Prologue

Jamie sat on her bed quietly musing to herself about the day while she brushed her hair.  The room around her was an eclectic mix of youthful exuberance and old money.  Dominating the center was a queen sized four poster bed with a emerald green comforter and large embroidered pillows.  An oversized dresser sat across from the foot of the bed, it had the unmistakable bearing of something far older than its current occupant and if a piece of furniture could be called pretentious it certainly would have deserved it.  Two elegant nightstands adorned either side of the bed made out of the same dark stained oak of the dresser and equally snobbish.  A writing desk sat in the far right hand corner in front of a tall curved window.  Scattered about on top were various drawings of animals and trees and a pre-algebra textbook.   Littering the floor were at least two days of clothes, homework assignments, and a wet towel from her earlier trip to the pool.  She had recently won the right to have her room free of the maids incessant tidying and she was still reveling in the power of keeping her room as messy as she liked it.  It still amazed her that she had actually won out in the battle of wills with her father, but maybe he was finally admitting that she was growing up.

Finished with brushing her hair the girl put her brush down on the nightstand, scooted back towards the center of the bed, and pulled her feet up underneath her so that she was sitting Indian style in the center.  She reached out and pulled the open laptop closer to her and started checking her mail.  She was about 5'3" with shoulder length red hair and blue eyes.  She didn't have much of a figure, something which at the age of 14 she was starting to become seriously morose about, but her eyes had a certain spark that few didn't notice.  Her father was a first generation Irish immigrant and her own voice had retained a small amount of his accent, just enough to give it a little distinctive flavor.  As she scaned her email for anything interesting she wondered how it was possible that you could get so many messages have so few actually worth reading.  With a frustrated sigh she closed the laptop.  She laid back and stared at the ceiling fan as she used her feet to slowly push the computer closer to the end of the bed.  Glancing to her right she spied her alarm clock and gave a disgusted sigh. 

'Five more hours till school, insomnia you're my only friend.' She thought to herself as she rolled over and slipped off the bed to her feet.  Picking up the laptop she set it down on her dresser before going to the bathroom and brushing her teeth.  After rinsing her mouth a second time she flicked the light off to her bedroom and climbed back up into the bed.  Pulling a soft flannel sheet that she had folded at the foot of the bed with her she flopped down amongst the pillows and started her nightly toss-turn ritual before eventually slipping into a fitful slumber.

"It's the end of the world as we know it, it's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine...."

Untangling myself from the sheet I slapped my hand searched my nightstand for a moment before my fumbling fingers found the snooze button on the alarm clock.  Still trying to disentangle my lower half from the sheets, I silently cursed REM and I threw in all other rock groups for good measure.  God if there was one thing worse than a Monday; it was a Monday after a long weekend.  Motivation hovering around 0 and padded my way over to my dresser pulled out the first t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks I found, laid them on the bed and then made my way to the bathroom.

I always feel a little more alive after my morning shower, and so it was with a little more energy that I got dressed and made my way down the staircase towards the kitchen.  The house was oppressively large.  Made more so by the fact that it was usually only occupied by myself and the housekeeper.  My dad traveled a lot for his business, 'Greece, I think it's Greece this time.' and I felt like a ghost haunting the houses corridors. 

When I reached the kitchen I found that Grace was already up, 'She always is, nosy blue- hair,' and had set out a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the counter.

"Well good morning Mary Sunshine," she said sarcastically as she filled a glass with orange juice and set it next to the plate, "nice to see you may actually make it to school on time today.  Remind me to note it in the calendar for your father when you get back today."  Biting back a few of my choicer comments I sat down at on one of bar stools and ate the toast before proceeding to pick at the eggs on my plate.

"You're going to be run down at school today if you don't do a better job then that." She chided as I tried to construct a replica of Van Gogh's "Moon Rising" with my eggs.

"If they didn't want me to be run down, why do they insist on starting school at such an ungodly hour?" I said with a little ice in my voice as I ate a few forkfuls of eggs, stifling further comment from the hag.

"Well if you're done run back up and get your schoolbooks so we can be off, I've got other things to do today." She said while picking up the plate and turning towards the sink.

"Yeah I'm sure its your turn to speak at the escaped Nazi support group today." I mumbled under my breath as I slipped my seat and headed back to my room.

"What was that dear?"

I didn't bother to respond.

School was, I decided, just outside the seventh circle of hell.  It's sole purpose being to demoralize, desensitize, and discourage someone from the moment they stepped into the halls.  It was an institution, for the man, by the man, and nothing but the man to suck the creativity out of people and create the next generation of middle class, tax paying Americans.  First period was world history, which consisted of a middle aged broomstick posing as a teacher rambling off insignificant facts about the Roman Empire while the students talked quietly and passed notes to one another.   I sat about three quarters of the way back and occupied myself by trying to do an impressionistic pencil drawing of the scene with a few notable differences. In my drawing the teacher was a broomstick and the students pigs.  The boy behind me leaned forward and laughed out loud when he saw it, causing the aforementioned Mrs. Ledford to turn around.  I quickly flipped to the middle section of my notebook where I had a half page of notes from the first 10 minutes of class.

"What exactly do you find so amusing about the Roman conquest of Britain Mr. Ross?"  She said in her usual monotone.

"I don't know, but the English are pretty funny." Ricky replied causing a brief wave of mirth in the classroom.

Sensing perhaps that extending the interrogation would get her no further and only waste time she had dedicated to wasting the time of her students she just turned back around and continued her lecture.  The students seeing the distraction over went back to ignoring her.  I felt Ricky lean closer and say,

"That was pretty good, how long have you been drawling?"

"Oh a little bit longer than 'it's none of your businesses and a little bit shorter than 'shut your trap.'" I replied with irritation.

"Yeesh sorry."

End Chapter One