My Current Project

Every year, just after September, I set myself a project to complete–whether it be a set of poems written, an act of a play or a novel/short story. This year, my project is going to be a novel.

It’s basically a crime/thriller novel with a sense mystery incorporated into it, too. It’ll be online and available to read as I go along and it is free to read on the website Wattpad. I’ll post the link to it below for anyone who wants to read it. Why post it online in chapters instead of writing it fully? Well, because it gives me motivation. Online readers will comment on a chapter and maybe even like it and I get motivated to write.

I think E-books and Online reading are becoming more popular day-by-day so I better use the trend to my advantage, no?

Anyway, here’s the link for you guys who would want to read it. (I hope there are some.) I’m open to constructive criticism, too. So don’t be shy to say what you think could be improved and, maybe, what parts you liked. The story will be regularly updated, too.

http://www.wattpad.com/story/23695253-tick-tock-goes-the-clock

Breaking Free – My contest entry

I have been away for far too long, I know. However, I did so with good intention. Over the last month or two, I’ve been away to the US, attending my cousin’s wedding – crying a lot during it, too – and just having some time off. I’ve also been planning a short story that I’ve recently entered in a contest on the well-known writing platform ‘Wattpad’.

But I’m back! and ready to blog a lot more.

If you’d like to check out my story then I’ll provide a link to the book below, but here’s a small paragraph of the story to help make your mind up:

She gapes as multi-coloured fireworks fly off into the sky and resonate a loud boom that leaves a thump of excitement ricocheting off her ribcage and around her heart. She’s so engrossed in the moment, she doesn’t notice Rory’s smooth hands sliding into hers, fingers slowly latching over one another. Rory revels in how the fireworks exposes the golden flecks within Jess’ irises – like the child within Jess has been revived – and his eyes linger a little too long on her candy lips that shine to the exploding colours of the sky.

http://www.wattpad.com/story/21561077-breaking-free

If you do check it out, I thank you in advance.

Catch you soon!

Just mates

His eyes speaks with a thousand words that don’t seem to reach me and as if my heart wasn’t already beating erratically, he leans his head a little so that it rests on my arm and the warmth flows through my skin and into my bones, and I wonder if I’ve been holding my breath for the past 17 years.

And I know, now, that maybe I will never live a normal life as a normal boy who goes to normal school and meets a normal guy or girl and falls in love normally, that this boy with hair perfectly suiting him in any style he puts it in and cheeks so defined yet so innocent and hands so gentle and calm— that he can maybe bring me that one thing any other normal boy has: the feeling of falling in love –

And it’s cheesy and cliché and that these are elements and sentiments one would normally attach to a tragic young lover trying to court their significant other in one of the pages of those worn out books young teenagers read to hope that one day a real life tragic lover could court them in the same loving and overly romantic way, but I feel that way. Love at first sight.

To this boy. This, out of the blue, unexpected, crazy yet enigmatic boy who’s standing here, in front of me, with pouted lips and furrowed eyes, fighting with himself over the decision of chow mein or curry. This is the boy I’m falling for.

And I’m his tragic lover.

An Unexpected Encounter

Haven’t posted in a while, I’m truly sorry about that. However, I have been busy – drowning in schoolwork and so on – and had to devote some of my time to my writing.

I don’t like to limit my audience so, therefore, I write about many things, even subjects barely ever showcased on the bookshelf of book stores. Instead of writing about a typical romance story between a boy and girl, containing typical romance story plot drivers, why not write a girl and a girl or a boy and a boy; better yet: a boy/girl coming to terms with their sexuality and learning to accept it?

So that’s exactly what I did.

This exemplar is a small section of one of my current short stories, and this chapter focuses on the main male character, Luke, and his usual trip to a club where he would pick a girl up and take her home, yet, it turns out that this trip would be far different from the others.

Once again, I apologise for my absence and hope you enjoy.

(Parental Warning: Mild description of boy-to-boy activity.)

Luke doesn’t understand that word. He thinks he never has. His mum and dad split up when he was very young and since then he believes that love doesn’t last. That’s why he would just take a random girl home every weekend for a quick fuck and then ask her to leave – not before the girl leaves a dark red handprint on his cheek.

So it’s no surprise that he plans on doing the exact same thing tonight. Luke fixes his blue, chequered shirt and buttons it up all the way to the top. He rolls the sleeves halfway up his arm and adjusts the silver watch that sits comfortably on his wrist. He admires himself at the mirror for a while and boy was he glad he grew up to be good looking. He loved having short sandy-blonde hair that looks immaculate in any style he puts it in. He decides to have it styled into a small quiff and grins at the outcome. Also, he adores his eyes, they never failed to attract a girl; its icy blue colour draws women like a moth to its flame. He loves a good tan and whenever the sun’s out and he has nothing to do, he enjoys to lie in his ginormous garden, sporting only a small, tight pair of underwear, and get a tan. Now his skin is a magnificent caramel colour that compliments the abs he endeavoured to get over the years.

