as he stood up and walked to the stairs. He climbed them slowly, and as he reached the top he grasped the doorknob. His heart was beating rapidly. Opening the door, he risked a peak.



The door fell off its hinges.



Shaun could see all the way around for miles. Everything was completely annihilated. There was rubble, some still on fire, smoldering. The grass, which had once been up to his elbows, was singed to the dirt. Anything that resembled a house was long gone. So were his parents.



Right then and there, Shaun promised himself that he would find whoever did this to his family and that he would kill them himself. In the distance, he could hear the shrill wails of a baby, and that reminded him painfully of Robin. He promised to avenge the lost child. The baby who cried, though he did not know, was the very person of the prophecy that had destroyed his parents. The very person he had just promised to kill.





PART ONE

BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY CHANGED FOREVER





Chapter 1

Jackie

Slave against Slaveholder

County Beach Orphanage



"I just put the ice in," I told Rachael calmly. Her reaction was anything but calm as she sipped the prepared glass of lemonade.



Her expression changed from thoughtful to smug to furious. She spit her sip out  all over me and coughed. "It's lukewarm!" she shouted as she poured the glass out onto my head, pushing me backwards and sending me spinning me onto the hard wall. Then she stalked away, yelling back at me, "Make it again!"



The rest of the kids in the hallway stopped and glanced in my direction, then began to giggle and whisper like little birds. I blinked and sighed.



"Well. That was degrading," I muttered as I bent down to pick up the broken glass.



"Do you need any help?" asked a tentative voice above me, and I looked up to find a kid who was a little shorter than I was. He had curly brown hair and nervous brown eyes. His pale skin was flushed bright pink. He stared down at me, kind of half-smiled, and offered to help again.



I shook my head. "Rachael would kill me if she found out that one of the orphans helped me." I sighed. "Literally."



The kid looked at me with a strange expression. "Why would she do that?"



I smiled sadly. "She's my cousin."



The kid raised his eyebrows and suddenly a glass vase came flying in our direction from down the hallway. I yelled at him, "Duck!!"



He had this ridiculous blank look on his face as he said, "What?"



Long story short, the vase hit him full on the back of his head, he fell forward, whacked his head on the wall, staggered backwards and fell down the stairs.



I stood up. "Are you okay?" I called, alarmed.



There was a crowd of kids around him, and there was one kid who was laughing hysterically. "I told you to meet me down the stairs, not fall down them!" he guffawed.



I jogged down the stairs. "Are you okay?" I asked again, kneeling beside him to try and gauge the damage.



"Aw, he's alright," the kid who was laughing told me. "He's always doing stuff like that."



I shot him a look. "And who are you?"



He wiped tears from his eyes as he replied, "I'm his brother, Eric."



"Well. Eric. Maybe you didn't consider the fact that he could have gotten a concussion?!"



Eric's brother groaned and Eric laughed again. "Wouldn't be the first time," he remarked dryly.



"I'm fine," the other kid coughed out, "really. I'm just...the unluckiest kid here."



I looked him dead in the eye. "Trust me," I told him flatly. "You don't know what unlucky is."



"Jackie!" Rachael called. "I thought I told you to get your ass over here!"



I closed my eyes. "I'm coming."



"Really?" she inquired sarcastically. "Because I could have sworn you're still standing there like an idiot!



I gritted my teeth and stood up. "I told you I was coming, didn't I?" then walked up to her.



She whacked me on the back of my head and scolded me: "Saying is not the same thing as doing. And don't sass me."



I felt my cheeks reddening from embarrassment and I kept my eyes downcast. Rachael smirked with satisfaction and pushed me violently toward the mess that I'd left on the floor literally seconds ago.



"Now clean that up," she snapped, knocking me to the ground, which was sharp with shards of glass. She stalked away. "Then make me a sandwich."



I bit my tongue to keep the hot tears from rising from my throat. My eyes burned with contempt. I carefully dislodged the sharp fragments from my skin and murmured a healing spell.



My past is strange and twisted. I don't often like talking about it, but if I don't, nobody will understand anything about me, my life, or pretty much anything else in this story.



First, let me get this off my chest: I'm a witch. Well, technically, a witch is evil, which I...I don't know, whatever. I'm a spell caster, or a sorceress.



