Book 1: The Mirror of Ages
Written By: Sandra Meesala
Started: January 29, 2010
Chapter 1: Disturbance at Dawn and the Beast
Bang! Bang! A distant shout came from behind the bedroom door. "Callie, you sleep monkey! Wake up! We'll be late!"
Instead of getting up like I was supposed to, I decided to stay in bed. School can wait.
"Don't make me get Mom." threatened my horribly annoying brother, Mark.
"He wouldn't." I whispered to myself and dropped my head back into my soft white pillow. I tried to drift back into the amazing dream I was having only moments before this rude awakening.
I knew I had a choice to make; stay here and possibly get yelled at by Mom, or get up from my warm cocoon under the plush soft blankets on top of me. Before I could make my decision, I heard my mother's heavy footsteps coming up the old wooden steps, heading straight towards my bedroom door.
"Catherine Anne Pellegrino!" screamed my obviously angry and infuriating mother.
"He did not!" I whispered. "That sorry excuse for a brother!" I shook my head. Mark was going to pay.
"Get your lazy butt out of bed right now, young lady or …." By that time, I had already tuned her out. I didn't care to hear what else she threw my way.
I slowly got out of bed and went into my bathroom to wash up. I had to hurry before Mom blew her top and called Dad.
"Has the beast been awaken yet?" Mark called from behind the door. He said it with that snobby British accent he uses to insult people with.
I stopped the impossible task of getting my jeans on. He said the word: the name I dreaded most, "The Beast."
Others would have just let it pass, but I didn't. I was called that when I was a munchkin because I was forced to play the part of the beast in my elementary school musical, "The Beauty and the Beast." I did everything I could to get out of playing that part. I even attempted to jump off a flight of stairs. Despite my efforts, my family made me, thinking that it would be a nice way to get me "get involved."
I sucked as the part of the beast. I wasn't the greatest singer in the world and on the premiere night, I abruptly had a sore throat on stage. The voice that came out of my mouth sounded like a dying horse. People said that it suited the beast, but I knew that they were laughing inside. Since then, I've never set foot inside a theatre, besides the movies, and I hated the word "beast". Mark knew it and now he had to shell out. Big time.
I looked at my alarm clock. It read 7:10 and the school bus came exactly at 7:20. I only had about a three minute window to get back at my brother. I still had to eat breakfast and head to the bus stop by my house, so this had to be swift.
I quickly looked around me for a reasonable weapon while I wore my jacket. A book? No, that'll only give him a bump on the head. Scissors? Na, too gruesome. I didn't feel like stabbing him today. I had to make him hurt but not too much.
Clothes, books, and papers went flying during my search as the desire to hit Mark grew. I haven't cleaned my room in ages! I was lucky Mom didn't walk into my room when she attempted to wake me up earlier. She would have had a fit, then probably call Dad, who would ground me; and, while he was busy listing off my taken away privileges, Mom would be giving me the traditional "responsibility" lecture. I don't know which is worse, the lecture or being grounded.
I finally found the perfect punishing tool, my school bag, which was previously hidden under a pile of clean laundry. The backpack had two of my heaviest textbooks in it. If I put just enough momentum into it, I could really do some damage. If Mom managed to ask why my older brother was in pain, I could just say that I was rushing out of the room and accidently bumped into him.
"Yeah." I said. "That should work." I took a glimpse at the clock. 7:12. I had only one minute to spare.
With a big grin on my face, I threw open the door and found just the person I was hoping to see.
"Yes! Finally! Now let's go-?"
I swung the bag at him.
"So, you swung your school bag at your brother?" Sharon asked me while we were at our lockers.
Sharon Marshal has been my best friend since she moved from Ohio, two years ago. Since then, she has been the miracle that I have always been asking for.
Shortly after Sharon joined the grade, she was quickly liked throughout the student body for her pleasurable and outgoing personality. Greatest of all, when she became my friend, she stopped people from bugging me. I am not a big fan of cheerful people. However, most of the people in my school were so hyper and preppie, I swear that they were on crack or something when they walked through the school doors in the morning.
