We Are

Authors Note: Well, this is the shortest chapter. Seven pages >_< Waaaaaaah.

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Chapter the Fourth:

Of Healing And Facing The Wicked Minds


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“Well? Is she dreaming or something?”

“She has been out for hours, do you expect any less?”

“Snap, snappy. Don’t be that way.”

“I’m not being ‘snappy’; I am simply stating the obvious due to Larinx’s obvious question.”

“Is that an ‘I’m dumb’ joke?!”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“She’s waking up!”

To say that I was humored was a bit of an understatement. I had awoken from my state of unconsciousness minutes before my friends burst through the Medical Hallway doors. I did not remember much at that moment but had quickly decided to keep my eyes closed, to try and hear the reaction of my friends. Even as I lay there unconscious, to them, they gathered around, worried about their new friend; it didn’t stop them from bickering among themselves as they grew nervous by the passing seconds. It was a miracle they hadn’t bothered the nurses about my well being. Rumors were that although they were sweet and kind, the nurses had hypnotic powers combined with little patience.

“Stop, all of you, stop! Ms. Sanchez will not wake up if you all crowd around her like this!”

God, that nurse’s voice was shrill. If only she would lower the tone a bit, bleeding from my earlobes was not something I needed at the moment.

“But she’s awake, Ms. Loran!”

“You are all out of here, do you hear me? Come on! Out! OUT!”

“Veir, weren’t her eyes green?”

“They are green Larinx.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.... OW!”

“Moron.”

“Leave me alone Rouge.”

With my eyes fully opened, the fact that Spencer and Veir were looking over me suddenly came to my realization; in pure instinct, I screamed. They jumped back and Spencer fell out of his seat, pulling Trey along with him. I sat up, hands griping the sheets tightly before watching Trey pat down his clothes while Spencer still lay on the floor; now, I should have been worried about the guy I possibly liked, but I wondered how Trey got up in a split second. Then it hit me, I didn’t know his power; maybe it was speed. That moment I realized several people were around me. The nurse, Veir, that girl Rouge from this morning, Kyle, Larinx, Trey and Spencer. Near the door to the hall-like room, were several other students, wearing what seemed to look like soccer uniforms.

“You’re awake.”

“No, I’m just sleeping with my eyes open. What do you think Veir?”

“Ah, it seems you and Rouge will get along.”

“Shut up.” I blinked, almost in synch with the girl sitting about two feet away from my bed. She gave me a look that clearly read ‘I hate you’. I was tempted to act like I didn’t know anything and then say something insult. I promptly bit my tongue. But soon...

Time passed.

And it continued to do so until the hall became emptier.

I wondered who my assailant was. I wondered if he would strike again. Perhaps he would bring others? Maybe he was attacking other students as well?

These questions plagued my mind for several hours, while lying in one of the beds of the Medical Hallway, after my friends had departed for their own rooms. They couldn’t stay forever and Nurse Loran had threatened to make sure they were permanently glued to the floor if they didn’t leave; I believe that one could hear a sonic boom the very minute she said that, caused by my comrades’ hasty speed. The questions, the doubts and thoughts didn’t come to me until the Dean of the school did, along with men dressed in black power suits and gray shirts; they interviewed me, asked me what had happened and tried to squeeze every single detail out of me. It was clear, but vague at the same time. I had told them that I guessed my attacker was male and that he had been strong, but not abnormally so, but what did I really know? They seemed to be skeptical when they were about to leave, using Nurse Loran’s office to speak ‘privately’ with the Dean and the rest of the nurses.

I remembered watching them leave. At that moment, I came to realize that the men were the ones who questioned me back home. I glared, openly and furiously; they didn’t seem to care or they didn’t notice. Nevertheless, the glare did not leave my face just as the stone expression on their faces became clearer to me as they walked passed. How I hated them, the hate that I held for them was probably unwarranted but it was still there. Why was still unknown to me.

My eyes closed instinctively, as Nurse Loran’s flashlight shone in front of me, pointing to another child in one of the beds. If I slept, maybe I could forget what I did not understand, or maybe I could remember what I never thought I could comprehend.

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They were here.

Just outside my home.

Their car, a sleek and black Hummer, was parked in front of my mom’s radiant front garden; I couldn’t help but notice the way they complemented each other. A large patch of grass, decorated with roses, tulips and margaritas, while being dazzled in the bright sunlight that rebounded off the sleek machine. If they made Hummer Hybrids, it would be as though I were watching an announcement for the bettering of the world’s environment.

