-Act I-
But First.
But First.
There is a story to tell, I'm sure you know.
As I've told you, the cards have been drawn. You, and the people you love most, will be faced with many challenges ahead, some undreamed of by your wildest imaginings. You will learn about yourself. You will learn about each other. There will be danger, of course, but if your light burns brightly, I trust you can achieve your goal.
But, for every story, there is a beginning. *chuckles* I must admit, I loathe beginnings, myself. This one however, must be told, by each and every one of you. Every story is its own, and every hero has a story.
So, let us quit dawdling, shall we?
Let the adventure begin.
16
A boy laid in his bed, his bright orange hair messied and wild, yet perfectly the way he wanted it to be. He started at the ceiling, the brightest white money could by. From his peripheral vision, he could see the strips of sunlight that landed on his bed. The whirring fan, efficient and silent. And his alarm clock, about to--
EERT EERT EERT
The boy closed his eyes. Ugh, he hated that sound. It was so disruptive, so angry. His mother deemed it to be efficient, after all, "we aren't trying to wake you like royalty". Angrily, resentfully, he pawed at the alarm clock. It deflected his blows..without really trying.
EERTEERTEERT
The boy opened his eyes, and slapped it. It cut off with a deathly speed. Sitting up, he ran his fingers through his hair, and looked outside. A cliff, descending into a vast beach, greeted him. The water methodically brushed against the beige sand, creating what was surely a crescendo of natural music, blocked by the heavy windows and walls of his mother's abode. The roads were empty today, surprising for a weekend. Aiden felt very alone.
Shower, brush teeth, get dressed. It had become a wheel; a summary of the opening hour of Aiden's life. Day in, day out. He had noticed recently that he had begun to take the same number of paces, the same turns, the same patterns for lathering his hair. He charted them, and as he thought, the charts didn't lie. Disappointing, to say the least.
He dressed in his usual casual button-up and jeans, the attire he felt most comfortable with. As he walked across the white halls of the Beach-Side mansion, he saw a note on his mother's kitchen countertop, a minimalist masterpiece if ever there was one. He picked it up, his mother's perfect handwriting seemingly glaring at him through the page.
Aiden:
Some stuff at the office surfaced. I will most likely not be home until later this evening.
If you completed all of your studies, you are permitted to enjoy your Saturday. Don't
leave the house.
-Mom
Just like her.
Putting the note down, and grabbing an apple, Aiden sat down at the kitchen table, his laptop already up and running. He double clicked his chat client, represented to him by a small lab vial. He thought it was quaint. Looking through his Friends List, he saw few were online yet. Must not be awake, he thought.
Suddenly, a pink name sprung to life. Clicking it, Aiden typed up a message:
busted_trail::lorikeet
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busted_trail: hey Lola
youre up early
