Rain poured down the sides of my house as my alarm blared at five in the morning. Turning over in my half-awake state, I slammed my palm down on the 'off' button and laid on my back. I groaned and reluctantly rose from my futon, shivering slightly. Quickly I divested and threw on shorts and a tanktop, going to the bathroom connected to my room to splash cold water on my face. Once I felt more awake, I grabbed my iPod and thrust the earbuds into my ears, turning the song to my exercise playlist. The sounds of Lady Gaga filled my ears as I walked down the hallway and into the room with the treadmill. I flipped the light on and put my iPod in my arm strap and began my routine.
Five minutes of warm-up stretches, twenty minutes of toning with weights, thirty minutes on the treadmill, five minutes of cooldown stretches.
An hour later when it was all finished, I took my earbuds out of my ears and pushed my sweaty bangs out of my eyes. I turned the light off in the exercise room and walked back to my bedroom. My father stopped me on the way.
"Morning Piper," he said, adjusting his tie. "Your Mom got some Captain Crunch for you. She said you'd freak out if you didn't have it." He grinned.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Yeah, I don't know if 'freak out' is the phrase I would use."
He smiled and patted my shoulder as he continued on down the hall and down the stairs. I made it back to my bedroom and shut the door, throwing my iPod on my bed and getting out of my sweaty clothes. When I got to the bathroom it was already warm from my younger sister, Dylan taking a shower before me. From her room I could hear the faint sound of My Chemical Romance. I could also hear her singing along to the words and it made me smile. My sister was probably one of the best singers I'd ever her and hearing her use her beautiful soprano voice to sing along with punk-rock was amusing.
I finished my shower, dried my hair, and returned to room to pick out my outfit. I didn't know why, but picking out my clothes was always kind of spiritual in a way for me. My clothes defined me. They were my way of expressing myself, because really, I didn't have much to be proud of. Sure, I was a good student and I had been on the basketball and softball teams since I was a little kid. Something about all that just didn't seem like enough for me. I wanted with all my heart to find something more in myself. Currently all I had though, was my unique sense of style.
Grabbing a white shirt, a pair of dark skinny jeans, and my well loved moccasins, I put them all on. I went to my jewelry box and carefully selected some huge peacock-colored feather earrings. I observed myself in the mirror. My skin was pale with a pink flush and my hair was a brilliant flaming red. What was more striking than even my toned and sexy structure, were my eyes. They were bright violet, an eye color I had never seen on anyone other than my little sister.
Just as I was tying a blue scarf around my neck, Dylan burst into my room, her brown curls bouncing as she walked. "Hey, Pipe," she whistled, cocking her head to the side. "You look tired today," she commented. My sister knew my mood swings well. We were two years apart, yet we were very in-tune with each other's emotions.
I shook my head and grabbed my bag from beside my bed. "M'fine," I yawned. "Not enough sleep."
Dylan nodded with a perky grin. "I've had those days," she said, grabbing me by the elbow and pulling me out the door. I groaned, but followed her down the hall. Before we made it to the staircase, a loud noise from the ground level rang in our ears. My sister and I stopped cold and listened as we heard our mother scream. Dylan immediately took off down the stairs, with me following after her.
"You'll never get to it!" Mom spat.
"Dylan!" I shouted. Another bang sounded, silencing our mother. I was sure now that the sound had been a gunshot. I had reached my sister who was standing in the kitchen entryway, a scream frozen on her face. At her feet lay our mother, a bleeding hole gaping out of her right temple. Her head was laying in a pool of blood and her face was contorted in horror. On the other side of the kitchen there was an elegant woman and a broad-shouldered man, both dressed in expensive suits and holding guns. They were standing over our father, who had a bullet lodged in his throat, blood staining his clothes and face.
The woman looked up at us with a beautiful smile and a malicious glint in her eyes. Her platinum blonde hair was in a perfect updo and highlighted her razor sharp cheekbones. She was the most beautiful and the most frightening woman I'd ever seen in my life. Planting her hand on her hip, she aimed her pistol at Dylan's forehead. From the bullets on my parents, I knew she would hit her straight between her eyes if she pulled the trigger. "Nigel," she purred to her companion, "it would appear as though we have some more guests." She gave a silky laugh. "Do come in girls! We're not going to hurt you!" Another laugh escaped her red lips.
