Six

The next few weeks pass by in a blur; I go through the motions of school and homework, not really paying attention to what I am doing.  I barely speak to anyone, not even Jax; I am immersed in finding out more about Watchtowers and the legend behind them.  I pour over the heavy tome from the library, the notes I make quickly filling one, then another spiral notebook.     One of the days I am able to make a lucky break; I find a page with the drawings of the symbols of the Watchtowers, and the teardrop happens to be the water symbol.  I glance at my palm where the symbol is tattooed permanently now, and I wonder if perhaps the notion of this legend being real is not as crazy as I originally thought.  More and more, I begin to think that Mrs. Edmonton knows more than she is letting on, and finally after weeks of going back and forth in my head, I decide that the best thing to do would be to simply ask.

I open my eyes the morning before Thanksgiving break is set to begin as my alarm clock blares its’ dulcet tones. I reach over and slap it off, leaning back onto my pillows. The weak November light is just beginning to poke its’ head above the trees, letting just a few slivers of sunlight into my room. Suddenly, I sit straight up, alert and awake. I swear I see a shadow move from the corner of my room and out the barely cracked window. Not minding the cold hardwood under my feet, I leap out of bed and rush over to look down at my side yard. It’s hard to make out, but I see the fallen leaves rustle as the shadowy figure disappears into the woods. My heart pounding in my ears, I look around my room for signs of a break in, only to find everything in its’ normal place. I let out a breath and rub my temples gently.

    “Just your imagination getting the better of you Ren,” I mutter, and grab my towel as I head into my bathroom. I go through the motions of my morning routine; shower, dress, breakfast of two hard-boiled eggs and cereal, and brush teeth. The whole time my mind is on the past few weeks and what I had discovered. I shake my head as my nimble fingers work through my hair into a french braid.

    “Get to school,” I whisper to myself. I step outside into the brisk morning and am immediately glad I had chosen a coat with a hood. I run to my car and get in, not waiting for it to warm up a full five minutes as I usually do. The engine of my Toyota growls at me, but there isn’t another moment to spare.

I feel like I hit every traffic light on the way to school. When I finally park in the lot and run inside, the warning bell has already rung. I groan inwardly. Today of course I don’t have Mrs. Edmonton until seventh period; the five hours between then and now will be riddled with anxiety. Still, I try and push everything out of my mind as I make my way to Physics class. The day is able to pass quicker than I think; I am somehow able to concentrate better in my classes than I have the past few weeks. I don’t even think about Watchtowers or Guardians until lunch, when I think I spot her in the throng of people. I try to follow her white crowned head before heading to the lunchroom, but I have no luck. The woman probably has already disappeared into the teacher’s lounge for her own break. I show up to lunch five minutes late, where I find Jax, who looks righfully annoyed.

“Ren, I called you at least twenty five times the last few weeks and you never picked up, are you like, mad at me or something?” he asks, hand on his hip. I can tell that he is trying to sound angry but it doesn’t do enough to mask the hurt in his voice. I feel my heart tug a little bit at the sight of him. I have been so wrapped up in this debacle that I forgot all about Jax and everything else in my life. I know he deserves better than this intrinsic person I have started to become.

    “Hey Jax, I’m so sorry,” I begin quietly, and then take a deep breath.  “I’ve been preoccupied these past few with.. well, with something I can’t even begin to explain,” I say, but Jax stops me.

    “Come on, it’s me we’re talking about.  Why can’t you just try,” he wheedles. I hesitate, procrastinating for a moment by sticking the tip of my long braid into my mouth and chewing gently, something I do when I get nervous. I had a feeling that if Jax knew what I had seen, and what I found in the library that he’ll hand his phone to me with the nearest mental institution on call. Jax’s eyes are boring into me, and finally, I know I must relent.

    “Come with me,” I whisper, taking him by the arm and leading him to a table situated on a deserted edge of the cafeteria. Jax raises a brow at the seclusion, but doesn’t say anything against it.

“Trying to turn your gay friend straight so you can have a boyfriend?” Whitney, Josh’s new and impetuously obnoxious girlfriend, sneers as she passes by hanging off of Josh’s arm. I wait for another comment, or even a laugh coming from Josh’s mouth, but he says nothing and stares straight ahead, not even acknowledging my existence. I frown and bit my lip worriedly. While it’s nice to not have an insult thrown at me for once this semester I don’t know if I like his new technique either.

    “Ugh, what an obnoxious bimbo,” Jax says, rolling his eyes over at her, then turns back to me. He sees the look I must have on my face and rubs my arm lightly.

    “Hey, don’t let them get to you Ren you’re worth ten thousand of them,” he comforts, and then slaps my arm lightly.

