Document: Invite

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The Boy from the Bush

1. The boy in the bush

The Celts evoke a mysterious universe in which the druids' secret language, the struggles between mythical animals and the fatality of love are spoken.

I'm looking for a second of the crucifix in the first paragraph of the book, trying hard to find a reason why I keep touching the rest of the books in the library, but unfortunately - or fortunately - I can not find any, so I close the book and I put it next to the rest.

I'm distracted by the enticing smell of the breakfast that goes under the door, so my next destination before I leave the house is in the kitchen.

"I made an omelet," says Mother.

I fry at the omelet plate on the table as if it were disintegrating, turning into a bowl of milk and cereal. I sit at the table, but I refuse to touch the breakfast prepared by my mother, so I push him to the center of the table.

I feel the mother's gaze turning away from my gestures, but I do not give it too much importance as long as I am too preoccupied to sigh theatre, leaning my head in the flame.

- Ardeth ...

I look at her with the tail of the eye, waiting to voice the thoughts that crush her.

He ignored the fact that my mother intended to say something, and I get up from the table and put the jam in the fridge to take the milk.

I'm the most criminal daughter in the history of humanity, and I admit that. The behavior I have against my mother leaves it desirable, but I can not control my states. I take it for the fact that it took him 16 years to tell me about the tears of Unicorn. I should not be so harsh with the woman who raised me, but some things had to be dug up years ago. For example, the mystery of dad's disappearance, I had the right to know this. Although his face is erased and barely able to remember the sound of his voice, the fact that he was here at some point makes me ask the same question every morning.

Nothing is easy. Even breathing requires effort, let the grown up of a child more lunatic than the moon.

I am sure that these words follow a whole argument, and if I were not already late, I would only be eyes and ears.

- Time out, Mom! I gesticulate with my hands. Late. We talk after I'm back.

I'm trying to do it well, but you're such a tricky kid, sit in the next seat, broken, as if each gesture was extra. I had my reasons why I did not tell you about all this.
Mom, it's okay, I just wanted to eat some Hippogrif milk corn flakes, that's all.
It has not been easy, her voice is heard again.

I wiped my wrist with my finger, showing her time does not give her the right to talk. I open the box of milk and take a good mouth before I put it back in the refrigerator. Surround the table to take my schoolbag from the back of the chair, and after kissing my mother on the cheek, I run out of the house almost running, only after I'm far away, my running turns into a lazy walk.

I know it was not easy for me to be a family, because there is only one person, and I did not help her at all. My dad kept me afloat from the start, and it made it hard for me to get used to the fact that she was just my mother. I admit that it was strange to talk to my father about sex, but my mother is far too paranoid and cuddly when it comes to real life. I'm grateful that she did not let me grow up with wolves, because frankly, I was not a good kid, I'm not a good teenager, and I'm definitely not the adult my mother hopes to mold.

Those extra seconds alongside my father made the difference, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who grew up with only one parent and a deaf grandmother - who sometimes sleeps as if preparing for the funeral - but with all these, my heart longs for something I once had.

- Run! I hear a snarl coming out of somewhere.

The whispers persist as I move. My heart is chaotic and the legs refuse to move faster. I'm afraid the only thing I can think of at the moment is whether living one damn nightmares.

Maybe I can go a little faster, but not enough to scatter that voice, and I wonder if the voice is not just in my head. But it's not, because I stop for a second to draw my soul and feel someone's eyes on me. I speak in the direction I came from and I have the impression that my eyesight is playing me. A thundering goat is getting closer to me.

The voice that until now was just a whisper turns into a roar, and in the next moment I wake up running after a boy who came out of the bush. It's obvious that this day started with the left.I'm scared, or better, orypilated by all this situation, which seems to be one of my happy nightmares, because for a moment I really feel like I've escaped.

We're still running when we're a few meters away from the bus stop. It rotates my face toward me, giving me the chance to study every trait. Now I can see how tall it is and I have to put my head back so I can look at it. A few brunette strands are stuck to her forehead because of the unexpected revival we both had to do. Eyes whose nuances can not assimilate her with any color, I'm studying with intense intensity, and finally the corner of her lips arches in a smile.

I am stunned in front of her and barely able to address one of the thousands of questions that my mind is going through at this moment.

- Who ...?

It's almost a question. My lungs refuse to let the oxygen come in and I feel choked if I get a single word. But I hope he understood the crunch of the question I asked.

- Amethyst. You will receive the rest of the answers along the way. Right now that's all you need to know about me.

My hormones started to go crazy. I've started to make a mess. I have the impression that I need to

consult with a psychiatrist, because that does not work anymore.

I manage to unleash my senses and find that the bus is about to leave without me. I would not mind not going to school today, but my mom would not be delighted to learn that although I went to school, I never arrived.

I politely greet the driver after I almost ran to pass in time among the doors that were about to close. I'm only now aware that the boy in the bush followed me, and now he sits next to me.

"If I had not, you were just a memory now, Ardeth. Here is his answer.

My mind is in the fog. First tears of Unicorn, then a thundering goat and now this illegally beautiful boy whose name they suspect is Amethyst. I have the impression I'm in the hidden room.