My entire family--the Krowley family--are all wizards and witches, except for a couple of my great cousins or third cousins or whatever the hell you call them. So we're all freaks here--at least, according to your standards.



No comment, moving on.



If you were to look me up, you would either find trillions of results having to do with nothing at all, or maybe possibly something about me. Nothing that you'd believe, anyway. In the wizarding world, I'm actually quite popular. Really, just type in "Jacklin Jynx Krowley."



Here's the story. I remember it quite vividly. I was born on June 21, 1985, the Summer Solstice, at 12:00 am exactly. When my twin sister, Anna and I were born, she was stronger than I was. And bigger. The doctor, whom didn't survive, had run some tests that showed I was magic-less, so I got angry, jealous, and very upset. When he confirmed this 6 floors above my head, it all blew over, and...



Well, I...



Proved him wrong. I exploded.



Few only survived, and that was from teleportation. I remembered it as I was only about...nineteen and a half hours old (I'm aware that sounds weird--it has something to do with the rate that wizard babies mature or something like that.) at like 7:36 pm the same day.



Later, after I annihilated everything ten miles around from my exact location in Bay View Hospital, my aunt and her adopted eight-year-old daughter came to find me.



My aunt owned and operated a dismal orphanage that was soon put into the hands of Rachael, who was ten at the time when my aunt Silvana died. I was two, and she single-handedly took care of me until, at the age of eleven, she got struck with a spell that changed her entire brain wave pattern and made her...well, for lack of a better word, evil.



Since then, I pretty much became her slave. I barely remember what it's like to be...loved.



The scene I just described was where the beginning is. Well, the real beginning was when I was born, I guess...but the point is that it's where I met one of the most important people I would ever know. I was twelve at the time.



He was...



Well, let's just say my first impression of him was hilarious. He and I both admit that much--except where the part where Rachael abused me--et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.



Now we skip ahead to when it's December of 1998. I was thirteen. This is where things get...somewhat interesting.







The kitchen of the orphanage is big and dim. It always smells like salt and sugar and flour. Everything in there is spotless; unless, of course, it's being used.



I was just coming in from target practice, and I was about to start doing the dishes. All the cooks there speak Italian, Japanese or Korean, so I, naturally, was forced to learn how to speak all three. I picked up a dirty bowl from one of the Italians and told him that I would return it after I was finished cleaning it.



The door moved open tentatively. I didn't pay any attention to it, as I figured one of the new workers would be trying to incorrectly bring in one of the dishes, so I walked over to the sink with a large basin and turned the faucet on.



"Um, is this the kitchen?" someone asked, in English. I looked up, and standing there in the doorway is the "most unlucky kid here."





Chapter 2

Robin

I embarrass myself countless times

County Beach Orphanage



As soon as I asked the guy the question, he started yelling at me in a language that I obviously didn't know. I took a nervous step back. Then another voice started shouting back in the same language.



The guy muttered something, probably about me, then stepped around me into the hallway.



"Can I help you?" asked a voice, thankfully in English.



I turned back and came face-to-face with a girl, who was taller than me, her electric-emerald green eyes penetrating mine.



"Um...is this the kitchen?" I asked nervously, a second time.



"Yes." her voice was sharp, impatient.



I swallowed. "I'm looking for Jacklin--"



"That would be me," she answered, narrowing  her eyes.



I handed her the note in my hand, and she opened it and read it. I already knew that it said:



Jacklin.



This is Robin. He started a food fight in the cafeteria--which, by the way, is ruined. You have to re-paint the whole thing. His punishment is to help you serve until he is adopted or discharged. And until then, he is my property.



-Rachael



I expected her to laugh. She didn't. Instead, her eyes hardened even more. So did her jaw.



"Was this...Event... today or yesterday?"



"Yesterday..."



She closed her eyes and muttered, "Shit! Now I have to re-paint the whole damn cafeteria."



I ducked my head. "If it makes you feel any better, um, I didn't do it on purpose."



Her eyes snapped open and she glared at me. "How the hell was that not on purpose?!" she cried crossly.



It didn't make her feel better, apparently. I shifted uncomfortably. "I slipped...and my lunch went into some big kid's face..."



She studied me for a minute. Then she said, "Well, fine then. The note says that--"



"I know what it says," I interrupted. "I read it."