"Yeah!" I continued my tale. "I put the exact amount of arm and it hit him, like, right in the side! You should have seen him! He was like…" I mimicked my brother pained expressions. When I was done, I glanced up at Sharon and froze.
"What? He had it coming." I tried to reassure Sharon but that didn't stop her from continuing to give me the "disappointed" look. Not only was it making me feel guilty but was freaking me out a lot.
There were a large group of windows that ran along the wall in front of us. The bright morning sunshine was shining brightly into the hall but it made the front of Sharon look eerily dark. Sharon's long, dirty blonde hair made the shadows on her face look darker than the rest of her body. Plus, since she was about six inches taller than me, it seemed like she was looming over me. I cringed in the sight of her given that it appeared like she was going to kill me.
I wasn't the only one to be scared. A group of boys approached Sharon to greet her but quickly walked away when they saw the look on her face. I could guess what was going through their minds, "What the heck did Callie do to Sharon?" I sighed. If only they knew the whole story.
I understood their thoughts though. Sharon wasn't the type of person who would get flaming mad at someone without a reason to. She was the goodie- good type who never spoke badly about people. She always believed in the "good" in them, or that is how my parents put it.
"That was probably a bad idea, wasn't it?" I asked her, succumbing to her stare down and not wanting to upset her too much.
Content that she made her statement, she unfolded her arms from her chest. "You think?" she said.
We both mentally decided to let the subject end there. I closed my locker and we started heading towards our first period class. Even though we had dropped the topic, disapproval about my actions was still written all over Sharon's face. With each moment, it made me feel guiltier and guiltier. Nevertheless, I won't apologize for smacking Mark with my school bag. I chuckled in remembrance of the incident as we walked to history class together.
Chapter 2: The Roy Family Legend
Sharon and I both have the same history teacher, Mr. Bogerson. Regardless of his real name, we all, except Sharon, called him Mr. Bogus. I thought that this was a dumb name for a teacher, until the first two months of this school year. He'd always give pop quizzes and long tests every week. Plus, every two weeks, we had a random project that had nothing to do with what we were learning about in class.
This week, all of his six classes had to do a huge project about our family ancestors; even though we were studying about D- day. The students had to create a family tree, compose a family story, and bring in a family item. I brought in my grandmother's dress from around World War Two and Sharon brought in her great grandmother's locket.
My eyes came across familiar images on the walls as we entered the classroom. Mr. Bogerson's room had historical posters all along the walls and some were ones I have never seen before. Where he managed to get them, I have no idea. Do they have a poster convention or something? Other than that, it was a normal classroom. Even though it was normal, it was extremely boring; however, I won't go into that.
As Sharon and I both took our seats, I gazed around the room to see what my classmates brought in for their project items. I saw jewelry, shirts, portraits, letters, pictures, and hats. The weirdest thing I saw was a huge mirror. It was one of those mirrors that you could roll.
The mirror I saw was no ordinary one though. It had intricate borders that were painted with beautiful colors. I got up from my seat and walked over to the mirror in pure amazement. I have never seen one like it before. The borders depicted some sort of scene with different creatures and people who wore blue robes. The robed persons were gathered around in a circle. It looked like they were chanting or doing a Séance. "Strange." I whispered. On the top of the frame and to each side of it, there were indentations. The shapes looked familiar but the answer wouldn't come to me at that moment.
"Hey there cutie, you like it?" said a voice behind me. I spun around to see my classmate Jake Roy standing there with big his hands in his jean pockets. His long, wavy black hair was tied back in a pony tail and he was wearing his favorite purple track sweatshirt. Its bold white words said on the back, "If you can read this, then you are where you're supposed to be." For some odd reason, that was incredibly funny to me.
"Yes, I actually do. It's interesting but beautiful." I turned back to the reflection. "Why did you bring in a mirror?"
"Well, I couldn't find anything else about my family and I really need to ace this project. So might as well bring in this."
"What do you have in this class?" I unconsciously asked.
"Ohh, so close!"
Jake sighed. "I know! If I ace this, I'll be set for a B."
