Author's note: This is one of my first novels I have written. I really enjoyed writing it and am looking forward... Show full author's note »
SamThe birthmark on my right wrist tingles. Michelle had a birthmark just like mine too on her right wrist.
“See this birthmark, Sam?” she says, “I have it too. Do you know what that means?”
“What?” I ask.
“It means that we are special.”
I never understood what she meant by special, but I had always liked the sound of it. And of course, I wrote about it.
I, too, am special,
Though the world looks down on me,
I will show them,
Just wait, one day they will see
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Better.” I lie, but really every movement I make kills me.
“My name is David,” the stranger says, “I was really good friends with your sister. I do not know if she ever mentioned me, but Hope Randall, Michelle and I were always hanging out. But every time I hung out with her, every time she would enter the classroom, I got this feeling. I did not know what it meant, but it gave me goose bumps. Now I realize that I had predicted her murder.”
“How did you know I was her brother?”
“The entire school knows about it. News spreads dangerously fast, Sam, and they all know who you are. When I saw you, I just knew that you were different. And I just had to ask you. Because maybe,” he pauses.
“Maybe what?” I ask.
“I am hoping we can figure out who murdered her. Because the eerie feelings just will not go away. Sometimes I wonder if that eerie feeling means something.”
“You mean, you think whoever murdered my sister is still around?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. But this feeling, it is the same feeling I got when I was with Michelle. I can’t just ignore it. Maybe someone else is in danger.”
My wrist tingles once more, this time more urgent, and my attention wanders to two birds sitting in a tree.
The baby bird sits on the edge of a branch, ready to leap into the air. The bird in the nest, which looks kind of like a raven, calls out to the baby, but the baby does return to its mother. Instead, it jumps, but is not ready to fly. Instead it falls down to the merciless ground below.
I blink and the two birds disappear from my vision, and I am staring blankly at a barren branch.
“What are you looking at?” David asks.
“Nothing.” I reply.
My typical response to an event like this. I had stopped getting freaked out by it a long time ago.
“Are you sure?” David asks.
“Listen,” I say, “If I do not go back home soon I am sure that my parents will go paranoid. They have already lost one child who did not…”
I couldn’t finish my sentence. David looks like he is about to cry, too.
As I walk home, I swear I can hear the baby bird. It is still there, for now at least, and it gives me hope.