Luke looks around his room, searching for the pair of jeans he just pulled out but his room is such a mess and there are piles of trash everywhere that it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. He goes on his knees and starts to throw pieces of paper and empty pizza boxes to the side. Luke grunts and gets up. In a fast pace, Luke walks out the door, down the hallway and knocks on his roommate’s door, Terrence.

“Hold on a minute!” Terrence calls out. Luke rolls his eyes and checks his watch. It is nearly ten o’clock and they are supposed to be there by half-ten. Luke begins to impatiently tap his foot against the oak-wooded floor and glares at the door.

“Oh for fucks sake, hurry up!” Luke throws his arms up in exasperation and this time bangs on the door.

He hated waiting, especially if he was left waiting for a stupid reason. He just wants to go and shag a desperate girl and show her how it’s done. Finally there is a sound coming from the other side of the door and Luke crosses his arms. The door clicks and it swings open, revealing Terrence in a plum coloured polo shirt and tight black jeans which shows his taut legs. Terrence was one of those people who cared about how they look. It probably would have taken an hour or so – and trying on every outfit he owns – to decide on what he would finally wear. But even Luke can’t deny the fact that Terrence always looks smashing in the end of the process – not that he’d admit that to him.

“What you want?” Terrence asks, smiling at Luke. It’s hard not to notice Terrence’s set of perfect white teeth when he grins. “And… why are you only wearing a shirt and really, really tight boxers?” He adds as he eyes Luke from bottom to top. A small blush creeps on his cheeks.

Luke looks down and realises that Terrence was right, he only had on his Calvin Klein boxers and yes, it was really tight; there is a visible bulge protruding out of it – Luke believes that is something worth to be proud of.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugs. “But, man, stop staring. You can go find another cock to suck later on, if you have a spare pair of jeans I can borrow so that we can actually go to the club.”

Terrence blushes even harder before retreating back inside his room. Luke follows him and closes the door behind. Terrence’s room was probably the tidiest and neatest room Luke has ever set foot in. The bed was always made and Luke can’t help but laugh whenever he sees Terrence’s Ian Somerhalder duvet where Ian is completely topless. He doesn’t understand why Terrence would ever go for guys, then again, Luke never understood sexuality…or love, as a matter of fact. Terrence walks over to his wardrobe and opens it, revealing a colour-coded, systemised order of clothes. There’s a special section, which Terrence calls: ‘The Shareable Clothes,’ that is organised for clothes that Terrence can tolerate sharing or lending Luke. However, if Luke touches any other items of clothing that isn’t in that specified section, then Terrence turns into the Hulk and has a massive fit in which he avoids Luke, eats ice cream and watches films. Luke is only ever forgiven once he cleans and irons and folds the clothes he used.

Terrence isn’t a bad guy at all. Luke thinks it’s his reserve and meek nature that attracts all the guys. It’s exactly the same with Luke, with girls of course; he likes to break the innocence of the girls he emotionlessly fucks. Perhaps Terrence’s dark brown hair that owns the most perfectly swept fringe, which slightly covers his emerald green eyes that are so rich in colour you can almost feel yourself fall into them, and his flawless smile; and the tiny dimples that form whenever he laughs also contribute to the reasons why guys can’t keep their hands off him.

It’s true. Both of them are gorgeous, and oh do they know it.

Still, there’s one thing that separates Terrence from Luke: it’s his longing to be in a loving relationship. Although he won’t admit it, Terrence always hates the part when the guy wakes up, puts on his pants, says bye and walks away from his life forever. It feels like they are walking away with a small piece of his soul and with every time he has sex, it becomes more meaningless to him.

Terrence pulls out a pair of midnight blue jeans that Luke has to squeeze himself to get into and hands it over to him. Luke nods his head and says his ‘thank you’ before walking out. Not before teasing Terrence for the new posters of Paul Wesley, Niall Horan, Josh Hutcherson and Liam Henderson that have been put up on his walls. It’s gotten to the point where one wall is completely covered in posters that you can no longer see any traces of the blue paint of the wall.

Luke ambles back into his room and laughs as he sees his mess. “Exactly how I like it,” he chuckles before jumping on his bed – which has a boring, plain black duvet – and endeavours to squeeze himself into the pair of jeans. After a few minutes of groaning, grunting and air-kicking, Luke is in his jeans and pulls on a pair of white socks – well, it used to be white until it spent a night on Luke’s floor.

“Come on!” Terrence calls from the hallway and Luke rolls his eyes. No one tells him to hurry up.

“Calm your tits, I’m coming,” Luke shouts back and grabs his leather jacket from the back of his door and slings it over his shoulders. He walks out and sees Terrence fixing his hair in the hallway mirror. He sneaks up behind him and just as he is within range, he screams and runs his fingers through his hair.