Great. I just said another thing wrong. What was wrong with me today?



She stiffened. "Rule number one: don't read anything that isn't addressed to you."



I blushed. "Sorry. Learning here."



"There will be no time to learn. You will need to adopt these things quickly or you will be punished," she hissed angrily.



Then she turned and snapped, "Come with me."



She walked swiftly back into the kitchen. Her dark brown hair was hanging all the way down her back in a tight braid, and she was wearing stiff khaki shorts and an off-white cotton polo T-shirt.



Unsure I wanted to follow her but scared of what would happen if I didn't, I followed her. She stopped at a huge sink and quickly washed off a bowl. She handed me the bowl and a scrap of terrycloth and told me, "Dry this off while I get the other dishes."



I did. Whoopee, one thing right. I think.



For the next half hour, Jacklin washed the dishes and I dried them and placed them neatly on the counter. After we finished washing the dishes, she took one of them and flipped it over. On the bottom it said in big red marker, "4, 12."



"The first number is always the kitchen. Four is the sauce kitchen. That's in the corner over there." she pointed. "The second number is the cabinet." she walked over to the cabinet labeled "12" and put the saucer in it.



I nodded and picked up a clear glass bowl. 2, 9. "Where's kitchen 2?"



Jacklin pointed to the opposite side of the room, and I walked over, trying my best to find cabinet 9.



After we finished putting away the dishes, Jacklin checked her watch. "We have enough time to set up your room," she muttered, then said louder, "Follow me."



And so I followed her again, this time to a long, narrow and dimly lit corridor.



"I've never been down this hallway before," I said, and she stopped.



"These are the servant's quarters," she told me quietly. Then she pushed forward.



At the end of the hallway, she stopped again, this time at a narrow door with an old fashioned doorknob and lock.



Jacklin looked discreetly down the hallway then pulled out a small curved key. She put the key in the lock and turned it, pushing on the door. It didn't open. She lifted the knob hard, and kicked the door.



It sprang open, then fell off its hinges and clattered noisily into the hallway.



"If only I had time to fix that," she murmured, sort of sarcastically.



It was generally a small room, maybe a couple times the size of a closet. Jacklin walked inside and I followed. Inside was a small cot backed up in the corner next to the door. Then there was a desk with a few small belongings: a picture in a frame of a young couple, a photo of a girl who looked like Jacklin but who had blue eyes, a stationery set with a magical mail slot, a scrapbook with the words "June 21, 1985, 7:36 pm" inscribed on it, and a small alarm clock.



The other side of the room was completely uninhabited.



"Stay here," she said stiffly and left the room. When she came back she was dragging a folded up cot and a set of sheets with it.



I instantly jumped to attention. "Do you need any help?"



She stopped and looked me up and down. "No, thanks."



Come on, I was scrawny, but was that any reason to insult me like that?



I blushed as she quickly set up the cot. She left the room again. She returned with a small desk and a folding chair. Then she left yet again.This time she returned with a number of items-a stationery set, a magical mail slot two sets of clothing, and an egg.



I looked at the egg suspiciously.



"You may go get your belongings now," Jacklin told me as she gracefully dumped the stuff onto the prepared cot. I ran out of the room, grateful for something to do. I went to the main hall and found the room that I shared with a really annoying kid. I put the few things that I owned into a bag: an Irish blessings book that Eric got me a couple years ago, a folded up picture of my parents, another picture of our family, an amulet from Shaun, and a Chinese trap box where I kept all these things.



I made my way through the after-sport time rush back to the servants' quarters' hallway, back to the doorway for which there was now no door. I walked inside and found that Jacklin had organized most of the stuff on the desk. The clothes were folded on the cot. She wasn't in the room, so I put the box on the desk and looked around the room. The walls were a dingy white and completely bare. There was a closet with a thin door on the side and a bookshelf on the other side of the empty room. The first two rows were occupied by a few random books and several notebooks.



Suddenly, something really hard hit my full on the head, and I fell over. I picked it up. It was white and rectangular. I looked up at Jacklin in the doorway. She came in, carrying a thin cotton blanket and a slightly thicker woolen one.



"What is this?" I asked her, struggling to stand up. She stared at me blankly.



"Your pillow," she said, as if that were obvious. My mouth fell open. I quickly shut it.