I pulled on my sister's arm, ready to yank her out of the room and run. I wasn't about to let her get killed the way our parents had just been. Dylan didn't seem to notice me though. Her gaze was boring into the woman opposite us, holding the gun.
"Well, suit yourselves," she said, moving around to lean against the kitchen counter. Her feet were clad in a pair of pointy black stilettos that only added to her creepy factor. "I'm Giselle, an old... friend of your parents." The man she had called Nigel relaxed his muscles slightly. His steely gaze was watching me. When our eyes met, I felt my blood turn to ice. I wanted to bolt out of the room with my sister and run to our car, but my feet wouldn't move. Giselle continued. "Now, girls. Be dears and tell us what we need to know and we'll let you live."
"Countess," Nigel whispered. "We need to go. There's no telling when they'll get here," he said urgently. "We'll take these two with us," he added, inclining his head towards Dylan and I.
Countess?
Neither my sister nor I had said anything yet. The shock over standing in front of our parents' dead bodies was still fresh in our bodies.
Giselle simply waved her hand dismissively in his direction. "Dylan, right?" she asked, using her gun to point at my little sister. My sister stood frozen, her eyes still glaring at the woman. "You look like you'll tell us something." She came towards us, away from the counter. Her long, freshly manicured hand fingered my sister's hair, seeming to pet it. Bringing her face down to Dylan's ear, she whispered, "Where are they hiding the amulet?" Her voice wasn't sweet anymore. It had taken a turn for deadly.
Dylan tensed. "Amulet? What amulet?" Her eyes flicked over to the woman whose gun was now pointed at her temple.
I finally found my voice. "Please," I begged. "Don't hurt my sister! We don't have any idea what you're talking about!" My voice sounded high-pitched and squeaky.
Coldly, Giselle laughed. "Well, then you're no use to me, are you?" She planted the head of the gun on my temple now and smiled the most wicked smile I'd ever seen.
A strange and faint buzzing started and Nigel hollered, "Countess, get down!" Suddenly, I was thrown backwards into a table, my head smashing into the wall. The air was cloudy now and I couldn't see anything, save for a few shapes that I thought might be people. All around me I heard gunshots, before everything was quiet again.
"Dylan!" I screamed. Nothing. I opened my mouth to call out again, but a gloved hand clamped over my mouth and pulled me up. My attacker could hardly hold onto me because I slammed my palm into their nose.
"Jesus!" he yelled.
Frantically, I ran through the haze, grabbing at the air hoping that I would grab Dylan. "Dylan!" I hollered even louder. Still my little sister didn't respond. I now had tears rolling down my cheeks. "Dylan, where are you?" Another pair of arms grabbed me and this time I couldn't escape. Their grip was like steel holding me down. "Let me go!" I screamed.
"We're not here to hurt you, Piper," the voice said. Her voice was firm, yet not unkind. "We're here to protect you. Your sister is safe. She's outside."
"Prove it!" I demanded as we started to walk forward. "Give me a reason to believe you. You just blew a hole in the side of my house and some guy just grabbed me from behind. How do I know that you're not with that crazy bitch and her henchman?"
"Keep walking and I'll show you," she said. We made it to the outside within a matter of seconds. My vision had returned and I could see the whole side of my house that had been blon to pieces. The rain was nothing more than a drizzle now and we padded out to the edge of the woods where there were two vans. One was open from the back and there were several computer monitors and communication devices all set up and running. Two men were sitting inside them, speaking quietly into headsets. Another woman was coming out of the darkness of the woods, a gun in her hands. Sitting on the edge of the opening was my sister, her eyes wide and her face pale. "See?" the woman said. "She's fine."
I raced out of her hold and threw my arms around my sister. Her arms wrapped around me and held me tightly. When I pulled away, my sister was crying. "Who were those people?" she cried, her head bent as she wept. "Why did they kill Mom and Dad?"
"They wanted something from them," the woman who had fished me out the house said from behind us. I finally turned around to look at her and see what she looked like. She was tall with mocha colored skin, her hair was pitch black, and she was built like an actress. Her eyes were like my sister's and mine: violet. "The people who were here were the Countess Giselle Dashwood and her bodyguard, Nigel. The Countess is an international thief and what she wants is the Amulet of Nefertiti."