“You dick!” Terrence cries in horror as he stares at his reflection and the now dishevelled hair that sits on his head. Luke finds it hard to breathe from all the laughing he is doing and has to hold himself up by grabbing the handle of the front door.

“Tonight’s gonna be fun,” Luke smiles while Terrence glares at him. He gives Terrence a wink and a smirk before opening the door and dashing out and into the cold night air. His blood was pumping and his senses were heightened; he can’t keep still and runs towards Terrence’s car, hearing each beat of his heart with every step. He can feel the adrenaline taking its toll and Luke just wants to go.

Luke sees Terrence emerge out the door shortly after and his fringe is fixed, yet he wears the same angered and annoyed face. Luke smirks as he unlocks the car and they both climb in; Luke in the passenger seat, and Terrence in the driver’s seat.

“I fucking hate you,” Terrence states and turns on the engine. The roar of the car blends with the heavy sounds of laughter emanating from Luke and soon they are driving off, through the empty streets of their neighbourhood and into the bustling nightlife of town.

This is how Luke likes it: the blinding flash of the many coloured lights, the music pounding against his eardrum, in risk of bursting, and the view of many girls dancing quite erotically on the dance floor. Luke smirks as he watches two girls, both sporting very short, shorts that defines their large ass, making out. He imagines himself being in bed between them two, and he has to take a big drink of his beer to keep everything below calm and flaccid.

Terrence, on the other hand, was walking around slowly and seductively, surveying tonight’s crowd for any possible men he could lure in. His eyes land on a guy with raven black hair, hazel eyes, a small stubble on the chin, and a lip-hoop piercing.  It doesn’t take more than a second for him to realise that it was the guy he first hooked up with during his first visit of this club. And still, his name has adhered itself to the sides of his mind, screaming down his ears like an unwanted mantra.

It isn’t until the guy stares back when Terrence breaks his gaze. But it was too late, and he knew it. His hands are beginning to sweat and he keeps forcing himself to take sips of his drink, hoping he’d quickly get drunk so that he won’t have any clue to what is about happen when he wakes up tomorrow morning – hopefully in another guy’s bed.  Still, it isn’t enough and Terrence finds himself staring into that pool of hazel.

“Terrence, is that you?” The guy says, unsure.

Terrence opens his mouth to speak but words get gobbled up and tangled in his throat and only strange, alien-like noises pass his lips. He realises it immediately and shuts his mouth to prevent any further humiliation; he stares at the floor to hide the tomato red blush that’s formed on his cheeks. So instead of answering, he nods, sheepishly.

“Oh man! How are you?” The guy suddenly perks up and Terrence feels a light pressure on his shoulder. He looks at it to find a hand resting on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He stares at the can of beer in his hand and contemplates whether he should just down the whole thing and hope to get drunk or see where this is going.

He decides with the latter. Terrence forces himself to look up and stare at the guy’s eyes and it doesn’t take long until he feels his knees wobble a little and the annoying and nauseating feeling he gets in the pit of stomach appears.

“H-hey J-John,” Terrence greets and forces a small smile on his face. John smiles at the sound of his name and takes a sip of his drink – which is colourful and looks completely alcoholic – before giving Terrence a cheeky wink. Terrence loves the gesture but it only worsens that feeling in his stomach and he finds himself gulping. If it weren’t for the strobe lights and dark room, he is sure that John would have noticed that moment of vulnerability.

“So,” John raises his eyebrows at him and Terrence endeavours to stop a smile from forming. “You never answered my question: how are you?”

“Oh,” Terrence perks up and mentally groans; he knew he’d get distracted so easily. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Over John’s shoulders, Terrence finds Luke dancing really close to a blue haired girl who’s is grinding on his crotch quite obviously. The smirk on Luke’s face tells it all: he wants her in bed. Now. The music gets louder and faster and everyone on the dance floor begins to jump and pump their fists. Terrence hates the music at times, but if it gets him a guy then it’s worth the effort.

“Wanna dance?” John asks, pointing to the dance floor while looking at Terrence with an amused, smug look on his face.

Terrence looks back over to the dance floor, which is now lit up in many colours; it looks like one of the disco floors you’d find back in the 80’s. Luke is now caught up in a heated make out session with the same blue haired girl. From where Terrence is standing, it looks like the girl is eating him alive and she’s using her tongue as some sort of drill to get in deeper Luke’s mouth. It brings a smile on his face and the confidence he needs to walk up and dance with John.

“Sure, why not.” Terrence says confidently, taking John’s hand and leading them to the dance floor.

They find a spot not too far away from Luke – Terrence doesn’t want to miss the show, especially if he can remind Luke of it in the morning, and watch as his face scrunches up in pure disgust because he really hates deep kissing and then curses himself for being too drunk to control himself. The smell of sex, sweat and alcohol hits them both like a truck. Terrence looks at John who is flashing him an endearing smile. He wonders if John is drunk, or if he’s aware of what he’s doing. He never thought John would be one to pounce on used meat; he always imagined him to be the kind of guy who fucks another guy and leaves, leaving no trace of his existence, whatsoever.