I watched them, ever so closely, as they slowly came out of the vehicle. Clothed in almost full black, their gray shirts being the exception, with no hair at all; one could see a small glimmer of the sun’s rays on their heads. I wondered why they were so. Perhaps it was for safety? Was it part of a mandatory rule? I grew less and less curious about it as they approached the front porch. I knew my mother was there. It was three o’clock, so she was probably having her afternoon coffee and sugar cookies. She met them near the steps up to her comfortable spot, with the rocking chair settled next to the large wooden doors leading to our home. They stopped, stern and still somewhat stone-faced. One stared up, to the right and down a bit, staring right at me as if he thought I was going to escape. Their sunglasses were lifted, showing once more their synchronization. The eyes that lay beneath those sunglasses were cold, icy and, to some extent, cruel.

The one who stared at me?

Did he believe I feared him?

If he did, it was for naught. ‘For naught’, at least I could put English class to good use within my mind. I did not fear them, nor did I fear whomever they worked for. My father told me that fear and desperation were a part of you, and it was something that would always be there. Sometimes, I tended not to believe in that. I did tell my father, how I had ignored what he told me, time after time... after time.

His words were sweet.

“Mi hija... Mi hijita... You are fearful, and your little eyes give it away. Ah...Olivia. You have great fear, but there is a difference between what you consider ignoring and what is conquering. Your subconscious...It knows these fears. Your heart...It chooses not recognize it.”

I kept those words floating in my mind as I was called downstairs, to the kitchen, where the men entered and settled at the large round table in the middle of the room. They, the men, stared at me, openly and without straight expressions on their faces. When my parents spoke to them or they asked something of them, they did not turn their gazes from me. I returned it with a mild look of annoyance.

“Ms.... Olivia. You seem to be a special child.”

I noted that, for a ten year old, I was quite witty.

“Five hundred thousand a year just to tell me I’m ‘a special child’? Wow, you must be proud of yourself.”

My mother did not say a word, something that surprised me. She was a respectable woman, knew everyone in our neighborhood and stuck to ‘old values’, yet not once, in the ten years I had lived until this moment, had she let something like that slip. My father was taken a bit back, by my comment and my mother’s inaction. Thorough my surprise I realized it was to be expected. Mother had been one of the most ‘protestant’ people around in her years at UPR, the University of Puerto Rico. Fight the power, down with the ‘man’ and all that ‘jazz’. The clear disdain she held for the men was clear and it almost made me laugh.

The one who talked coughed.

“Well then, you seem to have quite the personality.”

“I’m ten years old, I’m getting into my ‘talk back’ years.”

“I’ll be straightforward. The recent ‘incident’ that occurred in your school, about forty days prior to this day?”

The other nodded.

“..Is of the uncommon variety. Cherry Blossom trees simply do not come up in the middle of a classroom. Most certainly not on the second floor of a building.”

“So I made a tree grow.”

“You openly admit to this?” The other’s voice was rough and it seemed he thought me guilty of some crime.

“Let’s cut to the chase. I was looking at a picture in my geography book, a park with trees and a cherry blossom tree grew between my seat and the kid behind me. By the way, how is Eduardo dealing with it? Never mind. Now, am I going to jail or to a facility where your going to put tubes in any ‘orifice’ you can find.”

“I’m surprised you know the meaning of that word.”

“I have a thing called a dictionary, you know.”

“Olivia Germana!” Father did not sound like he wanted to reprimand me, more like he were about to laugh. Although not ‘completely’ against the ‘authority’, he wasn’t like normal dads. It made him cool.

“Please, Mr. Sanchez, there is no need to... correct her. Now... We would like to ask something of you. Obviously, you must have some control of your powers and we would like a demonstration.”

“What kind?”

Up to that point, I had failed to notice that one of the two had gone and returned, with a pot full of soil. He placed it on the table before me. It was small, plain, of a brown clay color.

“Could you make something grow out of this? There are seeds embedded in the soil already.”

“No! No! No! Tu escúcheme un momento! Tu vienes aquí, con tus cosas, mandando a mi hija hacerle unos trucos? Para que, para que se la lleven?! Pues no! No!”

“Mari…Marisol!”

My mom’s uproar was hilarious. She did not speak English but understood it well enough to know what they asked. Apparently, she had been ticked off from the moment the men had arrived.