Shaking her head, Dylan said, "Who are you? And what do our parents have to do with this amulet?"
"My name is Nalia and, technically, I am your godmother," she said. "Your parents were very dear friends of mine and they were also the protectors of the Amulet. The Countess wants it so that she can use the magic in it to destroy us, the Guardians of the Ancient Magic. With us out of the way, she'll have full control of whatever power she wants."
Both Dylan and I gaped at her. Was she being serious? Had our parents just been murdered by a bunch of lunatics who thought that magic actually exsisted? "You've got to be joking," I said. "You want us to believe this?"
Nalia didn't move. She simply stood there. However, in my head, her voice spoke. Yes. I want you to believe this. I shook my head, thinking I had imagined it all. But her voice was there again. You're not imagining this Piper, she continued. This is real, whether you believe it or not. Staring at her in amazement, I watched as she walked closer to us. She cupped her hands and closed her eyes a moment. When she opened them, a glowing ball of fire was in her palm.
"Oh my God," Dylan whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. I sat next to her in equal astonishment. She looked up at Nalia. "Do we have powers like this?" she asked timidly. "Can we- can we do that?"
She nodded. "You have never been trained, but yes. You both have the ability to do magic." Quickly, she closed her palm around the flame, extinguishing it. "We cannot stay here," she said, motioning for us to get up.
"Where do you propose we go?" I asked. "We can't just leave our parents here!" I followed after her as she headed back into the ruined kitchen.
Nalia stopped and turned to put a hand on my shoulder. "Piper, I know you want to give them the proper burial. There isn't any time though. The Countess will be sending people back here to search more for the amulet. We need to get you and your sister out of here." She continued down the hallway.
"Well, do you have any idea where this amulet is?" I asked, my head spinning. I had just seen my parents' dead bodies, I had been in a building that got blown up, and I just saw a woman perform magic. My stomach was churning and my knees felt weak.
Nalia didn't look at me as she made her way up the stairs. "Yes," she said. "And its not here. Your parents couldn't risk bringing it here, so they hid it somewhere else. Somewhere they knew it wouldn't be found. Somewhere safe." As she said that, she stopped in front of our replica painting of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' and removed it from the wall. Behind the painting was a safe that I didn't even know we had.
"What's in there?" I asked, curiously.
"In case this ever happened, your parents wanted you and Dylan prepared. There are papers and passports with new names, there is money, there is a handgun in each," Nalia explained. Hurriedly she punched several numbers into the pad and the safe clicked open. Inside of the safe were two duffle bags with Dylan's name on one and mine on the other. She grabbed the blue bag with my name on it and gave it to me. "Take this," she ordered, motioning me to follow her downstairs again.
Glancing down at the weighty bag, I sighed. I was still hoping that this was a bad dream and that I would wake up at any second. When I had gotten outside again, Dylan and I were huddled into one of the vans. Both of us looked forlornly out the window at our house and where our parents were somewhere under the debri. I wiped some tears away and hugged Dylan. She had her head buried against my shoulder and was shaking with sobs. Nalia spoke quietly into a walkie-talkie and clicked it shut when she was done.
"What did you tell them to do?" Dylan asked as the van started to drive out onto the driveway.
"I told them to burn the house down," she answered grimly.
"Good," I said. Nalia looked at me as if she were surprised that I had said it. "If that bitch sends anyone back, they won't be able to find anything." My voice shook as I said it. Turning to look Nalia in the eye, I added, "I want you teach me everything. I want to know how to use the magic and I want to know how to find the Countess."
Nalia rose an eyebrow. "And what do you plan on doing with what I teach you?"
"We're going to kill both of them," Dylan growled beside me. "We're going to protect what our parents died protecting."
I nodded in agreement. "Yes," I said. "Yes, we are." My sister and I were going to avenge our parents' deaths. Before now, I had nothing to be proud of. Now, I was going to get revenge for my parents. When I avenged them, I would continue their work. Their legacy will live on in me.
That was something I could live with.
Sporks here as promised. I'm going to go through your whole piece as I review.
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