The Travellers' Story: Part II | Teen Ink

The Travellers' Story: Part II

October 21, 2011
By evie428 BRONZE, Ontario, Other
evie428 BRONZE, Ontario, Other
4 articles 1 photo 88 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Writing a novel is not merely going on a shopping expedition across the border to an unreal land: it is hours and years spent in the factories, the streets, the cathedrals of the imagination."

The old musty hallway echoes our footprints eerily, pausing it’s game of copy-cat only when we stop to step over the occasional broken desk, or to brush a cob web out of our faces. It’s a creepy place, and eventually I begin to feel lost in the maze of hallways, but apparently Jake knows where he’s going. He pauses in front of a door, the sign, now old and rusted, saying ‘Office’. He closes his eyes, as if trying to remember something, and then opens the door.

Papers and leaves litter the grimy old tile, an I look around to see ivy creeping up the brick walls. No one is here.
“What’s going on?” I finally have the nerves to whisper, looking up at Jake. His mouth begins to open, but then his head snaps up, and mine follows.
Four people are suddenly standing in the far corner of the room. Two boys and two girls; they look identical, like two sets of twins. Icy blond hair covered their heads thickly, the girls’ long and curly and the boys short and messy, accompanied by raven black eyes. They look around eighteen, wearing jeans and sneakers, t-shirts and sweaters. Nothing unusual, nothing magical, a vacant, doll-like expression on their faces.
“Who do you have here, Jakey?” one of the girls said softly, sauntering over to where I am standing. Her pale pink lips set in a thin smile, and my heart beat begins to quicken. “I thought we said no one else, but you.” Her voice is soft and velvety, but I can detect the threatening edge in her tone. The panic begins to rise inside of me. She grabs my trembling hand so quickly that I jump. Jake’s torso goes rigid.
“Do not tell me that she wants this curse also?” The girl says, jerking my hand with every syllable. I wince, and hope that Jake can read my mind.
“She does, Twyledon.” Jake replied.
The girl smiled. “And you?” she says to Jake, dropping my hand forcefully. “You cannot last much longer if you continue on like this. This girl is your choice, now you must make your decision.”
Jake looks at me, and I look at him. He reads my face like a book, and then knows my answer.
“We will.”

Twyledon smiles again, her cold, signature grin, revealing perfect rows of bleach white teeth. She snaps her fingers, and the two boys step forward. They grab me roughly and shove me down into a decaying wooden chair. I can feel it shift under my weight. I hope it doesn’t break. Meanwhile fear is beginning to cause my heart to beat out of sync. What are they doing to me?
“I’ll be here Lena,” says Jake softly, looking into my face. I can tell he’s terrified. “I promise you you’ll be alright.” And with that he leaves the room.

My eyes immediately avert to Twyledon. She stares at me strangely, then kneels down, and puts her icy hands on my temples. My head is immediately ablaze, her hands, once so cold now searing me into nothing. I can scarcely feel myself struggling, and the next thing I know is the blessed gift of darkness.
I awake to find myself on the floor, alone, in the office. I sit up slowly, the pain in my head still echoing. I feel different, cold, agile, full of energy. Free.

The door opens, and in walks Jake. I scramble up and run, and squeeze him hard. He hugs back and I look into his eyes. They are no longer dull, but instead are glistening, reflecting hints of metallic blue. I smile, and he smiles back.
“Hey,” said Jake. “I want to show you something.”
As if by instinct I hold onto him, tight. The energy begins to surge, creating a cocoon of electricity around us. I can feel my senses being invaded by the lethargic feeling of travelling. We close our eyes, and when we open them, we are laying on the skylight, the skylight above my hallway. I look at Jake, and my eyes widen. He knows what I’m thinking. I hear a voice, and look down into my hallway. I watch, in pure elation, as the aged wooden door swings open, hitting the stone wall behind it with a thunderous crack . . .

The author's comments:
This is a short story I started a long while back, part two being the final installment.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.