Post by Monica on May 5, 2007 4:56:32 GMT -5
Sic erat in fatis (It was fated)
To be honest, American history has never been Symone’s favorite subject. But she had to prepare to the next lesson – it must have been test. So Symone with her nose burring into the textbook was sitting under the tree in the school courtyard. Anything written there wasn’t clear to her, but she had already understood that she had simply to notch everything. All of a sudden it was a din somewhere around her, like something heavy hit the tree. Symone winced and raised her head. Not far from her she saw Lance Stone who looked very unhappy. Dizzy and Cally – his friend and his twin-sister – were standing near him.
- It’s Vern. And his tricks, - Lance’s words reached Symone’s ears. – He charmed Sage.
- Lance, maybe, - Cally began and hesitated.
- What’s “maybe”, Cally? There can’t be no more explanations.
Vern? Charmed Sage? – Symone jumped up and come up to Lance’s company trying to make out.
- Hello everybody, - called her to them.
The company looked at her with astonishment.
- My name’s Symone, we have met before, but I don’t think you know my name. You’re Dizzy, aren’t you? And you’re Cally and Lance. Ain’t I wrong?
- Yeah. And you’re Vern’s friend? – asked Dizzy.
Cally gave him a warning look and rather friendly addressed to the black-haired gothic-girl:
- Did you want to ask us about anything, Symone?
- I believe you were talking about Vern. I’ve been looking for him for two breaks already, but can’t find him.
- Look for my girlfriend. Find her – and you’ll find your buddy, - grumbled Lance.
Symone take a step back, her face became a little white.
- Vern… Vern’s gone with Sage?
- Not only gone, but he was hugging and kissing her, - précised Lance, his voice filled with indifference. But he kicked a can so angrily, that Cally was even frightened.
Symone was ready to do the same, but instead of it she turned around and rushed away.
- You shouldn’t have to say that, - said Cally softly following Symone with her eyes.
- Shouldn’t have what?
- Listen, maybe you stop repeating all my words? – suddenly she became angry.
- I’m not repeating, - her brother was offended. – And let me alone. I feel bad – my girlfriend left me. And you’re bothering me.
- Lance, I think Cally’s right, - noticed Dizzy. – Take a look around. You’re not the only one who feels bad now!
- Stop saying rubbish, Diz. I’m the most miserable person in the whole world. Well, at least, in our town. – And besides you made miserable another person, - said Cally looking at Symone who was sitting under the tree, nervously turning her bracelet around her wrist and biting her lower lip.
- Who are you talking about? – asked Lance absently.
- About Symone, you blockhead. You upset her. Look, she’s almost crying.
- Goths don’t cry.
- But it doesn’t mean that they can’t be sad.
- Oh, Vern is so great reason to be sad about! And Sage is another matter…
- Lance, are you absolutely stupid?! – cried his sister. – I’ve been trying to tell you for five minutes that Symone is in love with Vern!
The deafening silence comes around. And then Lance stunned asked:
- How do you know that?
- She looks like that, - Cally waved away. – And you’re behaving like a selfish person. You should say sorry.
- To Sage?
- To Symone! You’d tell her that you didn’t want to talk about Vern and so on. And I’m to go. Emmett is waiting. – Cally grabbed her bag and went away.
- And what do you think about that, Diz?
- Think, that she’s right. Well, Lance, I’ll go to. I have my math’s classes.
- So you all want to leave me in my hour of need? – exclaimed Lance with displeasure.
- Sorry, friend, - Dizzy clapped Lance’s shoulder and went away.
- Great, - murmured Lance throwing his books into his bag. – And what am I supposed to do?
“Not to poke your nose into other people’s affairs” – whispered suddenly someone’s voice sounded like his own.
- Who is it? – Lance started.
“I am you, and you are me. But I hope that some day you’ll be in my place and I’ll be in yours. There’s so boring in this world, Lance”.
- Don’t even hope, Blaze! – exclaimed Lance being extremely uneasy. Several girls who were passing by, looked at him strangely, but he didn’t care a damn.
Blaze chuckled with soft ingratiating laugh.
“Some day me and Violet will replace you and your sister. So I’m saying you goodbye until then.
- Never! – screamed Lance. His ears were still ringing with Blaze’s laughter, and then it’s gone.
- Are you crazy? – asked somebody.
Lance turned around: Symone! She was calm like a boa. And only her bitted lips showed him that not far along she was very upset.
- Aaa… Symone, - began Lance. – I’d like to…
- Excuse me, but I’m late for history, - dropped Symone hurrying to the lesson.
- Are you in love with him?