"This is a pillow?!" I squeaked at her. She began to nonchalantly make my bed.



"Yes," she answered, now sounding exasperated. "It's a pillow. What did you expect?"



I looked down at the rectangle. "A white painting. A cement sculpture. But a pillow I didn't expect."



Great. I just said something wrong, didn't I?



She straightened up and looked me in the eye. "Hey. Half my life I lived without a pillow. You're lucky to have slept on one that was filled with feathers, not sawdust." Then she continued to make the bed.



I stared at her.



The rest of the day, Jacklin and I cleaned the entire orphanage. It was a lot of work and I simply couldn't believe that she could stand living like that. I tried my best not to complain.



Near the end of the day, I asked her, "Why are you the only orphan here that has to live like this? What did you do?"



"What did I do?" she said distractedly, frozen. "Nothing. I'm not an orphan." then she hesitated. "Well, my parents are dead but I live with a somewhat legal guardian."



"Who?"



She gave me another strange look. "Rachael. She's my cousin, remember?"



That's where I'd met Jacklin before. Two years before, I'd offered to help her clean up a mess and she said no. Then a vase shattered on my head and I fell down the stairs.



I think there's still a bloodstain at the bottom of the stairs there.



Later, I realized that the end of my day wasn't the end of her day.When I was used to going to bed at nine, we finally finished around eleven thirty. I gratefully climbed onto the uncomfortable cot. Thank God I could sleep until eight.





Chapter 3

Jackie

Unbelievable consequences

County Beach Orphanage



I couldn't believe Rachael had stuck me with this skinny little klutz who was used to living the good life.



I mean, I suppose I could have been nicer to him, but if he was going to be stuck with me, he needed to know that if he made one little mistake, he would be punished.



What really bugged me about the situation was that she was making this kid a slave. She made him suffer, like me, while all he'd done was slip.



The alarm, as usual, went off at 4:30 am. I got out of bed and went to the closet to get my clothes. Then I went to take a shower.



When I came back, ready for everything, it was 4:50. Robin was still in bed.



"What are you doing?!" I cried, and he turned over. "We have ten minutes to get down to the kitchen!"



"What time is it?" he groaned, sitting up.



"It's 4:50!" I yelled, throwing a set of clothes and a towel in his direction. "You have to shower and get dressed!"



"Why is it 4:50?" he said, but he got up anyway. His eyes told me he hadn't slept well. Get used to it, buddy. "Why isn't it 8?"



"Because we have chores to do!" I dragged him to the washroom. I waited outside the door while he dragged himself through the shower and into his clothes, tapping my foot impatiently and checking my watch frequently.



He came out five minutes late. I glared at him and gave him a lecture as we ran down to the kitchen. He appeared to be listening to me, or at least struggling to, anyway.



We arrived at the kitchen ten minutes late. Conveniently, Rachael was waiting impatiently for us there, claiming she was up to get a snack and just happened to notice we weren't there at five o'clock sharp.



"But since he's new, the punishment he would be getting is now yours," Rachael finished, and I lowered my eyes. I figured she would do something like that, just to spite me. I mean, she'd probably intentionally put him with me just to bug me.



How low is that?



The cooks rolled in at about six to make the breakfast for the other orphans. I helped, trying to teach Robin some languages along the way. It was difficult, since I was a quick learner and I learned young, it was hard for me to see that he just wasn't getting it. Of course, having someone drill you at six o'clock in the morning about Korean language isn't exactly your kind of wake-up call, is it? And it certainly wasn't Robin's.



We ate my usual kind of breakfast: half a stale piece of bread, lumpy oatmeal (to the extreme) and orange juice that was a few weeks past the expiration date (it was pretty much solid.) It wasn't your usual buttered English muffin (so to speak) but at least it was something.



Then as the orphans woke up at eight, we went into the rooms to make the beds and dust off any furniture. At eight-thirty Rachael called for her breakfast: a huge stack of pancakes (six of them, cooked to perfection), freshly squeezed orange juice with exactly 2 and 3/4 ounces of pulp in it, four pieces of hot sizzling bacon (right off the grill), each exactly 4 inches long and an inch and a half wide and a banana with exactly two bruises on it (one at the top on the left, one at the bottom on the right.) Rachael only made it this difficult because she wanted to annoy me, but I didn't mind that much. After all, if they made extra bacon, guess who it went to? Oh, not me, of course. One of the orphans was lucky that morning.