So when John places a hand on his waist and slowly pulls him closer, his body yells and screams at him to move away and the heat John’s touch gives him burns so intensely that his cheeks turn tomato-red in an instant. Still, he chooses to ignore the alarm bell that’s ringing in his mind and slowly leans in to the touch.

“What are you doing?” Terrence asks, curious of John’s motives.

“Dancing,” John replies, “Why?”

“Because this is the position for a couple who are about to slow dance, not rave to techno music.” Terrence states in a mocking tone of voice, but there is also a hint of amusement that underlies it.

John pauses. “Well, I don’t want to follow the crowd. I want to stand out,” he lifts one of his hands to Terrence’s fringe and sweeps it to the left, fully revealing his green eyes, which looks purple under the changing colours of the club lights, and it captivates John who is instantly grinning in adoration. There is a glint in John’s eyes and Terrence isn’t sure if it was because of something he did or just the flashing lights above them.

“Stand out?” Terrence presses further, completely perplexed.

“Yes,” The music quiets down enough for them not to have to shout at each other. “I want to stand out because then it’s just me and you.”

Terrence isn’t sure whether that kicking feeling inside his chest is from his stomach rumbling because he hasn’t eaten in a while or his heart trying to leap out of it. The words ‘me and you’ sticks to him and Terrence can no longer fight the grin he’s endeavoured to suppress.

“Me and you,” Terrence whispers so that only he would hear it.

“What?” John asks, not being able to hear him.

Terrence pauses and looks at Luke who is now pushing away the girl. Looks like someone’s sobered up! Terrence thinks as he watches Luke spit and spit and spit before taking some random guy’s beer from their hand and chugging it down rapidly, desperately trying to flush away all the saliva she must have injected into his mouth.

But Terrence doesn’t mind a good kiss. “I said,” he says, staring endearingly at John, “kiss me.”

And John was on those lips faster than a lion pouncing on his meal.

Terrence has to admit that it taste a little funny; saliva mixed with, what Terrence believes to be, Cider. Nevertheless, these were the first lips he kissed in this club and he remembers how gentle they were back then; how rough the stubble on his chin felt against his; how he would always teasingly bite his lower lip; and how he would always take control of the kiss. And still, all those things, he does in this kiss and Terrence just loves it.

And this is where it all gets saucy. (Which is expected when you put two, horny gay guys together.)

“Wanna come back to my place?” John asks, breathless from the kiss.

Terrence doesn’t hesitate to nod and John is already leading him out the club, pushing couples and random strangers out their way. Terrence spots Luke by the bar and realises he needs to tell him he won’t be going home and that he can take his car to drive back.

“Hold on,” Terrence says and let’s go of John’s hand.

He quickly rushes over to Luke, knocking over a highly intoxicated girl who was twerking rather badly. Terrence taps Luke on the shoulder and he turns around.

“What the fuck do you want?” He yells but softens once he sees who it is. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just been tongued by an ugly girl.” Terrence finds his callous attitude to be somewhat annoying and always believed him to be cynical, but Luke always said that it wasn’t being cynical or insensitive; it was just being honest.

“I know; I saw.” Luke scrunches up his face and looks away from Terrence.

“Oi! Bartender, get me a shot of vodka!” He orders quite arrogantly and looks back at Terrence. “So what do you want?”

“I’m going back to John’s house so you can take my car to get home.”

“John – as in your first fuck, John?”

Terrence nods and Luke grins. “Yeah, well, I’ll catch you later.”

And with that, Terrence left without giving Luke another word for input.

“Lucky son of a bitch is getting laid while I’m here cleaning out my mouth from that fucking disgusting girl!” Luke chides.

The bartender returns with his shot and Luke grabs it off of his hand and throws its contents down his throat. His mind is already pounding and his muscles, for some reason, are burning, but he doesn’t care; he just wants to forget and release himself for tonight.

“Is this seat free?” A voice comes from his left and he turns to find a guy with dark brown hair that has a quiff in the front and a pair of oddly intriguing, sapphire blue eyes. Luke can smell his cologne from where he is seating and there is no hint of sweat, so he must have just entered.

“Sure; go for it,” Luke gestures for him to seat down and he does. However, his eyes remain on this stranger as he asks the bartender for a pint of beer.

“You know, pictures last longer,” he jokes with a grin that makes Luke smile, too.

“Erh – uhm, sorry.” Luke stutters over his words and quickly looks forward, avoiding the gaze that’s boring into his sides.

“No worries, I don’t mind actually; it’s flattering.”

“Dude, erh, I’m not – um, I-I’m n-not g-gay!” Luke informs him without even looking at the guy, and the guy finds it amusing.

“Oh, okay. Sorry-“

“It’s no problem.”