Symone stood still for a moment and then pronounced not turning her face to him:
- Look after your own private life, Lance. Me and Vern are just friends.
- Yeah?
- Stop in! – she snapped back. – I’m not going to indulge in confidences with you.
One day later.
Symone opened her case to put a study book in it, but noticed a familiar to her knife handle represented with itself two weaved snakes. This knife was Vern’s gift. Symone got the knife from the case and ran her fingers over the inscription which decorated the blade. To Symone from Vern. And on the other side of the blade: Friends forever. She sighed and put the knife at its place. Suddenly somebody’s hands grabbed her shoulders. Symone turned around and saw glad grinning Vern’s face.
- Oh, that’s you, - prolonged she with indifferent expression on her face and shook his hands off. With the same indifference Symone took a book she needed to her next lesson from the case. Then she turned off Vern and went to the class.
- Symone! – called her Vern, flabbergasted.
- Bite me, Vern, - said she continued her way.
- Why are you offended with me?
- I’m not offended, Vern. I’m just hurrying to my lesson.
- Oh, come on! – Vern came up with Symone and stood just in front of her blocking her way.
- Let me pass.
- I won’t unless you explain me what the problem is. Symone, it’s me, Vern, your best friend. Don’t you remember? We’ve always told everything each other.
- After lessons, - said Symone after a little hesitation. – But now go out my way.
Symone looked angry, so Vern hurried to obey her. He stepped aside and was looking with amazement how Symone was going away. The door to the physics study closed behind her, and Vern leaned against the case. The quarrel with Symone unsettled him. Vern has never even thought how much their friendship meant to him and how he depended on it. Symone, who has always been around and supported him in everything, even in his stupid wish to become an almighty wizard. Symone – his best friend. She was the only one who understood him.
Symone, what hell happened to us? Why isn’t it so easy as it was before?
When the lessons were over, Vern was waiting for Symone near her case. He shifted from one foot to the other impatiently and glanced from time to time at the clock hanging in the hall. Sage and Lance, hanging one another, passed by and Vern at once looked to the different side.
And here she is! At last! Symone came closer and Vern noticed that something was wrong with her. Symone’s eyelids were swollen, but he couldn’t surely said if she had been crying. Her hair was a little tousled and her sweater which she was wearing in the morning now was gone.
- Well, let’s go? – asked Vern.
Symone nodded, locking her case. She turned and Vern noticed several new fresh scratches and cuts on her hands.
- When? – asked he taking her hand and carefully feeling every one of her cuts.
- Yesterday, - Symone shrugged her shoulders.
- How?
- You know, - she smiled.
- Hey, Symone, - Dizzy ran up to her out of his breath, - you left your sweater at literature classes.
- Thanks, - said Symone taking her sweater. She was already going to put it on when Vern suddenly took it and slip it on her shoulders.
- You know, I can dress myself, - remarked Symone, but actually she enjoyed it.
Vern just grinned and they went out of school. The sun was shining brightly and joyful, like it was its birthday day. The grass was lush and green. The birds were singing. So, Vern and Symone were going down the street. None of them was to begin the conversation. Vern didn’t know how to formulate the questions he had had great deal of to ask. And Simona just didn’t need to talk.
- Symone, - at last Vern broke the silence. – Isn’t your bag to hard for you?
- Are you licking my boots? – asked she perspicaciously.
- Nope, - he sighed. – I’m just trying to understand why you’re angry with me. Maybe I did or said something wrong?
- Don’t apologize, Vern. I just had a really foul day. I failed my history test and everything just like that. So you’re not the reason, - Symone couldn’t make herself say the truth.
- Well, all right, - and they lapsed into silence again.
- By the way, didn’t I tell you? – asked Symone a minute later. – Stephy is coming.
- Oh, that’s great. I have some questions right away. When? Alone or with Steve? And how old is her baby?
- Answer all your three questions at once, - laughed Symone. – The three of them come in three days. And Sabrina is already two.
- I haven’t seen them for ages, - said Vern thoughtfully. – Probably, since their wedding. What about Sabrina – I haven’t seen her at all.
- Stephy sent me several photos and the ones of her daughter among them. – Symone got the pictures out of her bag and offered them to Vern.
- She’s very pretty, - remarked Vern looking at photos.
- Are you talking of Steph or of Sabrina? – asked Simona.
- Both. The daughter is the very image of her mother, - smiled Vern returning the pictures. – And Steve hasn’t changed a bit.
- That’s right, - agreed Simona putting the photos into the bag. – Old fellow Steve has such a virtue.
- Mother knows?
Symone’s face darkened.
- Nope, - asked she briefly. – And if she did, she wouldn’t care. She has a new husband and a new family. She doesn’t need me and Stephy.