I arched an eyebrow. "Your mom made you bring in this. Didn't she?"
Jake hung his head in shame. "Yes. She told me to do it or die; or something along those lines."
I changed the subject. "Did your family make this?"
Jake stepped closer to the mirror like a salesman trying to catch an interested customer. "Actually, I have no idea. There are stories about how my family came upon it but other than that, I don't have any factual evidence."
Jake was already creeping me out with the moves. I took a quick peek at the clock upon the wall. We had about 15 minutes before the bell rang. I couldn't sit next to Sharon because she was still mad at me for this morning. Her glare had already scared my mind at the locker bank and I wasn't about to let my mind get scarred again. "Oh. Okay then, what is one of the stories?" I figured his tale should at least allow me to stall for a bit.
"Long story short, way back when, one of my ancestors on my dad's side was fishing on the Irish coast. It started to rain and he ran for cover. He found an isolated cavern. It was raining heavily and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon, so he decided to look around. Soon after that," Jake placed his hand on the frame. "he found this in the rock wall."
"Wait a second. That man found this" I tapped on the mirror. "in the wall?"
"Well, no. Not the whole thing. Let me actually finish, will you?" He took his hand off the mirror. "He found the reflective part. Strange, but true. His wife's birthday was up coming soon, so he came back to the cavern, two days later, to chisel it out. While he was in the process of that, he slipped and fell into the mirror."
"He fell into the mirror?" I looked at him, confused. How do you fall into a mirror? Is that even possible?"
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I wasn't very good with bizarre explanations but I still didn't want to go back to Sharon. That means I had no choice but to bear with it. My family could never understand why I hated weird stories. All I knew is that when I heard one, what happened in the story suddenly happened to me too or they gave me nightmares.
"They say that he went to different worlds and met this group called The Keeper's Guild." Jake continued. "They apparently watch these worlds and "keep the peace". Get it? Keep the peace?" he started cracking up but I didn't find it funny.
"Okay? Go on. How did he get back?" The request came out insistent.
"Whoa! Someone's interested! I didn't think you'd be the one to like these kinds of stories, Callie."
I punched his arm but it didn't affect him what so ever because his arm was thick with muscles. I secretly regretted hitting him as my hand slightly throbbed. "Shut up and answer my question, Jake." I said, rubbing my hand. Jake took one look at my hand and laughed.
I growled in response.
"Fine! Fine! Take a chill pill! The Keepers sent him back. Before that, they made him promise not to tell anyone. Because he was a man of his word, he didn't. He just finished the job and made this mirror. The art work was done later after it was placed into a wooden frame.
"See? Check it out!" Jake turned the rolling mirror around and I felt the back. It was defiantly wood.
On the upper right hand corner, there was a wide crack. The mirror was about six feet tall so I had to stand on my toes just to touch it. It felt like a rock that was in a cold, damp spot for a long time.
"Wait a minute…"
"Now what Callie? I actually finished this time!"
I ignored his statement and continued. "If he wasn't supposed to tell anyone, how did your family find out about the journey your relative took in the…mirror?"
"Good question. He had a journal and wrote about his travels in there. That diary was found and read. Ironically, people still found out the mirror through his writings so, he didn't end up breaking his promise." Jake finished. There was a big grin on his small face. He was somehow proud of his story.
"That's cool. You're so lucky!" I told Jake."At least you have something that is somewhat cool to say about your family history. I still have to make some crap up." A moment later we both started laughing. I suck at making stuff up on the spot, especially if I didn't prepare for it, which I didn't.
After the joke faded off, I glanced again at the clock. I had four minutes to kill. We both stared at the mirror, unsure of what else to say. Then, a thought arose. "Do you believe the story?" I asked Jake.
I sort of enjoyed his story about the Roy Family Mirror. It was both mysterious and weird at the same time. As was mentioned before, I wasn't a fan of fiction, but there was something about this story that was appealing. Something in me wanted to believe it.
"Well…" he started but the bell cut him off. "I'll get back to you on that!" he said as he rushed to his seat and I rushed to mine.