    “Now stop chewing on your hair and tell me everything,” he says, wrinkling his nose in disgust, then leans in, waiting for me to start talking. I let my hair fall back and sigh, knowing I can procrastinate no longer.

    “Well, it all started at the party,” I start and Jax clucks his tongue, realizing immediately what I am referring to.

    “When you sent that typhoon thing up at Josh?” he says, then chuckles. “That was hilarious by the way, but how the hell did you do that?”

    I shake my head and lean back in my seat, exhaling loudly. “I have no idea! So that was in the back of my mind all the time obviously, then let’s cut forward to the swim meet, the one where I bumped my head,” I say, then hesitate. The look he gives me urges me to go on; he’s hanging on to every word I say.

    “I wasn’t so focused on winning that I didn’t see the edge of the pool. I saw...something else,” I pause. “Someone else.”

I realize how I had phrased the statement to make it much more dramatic than I intended, but Jax was staring at me like a lion who had just discovered a pack of antelope for dinner. I take it as a cue to continue.

    “I saw this thing...I can’t even begin to tell you what it was, it just looked like this dark shadow looming in the bottom.  My whole body seized, paralyzed by the fear that things’ presence caused me.  It started coming towards me, and I thought I was done for, but then...I don’t know what happened, but a jet stream of water shot towards it, knocking it back to the bottom.  Before anything else could happen though, this flash of white light streaked past me and it was gone.” I stop and look over at Jax, who hadn’t interrupted me the whole time.

    “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” I ask quietly. He reaches across and grabs my hand, patting it lightly.

    “A little,” he teases, and then tries to get serious.

 “Honestly Ren, most people would think you’re absolutely nutso, but as we all know I’m not most people. I’m your best friend, so first and foremost I stand with you because I’m loyal, unlike some other people,” he says, and I get the hint he means Josh.

    “Secondly, the way you described what you saw was so vivid and detailed, and let’s be honest, you’re not the most creative person in the world,” he chortles, and I reach over to smack his arm playfully.

    “Hey now, that’s not entirely true,” I say indignantly. “Remember that mermaid poem back in like second grade?” Jax rubs his arm then folds them across his chest.

    “Yeah, it was all about how you liked mermaids, soooo creative.  Now go on, why did we go to the library?” he asks, scooting back in his seat so I will have to reach farther if the need for physical violence arises again.

    “Well Sunday morning I received a text from a blocked number that just said ‘it is time’, and when I went downstairs to check on breakfast I found a note with a specific book title and who to ask about it. Combined with the dark shadow in the pool, and Mrs. Edmonton’s talk about Watchtowers, I knew I had to go find out something,” I finish, then wait for him to speak.

    “And...what did you find?” Jax asks breathlessly. I reach into my book bag and pull out the book, open it to the right page, and slide it over for him to read. Jax is quiet for a few minutes, his eyes zoning in on the pages, his brow furrowing deeper with every sentence. Finally, he looks back up at me.

    “So...a Watchtower?” is all he ends up saying. I shrug, pursing my lips in thought.  I can only imagine what he must be thinking, but I am willing to bet it is somewhere between this girl is crazy or there has to be another explanation.

    “I know, it sounds crazy, but I feel like Mrs. Edmonton almost...wanted me to find out this information, so it must have some meaning right?” I say, a pleading tone creeping into my voice. Jax shrugs and closes the notebook.

    “I think we should go talk to Mrs. Edmonton,” he says, then started to rise.  I do not move for a moment; while I am pleased that Jax has taken my observations and hasn’t called the closest mental hospital, I was not expecting him to take action so quickly.

    “What right now? I was going to wait until seventh when I have her class. I also checked her classroom before lunch and she wasn’t there,” I say, not bothering to hide my bewilderment at his motivation, but he shakes his head and holds out his hand for me to take.

    “This can’t wait. If she really wanted you to find this information, then I’m sure she won’t mind that you’re interrupting her lunch break,” he reasons, pulling me out the door and towards the teachers lounge. Once we reach the spacious room, Jax tentatively knocks. The door opens, and Mrs. Edmonton is in there along with two other teachers I vaguely recognize but never had throughout my four years at the school.

    “Is there something I can help with you with?” she said, her eyes straying from me to the book I hold tightly in my hands.

    “Yes Mrs. Edmonton, Serenity needs to ask you something,” Jax says, nudging me forward against my will. My teacher looks at me patiently, waiting for me to speak, as do all of the other teachers. I clear my throat nervously.

“Uh, well I was hoping I could speak with you privately concerning this matter,” I murmur, looking down at my feet.  The other two teachers make sudden excuses on needing to prepare for their next classes and exit, leaving the three of us alone.   My teacher raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.

    “Well...you remember how you said there were no books with information about Watchtowers? I..well, I think I found one,” I say. Mrs. Edmonton’s expression suddenly grows serious, and she quickly stands up, dropping her sandwich on the floor.  Ignoring it, she walks briskly towards us.