“So,” The guy extends his hand and Luke turns to take it. “I’m Andy, how about you?”

Luke pauses and looks warily at Andy, deciding what his motives from introducing himself might be. Then he thinks he’s just thinking way too much and should just go with the flow.

“I’m Luke.”

Andy smiles and their hands remain linked longer than usual. Luke blushes upon realising this and immediately draws his hand away.

“Do you mind if I stick with you tonight?” Andy asks, casually, as if he didn’t feel the same electric sensation Luke did from the touch. “I don’t really know anyone.”

Luke perks up upon hearing the question and smiles genuinely. “Sure!” he claims a little too happily and Andy chuckles.

Yeah, maybe the rest of tonight won’t go so bad for him.

A Truly Madly Deadly Secret.

At this age, we are told to discover what it is we want to become in the near future; what we work and aspire to be. And I have found mine. Although it is rather a hard and ambitious career I hope to pursue, it is one I thoroughly enjoy doing and I hope to do so in the near future.

What could it be, you may ask? Well, it’s to be an author. I love to write, basically. It becomes an activity of release that sends my body in a realm of pure ecstasy and comfort.

I have written and still continue to write. And for all of you out there, I want to show a small exemplar of my works.

This book is titled: A Truly Madly Deadly Secret. (Enjoy :D)

———

Focus.

I can feel a bead of sweat dripping down my forehead. I tense my muscles, squinting my eyes on the yellow ball in front of me, my arms become taut, causing the veins to pop out. And just like that, I enter a state of complete focus. I don’t see the ball as a ball, but a sphere of particles. I imagine being able to move those particles, commanding them to move with my mind.

Rise! I say in my mind, and the ball slowly complies; it begins to levitate above the cold tiles of the floor. I could feel adrenaline surge through my veins and my heart begins to beat faster and harder, so hard that I could feel the vibrations resonate throughout my body. I keep my eyes on the ball, it’s slowly rising still; it’s just reached the height of my waist – and I’m quite tall: five foot and eleven inches, to be exact.

“That’s it Liam,” I could hear my instructors voice behind me. “Stay focused.” His voice was placid, which wasn’t very inciting.

I keep my eyes on the ball and decide to take it up another level. Circle me! The ball didn’t hesitate to do as I told and it began to circle around me at an incredible speed, it was so fast that you couldn’t even see it; it became a blur.

But with it travelling at such a high speed, I couldn’t keep my eyes on it and it suddenly flew out of my control and bounced off the wall, hitting my head on its rebound. I place my hand at the site of impact and began to gently rub it. So that didn’t go quite to plan.

“That’s what you get for being so cocky, Liam.” My instructor lightly reprimanded, his arms folded across his broad and muscular chest. “Seriously, you’re just as bad as the Aquatics when it comes to training; so cheeky and impatient: a virtue that brings upon the downfall of a man in combat.”

“I am not cheeky, nor impatient!” I retort through gritted teeth. As a Telekinetic, I should value patience and selflessness to truly understand my surroundings… but that is something I’m currently having trouble with. Not that I’d admit it, especially to my egotistic instructor.

“Maybe those were a bad choice of words,” He says through a small chuckle. “How about: Pretentious. Yes, that’s exactly what you are.”

“And what does that even mean?”

“It means, you try hard to impress.”

Hearing that was like having venom slowly injected into your veins. It hurts. To know that someone would believe that everything I do is for such a selfish purpose; I don’t try to impress; I try to push myself to my boundaries. I need to know how far I can control my power and if it means to ‘try hard’ then so be it.

I see the yellow ball in my periphery, its idly sitting in the corner of one of the four steeled-walls that makes up the training-room. I look towards my instructor with a flat expression on my face. He’s standing there, smugly; a smirk plastered on his big lips. Let’s wipe that smirk off your petty little face, shall we.

“So,” I started, trying to distract him. Rise! And the ball slowly does. “How can I keep a better control of the object I’m manipulating?” I ask, slightly curious but more for the fact that I know it’ll keep him talking.

He smiles at my question. He enjoys it when he can teach me something: it makes him feel more superior. “Well, you can’t just see the object, you have to try and feel it, too.” He explained, his voice sounded passionate. This was probably why he became an instructor. The theory behind telekinesis really enticed him from a young age. My mum always told me that he would read books on how to strengthen his powers and by the age of twenty, he became one of our leading Telekinetic.

“Feel it, huh?” I ask, cocking my head to one side. I could see the ball reach the height of his head. “Well, try feeling this!” I quickly say and jerk my head forwards, sending the ball flying towards him like lightning.

Its path was leading straight to his forehead. A feeling of achievement erupted inside me, but it soon subsided as I watched the ball stop, dead, just in front of him. Then, with no warning, it shot straight towards me and hit me square on the forehead. It didn’t hurt a lot, but it had enough momentum to send me stumbling backwards. I lean on the wall to support me, its cold surface cooling my hands which grew hot from all the excitement.