Rachael spitefully decided, that morning, that she wanted to change the menu: the needed to one and one half an inch ice cubes in the orange juice to keep it cold. But they couldn't be melted.



"How come it has to be so exact?" Robin asked me as we were preparing Rachael's breakfast. "Why can't she just have it...the normal way?"



"Because she wants to make sure that I'm on top of things," I lied, but the truth was that she just hated me. She made sure I knew who I was: a stupid little failure who happened to kill thousands of people at the age of 19 and 1/2 hours. She promised me, when I was little, that she would personally discipline me so that I would know better. Did it happen again? Well, as a matter of fact, it did. Fifteen times. Wow...guess her little disciplinary system didn't work, did it?



"It just seems so...unfair," Robin said in a small voice. "Just because you're her cousin doesn't mean that she has to treat you this way."



I knew that he was right, in a sense, but I did deserve to be treated that way. I deserved anything and everything that Rachael threw at me. I had wanted to kill, and I had. So I had to pay for it.



"Well, maybe it does," I muttered, and Robin looked at me. I looked away and continued to finish making the breakfast.



It was getting late, and we were almost finished painting the cafeteria. After that, we would only have to clean the bathrooms and the washrooms. It was close to ten, and Rachael just "happened to be walking by."



"You should think ahead," she tsked. "And you should have painted it mint green." Then she turned around and declared it was time for her to go to bed. Boy, I wished I could have her freedom.



"You should think ahead," Robin mimicked, and I laughed.



"Who does she think she's kidding?" I thought aloud. "Mint green. She sickens me."



I guess having Robin around was a good thing, like someone to talk to, at least until Rachael decided she didn't like the noise. He was a help, and I was beginning to appreciate it. He just needed to learn like I did, quickly. Or I could take the punishments for both of us.



So we got the paint and painted the entire cafeteria again. I was sure that the next morning Rachael would declare it was the wrong shade of green. I didn't mind so much, though. Then we finished the rest of our chores.



It was almost twelve by the time we got in.



"So it's like this for you all the time?" Robin asked me as we walked into the room. At first I didn't answer.



"Usually I don't get to bed until at least two," I answered truthfully. "So I guess you're actually helping me."



He grinned, and I rolled my eyes. "Well, well, well," he laughed. "Jacklin, are you complimenting me?"



I glared at him. "It's Jackie."



"You are complimenting me!" he exclaimed, cheering. "Finally! I was wondering what it would take for you to warm up to me. Yes!"



I took a pillow off a rack and hit him over the head.





Chapter 4

Robin

We have quality time at five in the morning

County Beach Orphanage



4:30 in the morning. 4:30. In the MORNING. God, what could a fellow do to get some rest around here? We got a grand total of four hours of sleep. When the alarm went off, this time I knew better and actually got up. When Jackie returned from getting ready, she was surprised to find me just as ready, sitting on the cot, waiting. I smiled at her.



"Suck up," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Then she said louder, "I guess we have ten extra minutes before we have to be there..."



"By the time we get there, it'll be five anyway," I replied. "If we take as long as we did yesterday, anyhow."



She stared at me. "Are you on drugs?" she exclaimed.



I grinned again. "No. I'm trying to 'adopt these things quickly' or else." I used finger quotes, which I could tell annoyed her, but then I hopped up. "Race you down there!"



I began to sprint out the door. I got a head start, so I knew that I would win. Yes!!



She surprised me yet again. As I ran into the kitchen, she was sitting on a counter. She laughed. "You seem to forget that I know my way around here. I know shortcuts."



"Aw, come on," I sighed, looking up at the giant clock above the doorway. We were five minutes early. I went to the cupboard where the mop bucket was and pulled it out, getting ready for the days chores.



Jackie and I filled up the bucket and began to mop the floor. She was telling me about the time she was with her family and she found her dragon egg.



"Can I tell you something?" I asked her as I wrung out the mop.



She looked up. "Okay, what's up?"



I hesitated. "This is going to sound stupid," I told her, and she smiled.



"Go ahead, Robin. God, you're paranoid." she giggled, and I blushed, nearly knocking over the mop bucket. I soaked my legs in the process. I looked up, taking a deep breath.



