Imagine (7 page)

It all
brings a strong feeling of sickness to my stomach. The cruelty in front of me, the men who are enjoying themselves by watching these two beautiful animals fight to the death, cheering their pick on. I love animals, I always wanted a dog of my own and had researched different breeds to try and convince my Mom of the best fit for us. When I look at the two dogs again my heart feels heavy, I just want it all to end; I don’t want either dog hurt anymore.

I close my eyes and
Imagine
a much different scene, I picture both dogs curled up asleep together on a rug in front of a warm, roaring fire like two best friends and all of the people here sat around talking calmly. The smell of pine wood burning in the fireplace enters my nostrils as my breathing and heartbeat slow down considerably. I feel better, relieved even.

I slowly open my eyes,
to my utter astonishment my vision seems to have become reality, I gasp in wonder as it takes my breath away. The two dogs are curled up next to each other, the pit bull snoring. Neither of them has a mark on them and they look so peaceful. Like two well looked after pets, best friends.

The crowd has calmed and there is no more shouting.
Most of the crowd looks confused; everyone is looking around and talking to each other trying to figure out what has just happened in the blink of an eye, my eye.

I don’t think anyone knows that it was me that caused the change in this evening’s
entertainment; I definitely want to keep it this way, so I try and act normally. By normally of course I mean the same as everyone around me. So I turn and look for Chelsey, who is just staring at the dogs, with everything that had been happening I had completely forgotten that she was right there beside me. All I can think about now is I have got to get out of here, as fast as humanly possible; this is just all too strange. A million questions run through my head, I need to speak to my Mom.

But w
hy were we invited to witness this in the first place? What do Keagan and Eddie have to do with it all? The biggest question of all though … do they know it was me?

I turn to grab Chelsey’s hand and start pulling her towards the stairs, but
 instead I crash into a figure blocking my path. I glance up and see that once again the figure belongs to Keagan.

He is standing next to Eddie and another man bl
ocking our way, all three look determined. Their arms crossed with such stern looks on their faces. “We are leaving, move” I tell them as I try to shove my way through them to no avail. I’m starting to get angry, angry and scared.

“I wanna go home!
Now!
” Chelsey cries, sensing the trouble that is brewing.

“I told you that she was one of
them
! What happened with the car? It was her …” Eddie says. I presume he is talking to Keagan and the other man, who are on either side of him. The older man looks just like him, he is very well dressed, so I can only presume he is Eddie’s father.

“You were right
son, and this one is
special
, very special indeed
.
” his father replies. Keagan looks at me with a blank indifferent look, it matches the strange mood that he has been in from the very second he opened the door
.

“Keagan what are you doing?
I thought you cared about me?” I get no reply just another brooding look. 

Eddie’s Dad turns to me,
the look in his eyes frightens the life out of me. I see hatred and anger in the look that he bestows upon me.

“Take her to the
cell; make sure you keep that friend of hers around too. She’ll be a nice bargaining chip. I want to make sure that the Young Creator plays nice” and with that he just leaves, grabbing a glass of bourbon from the table as he leaves via the staircase, glancing over at me one more time with distain.

The room is starting to clear out rather quickly. I hear car engines starting outside as p
eople are clearly realizing the entertainment for tonight is over. The people don’t really pay attention and as I try to reach out to an older gray haired man passing us, he casually shrugs me of. How can no one help us? It’s pretty obvious that something untoward is going to happen.

The room
empties very quickly; soon it’s only Chelsey, Eddie, Keagan and me. I look at Eddie, who is tightly holding my wrist like an upset father with a misbehaving toddler and at Keagan, who does not appear to be happy at all.

“Keagan
, grab Chelsey and follow me!” Eddie instructs him.

I look at Chelsey, she seems as though she is in as much shock as I am. I really don’t know what she’s more freaked out about. It could be that some cult is obviously kidna
pping us, it could be the events of the last 30 minutes or, more likely that the whole thing clearly has something to do with me. I try to resist as Eddie begins to drag me towards a dark hole in the wall. My struggle is pointless, he is just too strong. I scream and struggle, but to no avail. I look back at Chelsey and just see simple fear in her beautiful eyes.

“Please
don’t do this Eddie” she pleads.

IX

imagine
a guardian

Dark gray stone walls surround me; they feel just as cold as they look. The room has no windows but some thin rays of light force their way through the cracks in the brickwork. From the light that fights its way through the brickwork I can just about make out my bleak surroundings, I appear to be in a prison cell, a prison cell from a long time ago.

Straw covers the ground and the room
has a stale and musty smell to it, a lot like old books. I have walked around the cell multiple times, using my hands to feel along the walls and floor, but the only way out is through a giant steel door at the front of the cell. I am in here alone and can’t help wondering what has happened to Chelsey, Eddie had pushed me into this cell and slammed the door shut, and there was a loud ‘click’ as he turned a key to lock it. I heard the key be removed too. I called out her name but was only greeted by silence.