“Did YOU feel it?” he says rather smug, the smirk grew even wider.

“You know,” I start, pushing myself off the wall and rubbing my forehead. “You’re a real dick, at times.” I smirk at him and he trails over and gives me a light punch on the arm.

“Don’t use that word in front of your instructor,” he says lightly, but there is a sense of seriousness to it, too. “Idiot.” He adds before turning to one of the walls.

I watch as his brown eyes dilute and his eyebrows press together causing a crease to form in between them. His breathing stills – I watch his chest slowly rise and fall – he raises his hand, pressing the palm of it against the wall. The room tenuously trembles and I watch the wall slowly retreat back down to the ground, then the wall next to it started to fall down, then the next, until the final wall has retreated and we were once again part of the Supernatural Ability Training Hall. (Or SATH as we liked to call it.)

The hall was rather big and was divided into four sections: The section we’re standing in is specifically for those who use the mind to manipulate the environment around us, so the Protectors, Telekinetics and Deceivers trained here. To control our powers, we have to be able to focus, so our instructors would always enclose us in a room, separating us from the other supernatural beings, just like mine did.

The neighbouring section were for the Elementalists: The Aquatics, Pyromaniacs, Subterras and the Aeris. Everyone in this Hall is either sixteen going seventeen or just turned sixteen. Our powers unlock once we turn sixteen. I’ve been sixteen for six months now and I’ve spent the majority of this year confined in that small training room. So we are all basically beginners; initiates, to make it sound less pathetic. And Initiating Elementalists couldn’t conjure their element; they can only manipulate it. Therefore, in their section lies a small pool of their element: The Subterras would have a field of dirt the size of a typical suburban backyard; the aquatics have a small pool filled with water; the pyromaniacs have a force field in the shape of a dome – which elder Protectors placed to prevent any accidental fires occurring – where a pool of lava resides. The Aeris’ don’t need anything because the resource they manipulate surrounds us constantly. I mean, we breathe in air for crying out loud, they don’t need a resource pool.

The next section are for the spiritualists: Shamans and Healers, mainly. Although they have no offensive powers, their skills are integral to the well-being of others. My mum is a healer and she spends a majority of her time in the hospital ward, taking care of those who have hurt themselves, especially at this time of year when the Arena opens.

The arena is a really silly thing, I think. It’s a place where supernatural beings above the age of eighteen go and fight, sometimes to the death. It works like a normal championship: Winner scales the ladder and heads closer to the final. But some of those idiots who apply don’t care about facing death, because the prize victory gives is worth the risk. Which I don’t completely disagree with. You earn a plethora of wealth and a reputation that never ceases to exist. You become the next ‘Supernatural Sweetheart’ and everyone will begin drowning you in adoration and affection.

The final section, however, no one apart from the Dark Magicians dare to tread on. It’s a private sector led by the lead Necromancer: Morgana Coalfey. It’s where all Necromancers train. No one dares associates with them. I once heard that an Aeris tried to speak to a Necromancer and he killed the girl in the blink of an eye and trapped her soul in his staff. Poor girl had no chance. But manipulating life and death can have its consequences; all Necromancers are pale in skin and dark rings circle their eyes, their lips are always bone-dry and cracked, and their robes emanate black smoke. So it wasn’t hard to spot a Necromancer.

Pinpricks of sunlight cascade through the windows of the hallway and fills the room with light. The hallway was modern in its architecture and it was mainly built from steel and glass, so each ray of sun would always be deflected into other parts of the room and would easily light it up.

“What time is it?” I ask, turning around to look at my instructor. He fishes out his phone from his jean pockets and reads the time.

He opens his mouth to inform me but is interrupted by another person. “It’s five to twelve, Liam.” I hear a high pitched, calm yet naturally seductive voice speak.

I turn to see one of my friends, Susan. She’s a Deceiver. They have the ability to read and control minds, and produce hallucinations. She must have read his mind before he could even tell me the time.

“Hey, Susan.” I wave at her and she bows her head at me, then to my instructor.

“You have got to stop doing that Susan.” He shakes his head and releases sighs in exasperation.

“Sorry, Luke.” She quickly apologises, fluttering her eyelids at him. Luke glares at her; he hates it when we call him by his first name. That’s why I always call him ‘Instructor’ or ‘Sir’, otherwise he’ll just make training feel like hell.

“Whatever,” he ignores her attempts of flirting and shakes his head. I try to suppress a laugh when I see Susan slump her shoulders down in annoyance. She really likes him but the funny thing is: Luke’s gay. But only the Telekinetics know that. “Okay, you guys go and have lunch. Eat a lot! Tag battle commences after lunch. Be here in an hour, got it?” He commands solemnly and Susan and I don’t hesitate to nod our heads.