Suspicion does not answer any of my questions now. Instead, more and more are gathering. Where does my name know when I do not even remember presenting myself?

I'm still studying my face once more, hoping to be able to assimilate it with some memory, even though I know in my depth that it's an unknown one. Very well informed.

It is possible to study at the same high school and have seen me by chance, but that still does not explain that she came out of a bush and saved me from the ravens of a rabid invaded goat - or what it was.

His eyes are fixed, his hands crossed. I try to understand if I'm that easy to read or simply read my thoughts.

Something urges me to want to get to the next station, but damn it! the next station is in front of the high school.

I do not think I like all this mystery about him. I try not to be as amazed as I am, but I do not think it's coming out because his smile has turned into a laugh under the mustaches, which I'm not really excited about.

Are you following me? I look at him with the tail of the eye and give a voice to one of the many curiosities I have.
What do you want to say?
You'll find out, Ardeth.
I know what you're thinking, Ardeth.
I would opt for the second variant, her voice be heard again.
I told you to find out more along the way, smile again.

- You'll have to get used to it, because you'll have me around for a while.

I do not like the fact that he answers me without even talking. Besides, I'll have to be more careful about what I'm thinking, otherwise I'll have to lock myself in the room until the funeral.

As the door of the bus opens, I run out of the door in the hope that this strange one will lose my trail and leave me alone. I sneak through the sea of students, trying to get into high school without jumping into someone's eye, but I think I've chosen my wrong day to wear shimmering colors.

I plan to take my manual for the first course in the closet, and then take refuge in the bathroom, where the dangers can not deviate from me.

- As much as you try to get rid of me, it will be impossible for you, fox. At the sound of his voice I slam his forehead at the closet door.

I'm not surprised that she cried out just how she did it, because my red hair is not that they come from an Irish family of vulpes.

Why do I know that?

Now I have a trace of regret with the impression that Amethyst is sexy. Not that it would not, but the oddity has it in a much larger dose.

I get the math handbook on her chest, watching him scramble throughthe closet closest to mine, of which I do not remember having had a possessor so far. It's impossible to have emerged out of the blue in the last few weeks of school, just before the freshman's ball.

She seems older than me, so the concern that we could share the same courses does not make me so hard.

I'm going to stop thinking, for fear she might hear me. I should probably take a sleepwalker that would make me sleep constantly, otherwise I do not see how I can stop my thoughts from fading through my brain.

"Ardeth, he calls out my name very seriously, then turns in my direction and makes a step forward. "I," answered my eyes.

He offers me one of the two cards he holds with his arm. When he notices that I'm not going to take it, he puts it over the math manual.

It's the third year.
Do you recognize that?
Did your mother hire you like a nurse? I look closely at the same book I have in the library.
Just read it. We're talking at lunch, okay? laughs briefly, then kisses my cheek as if I had grown together.

No, it's not good, I say, refraining from screaming.

Amethyst disappears like a donkey in the fog, and for half a day I really feel that my life has returned to normal. The first three hours went relatively well, except that I got one hour detention after school because I heard Amethyst and read the damn book instead of being attentive to math.

Now I'm in the cafeteria, enjoying my lunch on my own. Typically, the other empty seats at the dining room's outskirts are occupied by my laughter and Katniss, my best friend, who today did not honor me for attendance due to a family death. Zyro died, that Dalmatian fuck. I did not have such a close relationship with the pot, but Katniss loved him unimaginably for a long time.

Well, that's life.

He touched the voice of Amethyst's voice, placing his food tray on the opposite side of the table. I was hoping I would not see him again.

I do not know how directly I should confess that I have nothing to talk to with a person I have just met. My mother taught me not to talk to strangers, and that's what I'm gonna do.

"And if I told you your mom asked me to talk?"

I'm deeply inspired, trying to calm the swampy waters inside me, otherwise I'm sure I'll blow away.

- I need some explanation, I'm exhaling the words with the air.

"And you'll get them if you continue to read those books you refuse to touch, and if you will not be so stubborn, because you need me, fox!

I can swear I saw flames in his eyes. When his breath is no longer noticeably accelerated, the sea extinguishes the fire from them through his eyes.

I'm scared at this point and probably fell in love with his eyes, whose color they can not identify yet, because they change from one moment to the next.

- Okay, I'm listening, I'm captaining, because it's the only thing she has to offer me.

Push the tray at a considerable distance, given the sudden disappearance of my appetite. I cross my arms to my chest, trying to impose authority, but it still makes its voice, which probably means it will say what it means to say whether I want to listen to it or not.

You were not lazy at all!
I have to admit it, she has a pretty exciting fiction. He's been disturbed by my sincerity.
First, it's not fiction, and secondly, we have to talk.

- The book you are lecturing is just the basis of everything you need to know about what you really are.

I open my mouth to say something, but when my eyes meet my own, it erases any contradictory thought I would have been about to say.

- I would not have come to give you life if you were not hunting, Ardeth. I'm your protector, son of goddess Annea Clivana.

