The End of The Beginning

Chapter 19:

            “I’m the one? What do you mean by that?” God, why is life so complicated? Why can’t I worry about normal fourteen year old stuff such as getting into college, being the youngest person to win the Nobel Prize, winning the science fair, reading all the books in my parent’s library, and, oh yeah, girls. So maybe I’m ambitious, whatever. None of this matters anymore. You know, now that I’m on the run like a fugitive and killing demons and fighting dummies with an imperial gold sword causing blood to come out of an inanimate object. What the hell?

            “Dude, that’s not normal if you haven’t noticed. It’s not the blade, we have identical blades. It’s you. You’re the one.” Kyle was gaping at me. What did I do? What have I done? I caused blood to come out of a dummy, no biggie…okay total biggie. I AM GOING INSANE! “Yo, chill, I know this is crazy for you. All this means is that billions of monsters and wolves and the orphanage and every freaking thing on this universe, they all want to kill you. Not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Not a big deal! This is a huge deal! I do not want to be on America’s Most Wanted!”

“Well good, because we aren’t in America.”

“Oh yeah, where are we?”

“Australia, duh.”

            And again, I seem to be speechless. The worst things seem to happen on or after I’m on a beach. Hopefully, this is the worst…however unlikely, I can always hope for the best. I just wish Kyle weren’t so incredibly weird.

“Hey! I’m not that weird!” he exclaimed.

“Y-you do read minds!” I gaped at him. He lied to me!

“I…dabble, yes. But not always!”

“Oh shut up!”

            He, this time, was speechless. The puny bastard had the nerve to lie to me. Imperial sword in hand, I walked ten paces away, slowly. I stood my ground in the wet sound for a moment or two and then I ran at him, sword held high above my head. When I was close, I leapt off the ground, spun around and kicked Kyle in the chest. I landed moments after he did and my knee was on his chest, sword to throat, not quite touching him, yet. He dared not speak for the slightest movement would cause a slow and painful death due to the wound. My breathing is heavy and I can feel my pulse in about five different parts of my body. I look down at my shaking arms, my veins popping out and my hand are trembling.

            I back away from the cowering fifteen year old. I do not look away for many moments, glaring bullets into his chest. I loathe this child. Keep your friends close, your enemies, closer. Kyle, simply, happens to be the latter.

Do not cross me.