- I’m sorry, Symone. I didn’t mean to ask this question. It just escaped my lips.
Symone painfully bite her lip and didn’t say a word.
- I understand, Vern, - finally uttered she sadly. – But please, don’t you ever mention her name again. For my sake, try to keep in your mind: I don’t have mother.
Vern smiled and reached out his hand slowly but carefully wiping blood from Symone’s chin.
- For your sake I’ll do anything.
- Absolutely anything? – précised Symone.
- Absolutely anything, - confirmed Vern.
- Be just like you were before, - Symone asked looking right into his eyes. – Give up your striving for magic and… for your thoughts about Sage.
Vern nodded slowly surprised by the community of their thoughts. They were so alike that they even thought in the same way. And he really should stop thinking about Sage. She was just taking him for a ride. Symone beamed with joy and hugged her best friend jerky.
- Symone, I can’t promise you that. But I’ll be trying. I swear I will.
- Are you talking about Sage? – frowned Symone.
- About Sage too. Listen, - Vern took her hand, - that’s not easy – put out of head that what stuck there long ago. Both magic and Sage go very well with this determination.
- Well… At magic you’re really cool, - admitted Symone. – You know, opening doors and stuff like that.
Now it was time to Vern to beam with joy. He had heard approvals from Simona too seldom.
- But not always though, - added she pitiless. – Much more often you’re just a looser, Vern.
- Symone, stop jeering at me, - moaned Vern and raised his full of suffering eyes to the sky. – I do have power. And spells just don’t work for some reason.
- That’s your own fault.
- Why?
Symone took off her bag and hold it out to Vern.
- Carry.
- What was that? – asked Vern picking the bag unwillingly. However he himself offered her his service.
- That was my answer, my dear friend. And in future be more careful with what you saying, - said Simona moralizing. – Especially when you speaking to a girl.
- But Symone …
- I’ve said everything. And now let’s go home faster. I’m hungry.
Some time later.
- I don’t know what it’s going to be, but it’s not a butterfly. I’m not going to wait until it come out, - Symone declared. – I’m leavin.
- Well then leave. I’ll manage without you perfectly, - answered Vern looking at Sage lovingly.
- Well, great, - Symone rose to her feet, grasped her things and left slammed the door loudly.
Some more time later.
- I think you didn’t impress the “Dead ravens”.
- Where are they?
- Might be playing bowling.
- So why did you come?
- Well, I thought me and you… We are… Should I leave? – asked Symone.
- Do a favour, - Vern wasn’t even looking at her.
- I’m sick of rubbing shoulders with the guy who is despised by the whole school, - said Symone.
- So will you join them now?
Symone stood still thinking that she might have misheard. Her face was stony. Then she leaped up and rushed out of the store. She slammed the door with such a force that glasses trembled. Slowly Vern began to realize what he had blurted out. Oh, God, what an idiot am I! Symone … Vern was already ready to run after her and beg her pardon, when the Gamerz Cave door suddenly opened.
- Symone?- Vern called uncertainly. – Symone?
A tall man appeared on the threshold. His face was hidden by shadow. He came closer.
- Hello, Vern. – said Omen.
Three hours later
Vern was walking down the street to the Symone’s place to present his apologies. He felt that this time he went too far. And then, with Sage… He gave himself a promise, didn’t he?
Vern sighed and looked at the bouquet of dark-violet roses with which he wanted to redeem at least part of his fault. Simona liked flowers, particularly dark-colored. And Vern hoped that she’d like these ones. And he didn’t care a straw that his uncle would tear his head off for sure when he knew that Vern had picked flowers in his garden. Symone’s forgiveness – that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.
Vern ringed nervously a doorbell. The door of the house he knew so well was decorated with the picture of a bat. Melodious chime sounded inside the house. Symone didn’t' open the door right away. And when Vern saw her at last, he was horrified. His best friend’s outward appearance was calm and she looked ordinary wearing her black home dress with corset. But Vern felt that she was hardly keeping in her fury, anger and offence. Symone measured him with such a cold look that it was clear – she wanted him to beat off.
- I came to apologize.
- So you’ll leave the same way.
- I’m sorry, Symone. Please, I…
- Won’t do that again? – Symone took up. – No, Vern. Your fairy tales don’t express me no more. I’m sick of you always wipe your feet of me. I don’t want to see you and to talk with you any more. Get out of my sight!
Vern hanged his head, turned around and slowly walked along the road, feeling pain in pricked to blood palms. He dropped the bouquet on the grass and turned to take a final look at the house. Symone had already closed the door and Vern thought that when he would see her next time she wouldn’t be his best friend. This thought made him feel very sad for some reason. Vern swallowed a lump in his throat and began to drag himself along his way home, sad and miserable. At home he was going to have high words with his uncle.
