Brook Hope

Sliding under a tree root, I manage to keep my pace up and stay in front of him.

      "Brook~!" He calls through the trees, "Why are you running from me, Honey?" I can hear the twigs snapping under his feet, the branches breaking as he pulls them aside, and even the harsh, angry curses he's muttering under his breath.

I close my eyes tight against the mental image of him.

Big mistake.

My foot catches on one of the smaller roots of a tree, sending me rolling down the side of a hill. My head comes into contact with something hard and sharp. When I lift it up again, there's a warm liquid starting to run down the side of my vision.

I need to get up, I must get up!

However, my body isn't moving as fast as it once was. My brain's messages are sluggish. The world is spinning without any sign of stopping.

     "There you are!" A handful of my hair is yanked up, making my head follow suit. I cry out and start to struggle, attempting to grab his hand. "Damn it! You got hurt! Boss is going to kill me!" As he speaks, I can see his other hand moving out of the corner of my eye. It goes into his pocket and pulls out a needle filled with some sort of blurry substance.

     "Let go of me!" I cry as I swing out my hand in an attempt to make him drop the vial.

Suddenly, the air goes cold. Our breathing is visible by little puffs of smoke that float away. He lets out a short cry as his hand drops me, I scramble away before I realize that he isn't following me. I slowly turn around, completely prepared to run again if this is a trick.

He's on the ground with his hands on his stomach. There's a gurgling sound starting to come from him before he falls completely still. I creep towards him while my heartbeat thumps rapidly in my ears. My hand reaches out of its own accord, touching his shoulder. I use of my child strength to turn him into his back instead of his side.

My eyes widen as I see a reddened spike of ice embedded deep into his side, his eyes blank and dull as they stare into the nothingness.

Before I even know what's happening, there's a high pitched, deafening noise taking over the thumping of my heartbeat.

It's only until my throat starts to hurt that I realize it's me screaming.

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I wake up with a start, my knuckles white as they grab the blankets around me. There's a soft jingling noise as the wind chime outside my window sings it's greetings to me.

Yeah, nice to hear you too.

I groan quietly and rub the palms of my hand against my eyes, bending over my knees to fold in half.

It's been years since I've had that nightmare, what could've brought it up now? School isn't that bad...

"Brook?" The door you my room opens and brings with it a light, "Sweetie, what are you doing awake?" John Stewart, my foster father, peeks his head in with his eyes glistening worry in the dim lighting.

    "It isn't like I meant to wake up." I grumble as he walks in and sits down gently on the edge of my bed. His hand on my knee helps calm me as I take a deep breath. "It was that dream again, the one with that man... and the ice..."

    "It's alright, Sweetheart." He mummers as he pulls my head close to him and holds me for a moment. We stay like this for a while before he pulls away from me and holds me at arms length, offering a smile. "Want some hot chocolate?"

    "Always." I chuckle as he stands so that I can get up. We get downstairs and I take my seat at the island bar as he moves behind it to get to the mugs and powder. Words aren't needed, as both of us are exhausted with the clock reading 3:25 in the morning.

School is going to be a bitch.

I let out a light groan that makes John chuckle as he adds more powder to mine in response. With him being a police officer, he's probably mixed in more than powder with his to keep himself awake. It takes five minutes for the hot water to heat up, and then we're sitting across from each other at the bar.

    "At least it's Friday, right? When you get come from school tonight you can just go to bed and sleep in." He comments as he takes a sip from his mug, "Speaking of which, I don't know whenever I can get off work tonight."

    "It's alright, Ben and I were going to find a movie someplace." I shrug as I almost gulp the entire thing down.

Strange Fact #1: I don't get burned when drinking or eating something hot.

I can get burned plenty other than that, being the curious cat I am I almost killed myself trying to test out the limits of this. The doctor's said it was simply my immune system that was more advanced that most or something.

I've been calling it my superpower since I was twelve.

     "Speaking of Ben, when do you think he'll ask you out already?" The words make me choke and I set the cup down as coughing seizes me. He bursts out laughing and quickly attempts to cover it up with his hand. "I mean, it's obvious he has something for you. He's always looking at you whenever you're not looking, he'll call me sometimes if he knows I'm off to ask about you, too."

That last part made my cheeks flush as I blinked at the marble atop the counter.

He... he likes me? Could Benjamin really like me?

He's been my friend since that first day I went to school, the only one to every approach me about a friendship too. Everyone else says I'm too cold to come close too. Apparently something about my resting face? I don't know.

     "There's no way." I protest as I manage to swallow without dying again. "He just worries about me, I'm pretty much a loner in school - he knows he's my only friend. I would check on him too if we switched places."

     "I'm betting forty bucks that if you opened his journal, you would find Mr. and Mrs. Mishal." He slams his hand on the table for emphasis, "With a little heart and everything."

Ben, unlike me, is an amazing artist. He carries a sketchbook around with him, and when he finds something that inspires him, he'll sit down and draw it. But I've never been allowed to look through it. I've never asked either. It's something private.

    "I wouldn't invade his personal space like that." I huff, "I thought you knew me better."

     "Wimp." He mumbles before taking a long sip of his drink. I'm sent into a shocked silence for a second as I narrow my eyes.

Did... Did he just...

      "Is that a challenge?" I raise an eyebrow as I take on the best cocky look I can. He takes his time setting his mug down and wiping his mouth with a napkin before he even looks at me.

"Very much so." He snickers as he stands and digs in his back pocket for a second, pulling out two twenties and setting them on the table. "Forty bucks says that it's there."

"I'll raise that." I scoot back and open a drawer to the bar to pull out a wad of cash that I keep together. "Sixty says there's nothing in there about us getting together."

"No estoy de acuerdo." He shakes his finger at me as he flips to his Spanish roots, knowing I wouldn't have a clue what they said. "I raise ten to say that there will be at least one smutty picture in there that he's conjured. I was once a high school boy, you know."

"Yeah, back when the dinosaurs roamed." I roll my eyes as I pull out a ten and a five, "I raise five more to say the dirtiest thing in there will be the sketch of the ground." I try to ignore that my face has a heat creeping up into it from my neck.

"Deal." He puts the rest of the money on the table before holding out his hand, "May the best one win."

"May the best win." I agree as I take the handshake. Instead of putting the cash back into the drawer - as he's now seen that hiding place - I take it with me and finish the rest of my cup. "I have an essay to finish up-"

"- you mean start." He interrupts as he takes another sip.

"- for History, so goodnight." I finish with a playful glare his way. He beams innocently enough for a police officer and I return to my room upstairs.

Considering I just bet seventy-five dollars against his crush, I'm honestly hoping I can get into that sketchbook soon to put this to rest.

I slid the wad of cash behind some books in a bookcase in the hallway before closing the door to my bedroom for the night. The wind chimes sing their lullaby at me as I take one look at my laptop and turn towards my bed.

No way I'm doing that before six, procrastination has never failed me, and it won't fail me yet.