Every day the two sections of the SATH come together to participate in a Tag Battle. The Necromancers don’t take part because they believe training is far more important than putting what we’ve learnt into practice. The spiritualists can’t really help because they have no offensive skills and therefore heal the injured combatants after each fight.

Each day a certain section gets to pick their partner. Yesterday was our turn and I picked my friend, Simon, who’s a pyromaniac, and we ended up beating our opponents, a duo consisting of an Aeris and Aquatic.

So that means today the Elementalists will get to pick their partners; today, Simon will pick me and I’ll take part in another Tag battle.

“So,” Susan sheepishly walks towards me, her head hanging low and innocent. “Where do you want to go?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“We can go get some Chinese. I haven’t had that in a while.”

“Sure.”

“Are we going to wait for Joh-“

And at just that moment, John himself appears. “Hey guys!” He chirps, a smile on his face. I knew the reason behind the smile, though: Susan. He’s had a crush on her since training began, but she’s become blinded by her useless pursuit for Luke.

“Have you guys seen Simon, or Lunia?” I ask, surveying the Hall, but the crowd is too big for me to spot them.

“No. Sorry,” Susan shakes her head ruefully and John shoves his hands in his pockets.

“You guys go. I’ll wait for them.” I inform them, beckoning them to go. Susan looked reluctant but John had a smirk on his face; he liked my plan. Of course you’d like to spend some alone time with Susan. A ghost of a smile plays upon my lips.

However, they did and were soon out the doors that would lead them to the Janitor’s closet of the Library where the S.A.T.H was hidden. I walk down the middle of the hallway, heading towards the Pyro-dome. As I walk, I could see a Subterra girl trying to manipulate a mound of earth by her feet. Her hairline was full of sweat and her eyes were strained, her lips were pressed into a flat line and her green eyes twinkles with determination; her hands were creating circle movements but, much to her dismay, nothing was happening.

I remember when I was just like her; when I first came here, I spent hours just staring at the ball, unsuccessful to make it move. I always became frustrated and would scream and yell at my instructor, who would then placate me and tell me to try again… and again… and again. This lasted for a good month. The first time I made the ball rise, I leapt onto Luke and screamed down his ears. He didn’t scold me. In fact, he was very proud of me.

The girl sighs in defeat and she slumps her arms down by her side. I look around to see if an instructor would come to her aid but they were far too busy training other Elementalists. I decide to take it upon myself to help her.

I amble towards the girl and place my hand on her shoulder, which immediately makes her turn and face me. Her eyes were as green as the leaves on a tree and her hair as rich and deep in brown as the soil we tread on. No wonder she’s a Subterra.

“You’re trying too hard,” I lightly tell her. “You have to just let it flow through you and make yourself feel the softness of the earth, before you can command it.”

She takes a deep breath and nods. I place my hands over her eyes and I can feel her shoulders rising and falling with each breath she takes. Then, she raises both her hands, the palms facing the floor, and I watch, completely amazed, as a wall of dirt slowly rises from the mound of soil in front of us. She, then, fluently snaps her wrists and the wall crumbles back down to the ground. A small flutter of achievement courses through me, not for my sake, but for hers.

I release my hands from her eyes and she doesn’t hesitate to turn around and engulf me in a hug. “Thank you!” She squeals into my chest. I laugh and place my hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away.

“It’s no problem,” I tell her through a chuckle. “So, what’s your name then?”

“Elizabeth,” She smiles, “Elizabeth Wills.”

My mouth drops at the information; so Luke’s little sister has now become an initiate. I scrutinise her physique: she’s not like Luke; she’s slim and fragile-looking, not broad and scary. Her face has a certain sweetness to it, it isn’t intimidating like Luke’s.

“There you are!” A breathless voice speaks from behind me. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

I turn to find Simon, bent over, hands on his knees, and breathing heavily. “I get that the Hall is big, but are you really that out of breath?” I ask, smirking a little.

“Says the guy who stands in the centre of a room for training. I had to sit in the centre of a lava pool and continually repel the incoming ripples of lava that were coming towards me. That tires you out, man!” He defends, crossing his arms across his chest – which was still rising and falling frantically.

“Well, it sucks to be you!” I snort.

“Who’s the girl, huh?” he questions, suspiciously, his eyebrows were raised.

That’s Simon for you: An annoying little twat. He always suspects that I’m chasing a girl. I mean, I use to when I first came here, but that was ages ago. Now, I don’t really find any of the girls here delectable.

He, on the other hand, was a favourite contender for the girls. I suppose it’s his silky smooth blonde hair that sweeps over his left eye which causes the girls to swoon and scream; or, perhaps it’s his piercing blue eyes that can captivate any soul that stares into it. I don’t know. I’ve never really spent my time admiring guys. I’m not gay… at least I don’t think so. Apart from that one time Luke kissed me during training – but we keep that a secret. It was an accident, anyways. (Or so he says.)