I am joining my lips in a straight line, refraining from laughing. No wonder her son was given the name of a semiprecious rock.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not beautiful at all," she said, throwing a smile of smile.

That sounded like that. Except for the 6 horns and red eyes like car stops.

I'm sick of his aberrations, so I get up from the table and I'm about to head to a place without such stupidity.

Like the luck of being saved by the bell, which I never hoped to say. I do not care about the stormy eyes that look at me away. I'm lying over my shoulder to see his anger in his eyes, but he's not there anymore. It evaporated as a chocolate pudding. I shrug the shoulders and see my life as I have done so far.

I would lie if I said I did not think about what he said to me throughout the remaining hours, but I'm still not convinced that the guy is not crazy. I can not wait for the time of detention to end and go home where I hope to give myself a little bit of normality.

– Open your books and browse them until your stuff comes into your head. Kids!

–

The history professor keeps staring at me since I'm in, and her psychopathic look does not make me feel better. Nevertheless, I draw the history book from the backpack and throw it on the bench, bringing to my attention the eyes of all those present in the detention room. Not that I care, because all those here are woe to their mother, without any influence on me.

I open the book at random and start reading from the top of the page. All the letters scattered on the paper gathered in the middle of the page forming a single word.

I'm sorry, I'm joining my hands under the table as a listening child, ready to address some of my questions. Why are they hunting more specifically? I'm sure you're the only boy who is roaming around me.
Very funny, his smile seems more of a grimace. You are hunted by evil forces. This includes the animal that you consider a fallen goat.
That goat was a Púka. A creature îdark, shifting shape and casting off their victims by sending them to the depths of the wilderness most likely to die.
You're crazy!

RUN!

What should this mean? I can not just lift myself and go. Where's my respect for the teacher? Professor who is disturbingly close to me. A green patch, filled with a disgusting smell of mortality,

comes out of his mouth. Her smile reveals sharp teeth, and her face begins to resemble that of a demon.

There is no trace in the room, they all disappeared like ketchup stains in my t-shirts.

Mrs. Shee stretches her knotted hands to my throat, but Amethyst sells me a little while as he pulls through the back of that shit, the tip of a sword that makes her sprawl on the floor in what appears to be ash.

- Who's crazy now?

His satisfied smile made me jump in his arms. I'm so scared that I'm about to cry, but I do not. I do not want to give him that much satisfaction.

After I break it, I look straight into my eyes. Their color beats in purple now, and I'd like to know what it means.

I'd like to know what we're going to tell the director about Mrs. Shee, but I think I'm leaving this to Amethyst.

– The world will wonder under what circumstances it's gone, do not you think?

–

"The world will never know that there has ever been any Mrs. Shee in this school, because once the historian disappears, she understands it?"

Until I return to say goodbye to him, he disappears, leaving a big question mark behind him. I rise from my unconscious shoulders, then throw my schoolbag over my shoulder.

The road to the house turned out to be a quiet one. No goat on the bus and no lady Shee in the woods. How do I close the door behind me with a relief that I've gotten full.

Ignor her mom's presence in the kitchen, which probably just came back from work and go straight to me to my room. I open the door and find Amethyst lying in bed.

It's exactly the book I was planning on putting my hand in the bedroom, and that's just because I'm curious to find out what the hell is that Badshee.

I sit down and look straight at the table. I search for my name, then I draw a line with the navel to the

Badshee. Do your homework, Ardeth, and do not tell anyone what happened here, all right?
I'll try. I think I'm gonna have to go home, stuff my stuff off the bench and drop them into the backpack.
Think fast, throw another card from the tower on the shelf to me.

end of the row where the page number is written.

Browse the pages until they reach the one on which Mrs. Shee's perfect copy appears after the transformation. Scary! It was frightening and before it turned.

A Badshee is a demon who hunts only at night and uses his voice at a high intensity to kill his prey, neutralizing his victims by weeping.

In short, that's all I need to know about this hideousness.

- I do not understand one thing, Amethyst. Why did he approach me otherwise? Here he writes that he hunts at night and uses his voice to kill the victims.

"That's because he did not intend to kill you, he's taking a short break in which I think he's asleep today. He was not going to kill me today, I repeat myself.

Why would he want to kill me?

I'm too muchthere are questions and apparently to find answers I have to look for them. I always hated shoving in shit, just for fear it would start, but now I feel compelled to do it.

"If you can not answer my questions, why are you here?"

If I had a drink at this time, I would certainly have spit everything.

As far as I know, my father had no unusual power, except for lying to me.

I get up from the floor, then make two big steps to the edge of the bed, just before jumping to the free spot next to him.

He turns his head toward me and intrigued with green eyes. It puts a tremendous pressure on me, much more when it comes to me, so I listen to it and close my eyes.

A tranquility of grave lies between us, but I can not hear anything, just the voice in my head that repeats continuously as stupid as I am.

To help you find answers. And now, because I'm lazy to talk, it would be appropriate to see what power you inherited from your father.
Do not be sucking, Ardeth. Your father did not lie to you.
You said you were lazy to talk.
Make your thoughts quiet and try to hear my own.

DMU Timestamp: July 16, 2019 02:59