I wonder how long I have been
here; it must be morning now, due to the sunlight. When they first put me in the cell it was complete blackness that surrounded me and I screamed and yelled for what felt like forever, to no avail. I don’t even want to try to talk I know that my voice will be hoarse.

I can’t wrap my mind around what happened.
One minute it seemed like things were finally falling into place for me, I had great friends, a school that was tolerable and a guy that seemed like he really liked me. Now I lie here on the pile of straw and question everything. What were Eddie and Keagan’s parts in all of this? What exactly is a Young Creator
?
What is going to happen to us now?

This is the
third time that something strange has happened to me just recently; first there was the broom, then the car and now the dogs. I wish my Mom would have explained things to me, all she said was that she simply wished that this wouldn’t have happened and that we were all in danger because of it and I’d count being locked in a dungeon as some pretty serious trouble, wouldn’t you?

I had asked her to explain but she said that the time wasn’t right and that she would explain everything when it was. It comforted me a little at the time but now I want a
nswers. The timing wasn’t right? Ummmm, excuse me? The time was perfect, I had just wacked my Mom in the head by just
imagining
it. Some explanation would have been nice. I am so frustrated; I hate not knowing what is going on, especially if I’m involved. It is
my
life.  Why do adults always think they know what’s best for us ‘kids’?

I am dragged from my thoughts by
a scraping against the door; a loud creak is followed by a latch opening at the bottom of the door. A bowl appears, some sort of cereal sloshes around inside. I decide that I might as well try it, I am so hungry and who knows when they plan on feeding me again. The cereal is still crisp and the milk cold, I scoff it down, as though I hadn’t eaten in days. I take 3 or 4 bites before my eyes start to feel tired and my limbs heavy as I crash to the ground and pass out.

When I wake up I am
being jolted around on the open back of some sort of wagon, on a very bumpy road, my hands are bound loosely in front of me with a rope. My entire body aches from hitting the floor back in my cell and lying on the wooden boards of this cart, for I don’t know how long.

I
can feel another body pressed up against mine and when I manage to turn my head I find that Chelsey is laying next to me, still sound asleep. She must have fallen for the contaminated cereal trick too.

I just lay there quietly for a moment and listen to her breathing
. I notice that we are on some trail surrounded by tall dark trees. It’s a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. The trees provide some shade, but I still have to squint from the sun to really be able to see what’s around me.

It’s a very bumpy ride, we are constantly hitting rocks that make the wagon, and our bodies, bounce around
like puppets on strings. I notice that there are three men in the front wagon. The driver is tall and has dark brown hair, he is thin and wearing a brown shirt that looks home-made. Next to him sits Eddie, dressed in a similar fashion. Sitting with his back to the cab and with his eyes firmly on us is Keagan. He is clutching a musket, a gun from the civil war era (See Mr. Monous, I DID pay attention, sometimes!)

At that very moment we turn a corner on the dirt road. We slow down considerably and I can make out a few small buildings with
thatched rooftops, I think that we are coming up on some sort of small village.

I
actually wonder if we have stepped into some sort of alternate universe. From what I can make out, this village is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. The houses with straw roofs also appear to be made of wood, mahogany I think. They all look similar but each one is unique in its own way. For example, some have shutters that are painted different colors, some also have doors that have beautiful deep carvings on them and only some have a porch.

The craftsmanship on everything is exquisite. I gaze in
astonishment at the carvings on some doors that we pass. They all appear to tell different stories. Some show elaborate hunting scenes and some show battles from hundreds of years ago, men fight with suits of armor and swords on horseback. They all have chimneys, blowing out smoke from fireplaces inside.

P
eople in the streets are behaving in the strangest ways, doing things that I did not think existed in this century anymore. I notice two young people about my age, a very pretty blonde girl with freckles across her nose with a boy with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. Both of them are dressed the same as the three men on the wagon with us, but they are chained, both to each other and a tree, they are also covered in splatters of blood.

I see women hanging laundry on lines at the sides of the houses and m
en chopping wood. Everyone seems very solemn, hardly anyone looks happy. Children are in the streets but they are not running around or laughing, instead they have their heads bowed as if staring at their feet as we drive by.

I gasp in horror as I see a man tacking a thin branch across the back of a woman’s hands.
Blood is running down her knuckles, but she is not making a single noise.

I turn t
o Keagan with a look of disgust. “What is going on? What is this place?”

“This is going to be your new home. Be quiet now, you may ask all of your questions when we get to Brother Lorrus, he will e
xplain everything to you.” He replies with a stern look in his eyes, he taps his musket as if to illustrate his point. Roger that!

The wagon finally comes to a halt in front of a house. It is absolutely beautiful, made completely of polished wood. T
he entire building is covered in carvings, not just the door. I can tell from several feet away that they are scenes of epic battles and horrific scenes of disasters. Eddie jumps down from the front of the wagon and comes around to the back.