“Elizabeth, this is Simon.” I extend my arms towards Simon who nods his head towards her.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He greets her, winking his eyes, slyly.

To my disbelief, I hear Elizabeth lightly chuckle and hang her head low. “Well, hey there, Simon. It’s my pleasure to meet you.” She extends her hand and Simon shakes it, longer than usual. As she retreats her hand, I see a small blush creep its way on her cheeks.

Girls… I roll my eyes and leave the two swallows to chirp away. As I exit the Subterra training area, I could hear the voices of two males speaking to one another. I’m not one to eavesdrop but something was inciting me to listen. So I did.

“So, we’re gonna play a trick on that stupid cleaner tonight, yeah?” he says, his voice was derisive and malicious.

“Yeah, the kid has no magic, anyways. I wonder why he’s still allowed to come here.” The other guy speaks. His voice was less harsh than the other kid but the same tone of ridicule was present.

“It’s his family’s punishment. Apart from losing their magic, they must look after this building.”

“Do you know what his family did to lose their magic?”

“No. But it must be something bad.”

“Yeah. Well, how about if the pool accidentally ‘swallows’ him up… we don’t drown him of course, but, come on, it’ll be funny.”

I clench my jaw; nothing irks me more than gratuitous cruelty. I turn around to see who the boys were and find that they were a pair of Aquatics. They both had dishevelled, sandy brown hair and their body looked like twigs. I planned on going over to them and tell them to not even think about doing such a thing. That is, until an idea popped inside my head.

If you guys want a prank, you can have one. I smirk and walk away. I briskly walk towards Lunia: she will have a better knowledge of this ‘cleaner’ because she spends most her time after training helping out in the cleaning process.

I find her at her normal spot: enclosed inside a chalk-drawn circle, sitting cross-legged in the centre. Her arms were extended out, resting on her thighs, and her hands were open flat; she was meditating – an integral activity in the upbringing of a healer.

I don’t intend on interrupting her state of serenity and, therefore, sit cross-legged just on the edge of the circle and wait for her to acknowledge my presence. I watch intently as her chest rises and falls steadily, almost like a rhythm. Her hair was a dark red that flows down up to her chest. She was slim but being a Healer meant that you had to be physically fit and so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few muscles that protrude out her stomach.

I sit for a couple more minutes until I watch a ghost of a smile hover on her lips and she opens one of her eyes, revealing her purple iris. She was beautifully different than the other girls. I smile back at her and wave.

“Hi, Liam.” She greets in a whisper, closing her eyes again, but now she was visibly smiling.

“Hi,” I respond, “I was just wondering if you know who the cleaner is.”

“You mean Zack?”

“Is he the cleaner?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I mean Zack.” I smirk. Zack. Cool name.

“What about him?”

“Nothing.” I quickly lie. I don’t want to worry her with what I heard the Aquatics were going to do.

“Okay then.” She doesn’t press further and shuts herself down, refusing to let anyone to interrupt her meditation.

I sigh and leave her to it, knowing I’m not going to get anything else from her. But I do know one thing: tonight’s going to be a big surprise for the Aquatics. I chuckle lightly and head towards the exit – not before getting a few death glares from the Necromancers I pass by.

I press my fingerprint on a small indention on the wall by the door and it quickly opens. I walk through and stumble over a few cleaning supplies stashed inside the Janitors closet. See, the S.A.T.H is hidden under the Library, inside a Janitor’s closet found in the basement. It’s the perfect spot to train because with all the technology we have these days, people rarely visit the Library.

I run up the stairs that leads me into the Foyer of the Library. Walking through it, I quickly glance around and hear the familiar silence that occupies the Library. Yep, empty like always. I think as I push through the Library doors and greet the cold, chilly London air.

The Library was located in an isolated part of Western London, so there were barely any people roaming the streets to begin with. Outside the Library was a small café in which my friends and I would always have lunch in, but as Susan proposed we go for Chinese today, I know they won’t be in there and the café itself is isolated, apart from the same guy that mans the cashier every day.

The sun is shining bright and I could hear a flock of birds fly above. The rays of the sun causes the frost, that’s blanketed the London streets, to glisten beautifully. Mists past my lips with every breath I take and I supress a shiver that climbs my spine. I rub my hands together before pulling my phone out my jean pockets. I check and find a message waiting for me:

Go down the street and you’ll find a little restaurant called ‘The Empire’ and you’ll find John and me in there.

Hurry up, John’s talking about not having a girlfriend and I’m getting slightly creeped out.

  • Susan.

I chuckle at the last part of her text because I know that’s John’s not-so-subtle way of hinting to Susan that he likes her. But from what I can tell, she’s still oblivious to the lucid fact.

I pull the sleeves of my plain white tee-shirt up and check the time on my golden watch: 12:32pm. I have a good thirty-minutes before tag battle starts. Better not waste any more time.

And with that, I rush down the street, incessantly rubbing my arms to keep them awake and warm.