“Mom. Mom! Its ok.” I stared at the pot before placing my right hand over it, but nothing happened for a good few minutes. When one of the men opened his mouth to say something, he quickly closed it. I was too focused to notice this detail until a few seconds after it had transpired.

The pot began to shake slowly, then surely and madly before stopping. A small bud rose from the dry soil and began to grow and grow. The stem formed, along with leaves and a flower bud. The bud grew and in seconds, opened to reveal a lush and beautiful red shade. Now, fully grown in the pot, lay a red rose. The men seemed slightly surprised before regaining their calm composure.

“Ah.”

“You know, for guys wearing ‘kick ass’ black and what I can assume, are high government positions, I’m taken aback that ‘Ah’ is the only thing you can say.”

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Oh the questions.

The only aspect I did not enjoy from the many things surrounding me once I left the Medical Hall. Everyone stopped me to ask me something. Who attacked me? Did I know them? What did they look like? I kept saying no to them. Just....Just no! I didn’t want to say anything about it; why would I want to recount this?

I knew that, to others, it seemed like I was hardly affected but I truly was. Lately, I always had someone with me; in the halls, walking across the campus, in the dorms. I couldn’t be alone. I was afraid. Larinx was the one who seemed to ask most about my well-being, followed by snide remarks by Kyle that were meant to make me laugh. Veir often tailed me and pretended he wasn’t. He blended into crowds well. And Rouge...

Well, she had her special way. Every morning, she waited at the bathroom door and let me in first, her glare was softer. As the days passed, rumors surfaced:

I made it up.

I was hallucinating or crazy.

I was connected with someone or something and ‘they’ were out to get me.

The common denominator in all of this: It was basically my fault. I did not ask to be attacked and I did not except what people were thinking. The way the human mind linked things, in a manner that the conscious accepted, was terrifying. They really thought it had something to do with me and any bad act they could think of.

The whispering in the halls grew more and more, even as I walked past, head held up high in true fury. Or so I guessed. Some of the others, the other kids, they let out whispers so that I would hear, perhaps hoping to kill my spirit.

“See? That’s her. I told you she looked freaky.”

“Think she’s in the mob?”

“Her? Nah.”

“I heard she slept with someone and theres a hit on her.”

“Oh really? Well, word in the Topaz dorms is that she was doing the guy that attacked her.”

“What? No way!”

“Yeah. They were doing it in those woods and when they heard someone she just pretended to be attacked.”

Ouch. That stung.

My brown eyes changed to deep emerald as I stopped. How did I know? How did I always know? It was because I could feel it, it was simply one of those things you knew occurred and one of those things that had a certain trigger.

Looks like that girl hit the trigger.

The bag I was holding dropped and I turned, swiftly and quickly, facing the person whispering. This particular gossiper was a girl and an ‘easy’ looking one at that; she wore a red shit with no sleeves and a denim jacket, a blue skit and knee high black boots. The make-up smeared on her face reminded me of a plastic doll.

“Wow. First I’m a lunatic, and then I’m hallucinating. Now I’m covering because, apparently, I’m sexually active?” With every single word I drew closer and people began to conglomerate around us. The girl stood; along with the friend she had been whispering to and tried to look unfazed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Veir, watching carefully. For a moment, I thought I saw Rouge but turned my attention to the girl before me.

“Oh come on, like there would be anyone really attacking students here.”

“Yeah!”

What happened next seemed out of my control.

“You think that I-I would make this up?” My voice was loud, echoing around the hall as everyone grew silent. Even though I was in my teenage years, my voice did not crack as it became higher. “You...You disgust me! Who would believe that someone would make up being attacked? Huh?”

For good measure I pulled up the sleeves of my beige sweater, revealing the scratches and bruises that lay there. The scratches were mostly from the trees and the scuffle to free myself but the dark and purple-ish marks were from the pressure applied by my assailant’s hands. I held them out, for everyone to see.

“Would I make this up? Would I? You are all sick. You are all sick to believe that I would make this up. But now....Now you probably think that I did this to myself... God!” As I turned I heard the girl make a small scoffing sound.

My movements were faster than ever before. Before I could analyze what was happening, my hands found the girl’s throat and pushed her up against the wall. She gasped and clutched at them.

“Olivia!”

When Veir came forward, accompanied by Marietta and Rita, my hands let go and darkness started to take me once more.

I could hear some words though.

"Who the hell do you think you are?! Huh? I ought to-"

Woosh... I was gone...

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Author Note: Please Read and Review.. Don't worry, all will be clear in Chapter Five. It seems that you can't tempt Olivia.