“Let’s go, I don’t have all day. Keagan grab the other one.” He
instructs Keagan as he grabs a hold of my upper arm and drags me out of the wagon. I can barely keep my feet under me; my balance is completely thrown off. I think the effects of the cereal are still yet to completely wear off. 

“Don’t hurt Chelsey” I throw over my shoulder as I’m being dragged t
owards the building.

“I would worry about myself if I were you.” Eddie tells me without sto
pping.

This building is easily
ten times bigger than the others I had seen. The inside is just as spectacular as the outside but, to my surprise, it has a large staircase that leads to a second floor. The staircase is covered with a thick, lush red carpet. The walls inside look exactly the same as the outside, completely covered in carvings of what appeared to be Gods, sitting on their thrones. The sheer beauty of it takes my breath away, there is one carving that catches my eye the most, it is that of one of a goddesses standing on top of a rock just watching a wolf and her cubs. She has eyes made of two sparkling blue sapphires.

All too soon I am reminded of my
current predicament with a jolt. Eddie and I come to a sudden standstill in front of a closed wooden door. He straightens his clothes and steadies himself before knocking on the door once and then waiting. There must be someone very important in there, I hope I am about to meet the Brother Lorrus that Keagan had spoken about; finally get some answers to all of the questions I have.

“Enter
!” says a deep voice from within the room. Just the voice alone fills me with fear. It’s a voice that demands respect.

We make our way into the room. It is dark but I can tell it is a room where a man spends most of his
time; the furniture has sharp angles and shines with a glossy finish. The man that sits behind the desk is a monster of a man, bulging with muscles, caramel skin and a sharp angular face. His intense blue eyes take me in, a calculated look on his face.  He smirks and gives Eddie a knowing look

“So this is her
, the Young Creator everyone has been talking about?”

“Yes Brother Lorrus, this is Trish. She is the one that I have been telling you about
from Dalton Academy.” He replies, a slight trepidation to his voice. Eddie sounds scared.

“Well, well, well
. Let me take a look at you, not too much to you is there? How old are you girl?” Brother Lorrus looks me up and down as he speaks; it sends a shiver down my spine.

“I am 17 n
ow. I’ll be 18 in another month or so” I tell him my eyes glancing back and forth between him and Eddie.

I hav
e no idea what is going on, these people seem to have completely lost their mind. Why do they keep referring to me as a Young Creator? My body hurts and I’m frightened beyond belief. I get to the point.

“You need to tell me
what’s going on here! I don’t know who you think you are? But you cannot hold Chelsey and I here against our wills! You are criminals and you will be held accountable for this!” I yell at them.

This doesn’t please Brother Lorrus at all.
“I do realize that you’re new here. But let’s get just one thing straight right now young lady, you will not speak to any of us in that tone ever again! Do we understand each other?” he bellows at me, making me shake uncontrollably with fear and I remember the woman that I saw getting her hands whipped in the street and the children covered in blood.

“I am going to explain this to you only once and then I be
tter not ever hear anything but sweet words come out of your mouth again” he tells me. “You were selected to be a part of our community; we are a brotherhood of Guardians called the Artemisians. We get our name from the goddess of light and protector of the vulnerable, Artemis. We have a long history of protecting the human race from destruction. You may have heard Eddie here refer to you as a Young Creator. These people are a direct descendent of a people called The Creators. 

The Creators were a group of women that were able to manipulate ma
tter into things that they imagined, or affect the space around an object to physically move it.”

“But I’m not …” I begin.

He ignores my interjection and continues “I realize that this may be very hard to believe, but every human being has some form of creating ability in them. Take ordinary women for instance, they can create new life inside of them. The Creators were worshipped by everyone, and for the longest time they made life itself simply beautiful.”

“Great, but what does this
have to do with me?” I inquire.

He continued his story, ignoring my question
once again “Greed and selfishness slowly influenced the hearts of the younger Creators however, so much so that over time they stopped bringing happiness to the world and instead began living for their own benefit. They were driven by their own personal gain. This brought much pain and destruction to the world around them.

When the oldest Creators noticed this evil infiltrating the younger ge
nerations she turned to her most loyal servants. All of them young men, strong, selfless and noble. The old Creator placed her trust in this group of men, imagining that they would not be influenced by any of the Young Creators. It was widely thought that throughout time the young men would help protect the human race. She had picked her servants because they supposedly were related to the goddess Artemis.”

He pauses
momentarily to take a sip of water “To answer your latest question, you are a direct descendent of the oldest of The Creators. This Creator was the most powerful; she managed to withstand the power of the darkness for the longest. This bloodline is why you can move things with your imagination Trish, the car, the dogs; they’re all thanks to your heritage. A heritage that you should be most proud of.”

I just
stand and stare at him in disbelief, my mouth gaping. I have just received an answer to the question that is at the forefront of my mind I don’t know if I can believe him. I simply just can’t fathom that this man, these men, everyone here believes what they are doing here is for anybody’s good.