"Now my pants are wet," I blurted out, and she snorted.



"Robin, that's not what you were going to tell me," she laughed, shaking her head.



"I'm...afraid of dragons," I mumbled, and her eyes widened.



"You're afraid? Of dragons?" she paused. "Then you're in trouble, because the egg back in the room is your dragon egg."



I nodded uneasily. "More specifically, a red dragon egg. They're the worst types of dragons." I sighed. "Especially if you're afraid of them."



Jackie bit her lip.



"You're trying not to laugh, aren't you," I accused, blushing again.



"Very much so," she coughed out. "Have you ever ridden one?"



I nodded, recalling my last dragon ride with a shudder. "It was a green dragon. They're not all that bad, except...well, I had to...give it a bath..."



"Oh," Jackie said. "They're always cranky when you try to give them a bath."



"Well, this one was really bad. It eyed me like it wanted to gut me, and I looked back at it, because I always make those mistakes. I--"



"That wasn't a mistake," Jackie interrupted. "That was actually a very good idea. But did you break eye contact abruptly at any time?"



"There was that time that it knocked me over," I told her. "Does that count?"



Jackie cracked a smile. "Okay, I can see that. But what happened after that?"



"Okay. It knocked me over, and then...oh, the crazy hornet guy..."





Back in time...

March 15, 1994; the dragon stables



I was still stinging from the fall. After all, the dragon had thrown me a good fifty feet. I stood up, trembling, and keeping one eye on the rabid demon. Its eyes looked at me, kept me locked there. I knew these were to be my last moments alive--



But, suddenly, lo and behold, a random guy wearing a weird safari hat thing jumped out of a bush, scaring the living crap out of me. I mean, I literally screamed, and that startled the dragon, who roared extremely loudly at me. The dragon's spit burned like acid, which is exactly what it was, on my face.



I began clawing at my face like a madman, and the guy with the hat laughed at me. It was creepy. He had the full tilt mad scientist look--he had the snorting and the half crying thing down pat.



My face was now going numb. "Excuse me, sir, but...who are you?" I asked him, to which he replied, "I'm Ernie the hornet nester."



"Hornet nester?" I said nervously, fearing the worst. "What kind of...hornets are we talking here?"



The guy pulled out a little box, and opened it rapidly. I jumped back, because a swarm of hornets came flying at my face. But these weren't ordinary hornets. They were about twice the size of normal ones, with giant pincer like things near the mouth. They were tinged with green, so I just knew they were poisonous. They were albino, all white, with these creepy red eyes.



You might have thought I was calm, cool and collected from the outside, but inside? My only thought was "AHHHHH!"



"Um, those are NOT normal hornets, are they?" I asked him.



"No, they're not. They're very special hornets. How did you guess?"



"Just a hunch," I said, and my voice was higher than usual. Then, the guy gave some weird voice command, and they all flew directly at me. I screamed (again) and ran for the dragon. The thing was already in a bad mood, but me screaming and running at it couldn't have made it any better.



Sure enough, as I approached the dragon, it roared at me. My attention, however, was on the killer hornets. They were gaining on me! So I jumped onto the dragon (bad idea) and shouted at it to more.



It did. It launched itself into the air, and immediately I remembered my fear of heights. I held onto the dragon as tightly as I could, and as the thing spazzed uncontrollably, I screamed. It was incredibly degrading, what with a bunch of kids, including my brothers, staring at me and laughing.



Then the thing threw me off and flew away.





Back to the story...



"I bet you didn't look calm, cool and collected at all," Jackie accused me, and I rolled my eyes.



"Hey. Maybe I didn't, but that isn't any of your business."



She laughed. "Then there was something in the beginning...you know you're extremely dramatic?"



I looked at her. "What?"



"You said, and I quote, 'I knew these were to be my last moments alive.'"



I scowled, shaking my head. "I am theatric, not dramatic."



"And the difference is..."



"Zero! Nada! Goose eggs! Nil! I get the point, Jackie," I whined. "So you don't have to elaborate. The punch-line is that I don't have a good history with dragons."



"I think the story more states that you're afraid of giant, poisonous mutant hornets." she jutted out her chin, her eyes daring me. "Drama queen."



I sighed with exasperation. "You're impossible."





END OF PREVIEW ;) (I'll have to post more later!)