    “Come with me my dears, we must go somewhere where we won’t be as overheard,” she says, ushering us out of the room towards her classroom down the hall. A few students gave us glances as they hurry by, and one waves to Mrs. Edmonton. She just smiles and bustles along. Jax and I exchange nervous glances. Mrs. Edmonton hasn’t said anything, which I find a strange departure from her usual chatty self.

    “Do you suspect something weird going on here?” Jax utters to me. I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and glance over at him, trying to mask my worry.

    “No, not yet I don’t think,” I whisper back.  He grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly before letting go and allowing his arms to swing back and forth.

    We finally arrive at our destination; Mrs. Edmonton’s classroom. Once inside the room, she shuts the door after peering out to make sure nobody is coming. When she seems satisfied, she crosses to her desk and sits down, motioning for us to sit in front of her.

    “Well?” she asks, leaning in as if not wanting to be overheard. Not exactly knowing where to begin, I open the book to the Watchtower pages and set it in front of her. Mrs. Edmonton’s lips pursed together and she looks back at me once she was done reading.  She flips back a few pages to the painting of Nerine and Arlen and stares at it.  The seconds tick by; I can hear the round clock on the wall ticking ominously.  Finally, she speaks.

    “What do you make of this, Ms. White?” she whispers, still not looking directly at me. I feel nervous, but also believe that I can trust my teacher. After all, she is the most eclectic teacher at the school - if anyone would believe me, she will.

    “These watchtowers, or watchers, they exist don’t they? They exist to keep the Daughters of Darkness like I saw in...in the painting,” I finally say. I don’t know why I lie about seeing Nerine in my nightmares, but something inside me stops the words at my lips.  I do not feel comfortable letting either of them know the sort of dreams I have been having my entire life.  I know just how crazy I sound; Jax looks over at me with a worried expression on his face. Mrs. Edmonton however, does not laugh, or cry in outraged astonishment or laugh at my expense. Instead, she whips out a notepad and a pen and begins writing something down.

    “Come to this address this afternoon after school at four o’clock,” she says quickly, ripping off the paper and handing it to me. I look down and see that it’s an address: 48 Roseville Road. I know where it is of course, but when I look up at Mrs. Edmonton to question why, she quickly speaks again.

    “Come here, alone,” she says, pointedly looking at Jax, who begins to protest but she cuts him off.

    “Come to this house by yourself Serenity, and I will be waiting for you with,,,someone who can explain everything to you. About your dreams, what you saw, and who you really are,” she says. I feel as though an anvil had been dropped onto her head. Who I really was? I already know who I really am. I am Serenity White, eighteen years old, accomplished swimmer and college hopeful.

    “But...I know who I am,” I start, but Mrs. Edmonton shakes her head slowly.

    “No...no my dear, you don’t know who you are,” she murmurs. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period and, without another word she sweeps from the room, leaving us alone. Jax turns to me, a worried look on his face.

               “Ren, what did she mean by dreams?” he asks, and I realize that even though I had resolved not to mention them, she somehow knew.   I hurry into the hall to see if I can find and stop to ask her, but she’s nowhere to be found.  Disappointed, I return inside the classroom where Jax is still standing.

    “Ren, I don’t know, I don’t think you should go by yourself,” he warns. I sigh. I don’t want to admit that I feel very wary about this whole thing, but I had trusted Mrs. Edmonton in the past, and I don’t think she would intentionally put me in harm’s way.  Besides, as of right now she is the only one who seems to accept my story, no questions asked.

    “I trust her Jax, I think I’m going to go. I can’t explain it but I really think she has the answers I didn’t even know I was searching for,” I say, and then pat my stomach with a giggle.

    “I have a gut feeling about this one,” I joke, trying to make him laugh. Jax musters a small smile, but still doesn’t look convinced.

    “Well at least let me drive you there, and I’ll park at Adam’s house he lives just up two doors down from here. If anything goes wrong or you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be there in a second,” he says. I shake my head; I always expect him to say something of this sort so  I am prepared with my answer.

    “No Jax, no, I need to go by myself, and by myself is how it’s going to be,” I say firmly.

Jax opens his mouth to argue again, but other students begin to file into the classroom, so we leave.  He bids me farewell with a wave as we part ways in the stairwell. As I make my way towards Calculus class, I admit to myself that it is incredibly fishy that Mrs Edmonton knew about my dreams without telling her, as though she is a mind reader.  The butterflies that have been fluttering in my stomach seem to be coming out of me; there is no way I’ll be able to focus the rest of the day, not with this anxiety of finally having these ridiculous questions answered looming over me. I take my normal seat in class and focus on trying to have a normal, average Monday afternoon.

Author's Note

Read and review please!