*Beastly

Jake (#4)

I'm not nearly as good of a writer as the others but I was told by Ty to write my story. Hopefully I remember everything correctly.

After seeing a giant pumpkin nearly crush one of my best friends, in front of our house, dad was not willing to let me out. At first Dad would let me out if I was well armed but mom disapproved of an eighteen-year-old packing heat. It didn't matter that I was a better shot than most of dad's gun buddies. I didn't mind mom's intervention. Carrying a handgun around was not something I wanted to do. I didn't like violence, ironic for being the son of a weapons addict.

It was nearly two weeks after Brad's encounter. Since it was Saturday I was able to be out of the house and with the guys. As we headed to the skate park, Tyson explained his encounter in the forest. It was odd to see Tyson looking to Brad for confirmation. In the past, Tyson only came to hang out because his best friend Steve was in our group.

At the skate park I sat on a hill sketching since I had a rotten sense of balance. While some were rocking the half-pipe a couple of the other guys pulled out a Frisbee to play. I was invited but turned them down. My athleticism was limited to walking to and from school. Running was out of the question and trying to catch while running was completely impossible.

A shadow across my paper caused me to look up. It was a skater looking at the drawing I'd done. After a few minutes, he wandered off. I watched him go and caught sight of something sticking out of the grass. Carefully setting down the paper and shifting to grab the object. As my fingers clasped the pencil, a shock went up my arm and my vision blurred.

It took a moment for me to get my bearings. The room was dark and there was a musty smell. Something shifted next to me a blanket was gently laid over me. Someone grumbled and moved away. I think I feel back asleep. When I woke again I opened my eyes.

The room wasn't dark. There was a large window and a cluttered desk. The bed I was on wasn't large and had a bedspread with large hibiscus flowers. I tried to sit up but could only move my head from side to side. The door to the bedroom opened and I stared as Samantha came in. She frowned and I mentally squirmed under the piercing gaze. Grumbling about her bed being taken, she moved to a chair and sat with her legs pulled up.

Neither of us talked but just examined each other. The light through the window cast a shadow across part of her face and I wished fervently for my sketch pad. I had always wanted to talk to Samantha but now that we were alone in a room together there was nothing I had to say. She was the person I always watched, hoping to learn more about her.

There was a tone somewhere else in the house and Samantha left briefly, coming back into the room with Ty. They were at each other's throats as usual and I turned my head away at the names they called each other. I knew that Samantha had rescued Ty from his dungeon and that Ty was bitter about it. He had no respect for her. Since Ty was the unofficial leader of our group, everyone followed his lead. When he ridiculed Samantha everyone agreed.

They argued for a while about what to do with me. Ty accused her of being behind all of the magical disturbances. Samantha insisted that it had been luck she'd found him and that I'd appeared on her bed. Their voices got louder and with as much energy I could muster I whistled. It was shrill and piercing, something I'd learned for sports games. Ty made one last futile attempt to accuse Samantha as he moved to help me.

I guess I snapped. After watching Samantha in school for years I became rash. I berated Ty for being stupid and told him to leave Samantha alone. I argued with him for a while and he finally dragged me out of bed and out of the room. I still couldn't walk and he dropped me in the hall. As I lay there, Samantha stood in the door, arms crossed. Her face was burned into my mind as I was taken home and put in bed.

It took three days for me to get any motor skills back and it was nearly a week before I was back in school. The first day back I ate lunch with the group. When Samantha walked by there were some of the usual remarks. She passed behind me and I grabbed her hand, pulling her down to sit next to me. I still had a difficult time speaking and my movements were shaky, making it very difficult to draw. Ignoring everyone else, I did what I'd wanted to for years: we're going on a date.

Ironically as soon as I asked, the strange side effects disappeared the rest of the way.