Approximately a week later
- Hi, Vern.
- Hey, Cally. You too, if not joking.
Cally looked at Vern attentively and asked:
- What a porno stuff is jutting out your bag? Isn’t it a Playboy number?
- What? I left it at home! – he took his bag throw off quickly and examined it carefully.
- Now I’m joking, - laughed Cally.
- Damn, Cally, don’t trifle with this! And please, don’t do that any more! – said Vern with displeasure.
But Cally’s laughter was so catching that Vern began to laugh himself. They calmed down only in five minutes when the bell ringed at first time.
- I haven’t laughed so much for ages, - admitted Cally wiping the tears started to her eyes. – I haven’t laughed at all since Omen had gone, - added she sadly.
- Well, there’s nothing to laugh at, - confirmed Vern in a unexpectedly serious tone. – He loved you, Cally. You were the only one for whom Omen was ready to do anything.
- Vern, stop it. Don’t talk about Omen, please. – after everlasting days and nights she spent in crying, Cally was ready burst into tears again.
- I’m not a heartless blockhead, Cally, I understand how miserable you feel. No more words about Omen from me.
- Thanks.
- If only you asked yourself, - added Vern.
- I won’t, - Cally turned to the school advertisement-board and suddenly noticed there… “Dark Oracle, number 27”. – Damn it! A new comics, - whispered she to Vern. Cally quickly took the comics and look at the cover. – Hmmm… how strange…
- What’s it? – Vern was very impatient.
- Are you sure I’m going to let you have a look? – asked Cally jokingly. – Okey, look.
She gave the comics to Vern and he eagerly fixed his eyes on the cover of the “Dark Oracle”. There was a blurred dark silhouette with – undoubtedly – the knife in his hand. “Happy St. Valentine’s Day, Vern”, - read the words of the silhouette.
- Oh, shit! – sweared Vern.
- That’s right, - agreed Cally. – Seems, like someone wants to kill you.
- When is the Valentine’s Day?
- To all appearances, tomorrow. Why? Counting how much time do you have? – asked Cally with light spite.
- Buzz off, Cally, - snarled Vern kindly. – Who can do that… - and then he understood.
- Maybe everything’s not so bad, - Cally mused aloud. - Let’s see what is there next, - offered she.
Cally was turning over the pages of the comics and all of them were blank.
- Very strange, - remarked Vern.
- More than, - nodded Cally. – Oh, look at the last page.
The picture slowly showed through and soon Kelly and Vern saw a coffin twined with flowers.
- Deuce, Cally, I want to live! – cried Vern. – I’ve lived so little in this world.
- I’m very sorry, Vern, - Cally pursed her lips not to laugh. – I promise I’ll be at your funeral.
- That’s not funny, Cally.
- I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Well, let’s go to the classes?
- Yup. Will you show it to you brother?
- Third lesson is common. Then I’ll show him. So, I’m to run.
- See you.
Before the third lesson Cally was sitting in the classroom impatiently waiting for Lance. Elder for several minutes brother appeared right with the ring and flopped down his place.
- Lance, - whispered Cally. – Where have you been?
- With Sage.
- We have a new comics.
- Again?
- Miss and Mr. Stone! You will have a break to talk. And now would you be so kind to study.
- Sorry, - muttered the twins at the same time.
Math’s teacher nodded and continue to explain a new topic. Cally was trying to concentrate on the lesson but only the new number of comics was coming into her head. Suddenly a folded paper shift landed on her desk. Cally took it and unfolded it – a note from Lance.
“What’s there?”
Cally sighed and began to write. “Judging from the cover, someone is going to kill Vern. Except the cover there is only the last page. And there is a coffin in it.” She turned and threw the note to her brother.
Lance took it and began to read. Cally heard him sniffed quietly. Probably he was reading the first sentence. She frowned: Lance was owed Vern his life at large. He would stayed in comics if not Vern, Doyle and Omen. Vern was correcting his own mistake, though. But she was grateful to him all the same. And Omen and Doyle just couldn’t do another way. Cally received another one note. “Look. Maybe there appeared something else”.
Cally took the comics out off bag and open at random one of the last pages. Cemetery. Cally, Dizzy, Lance, Sage and… Vern were standing all wearing black. Vern is standing, lowering his gaze to the ground. Cally, Violet that is to say, heartening him and putting her hand onto his shoulder. Vern is taking her hand off, bending, grasping handful of earth and throwing it into the open grave. Tears running down his cheeks. Violet is coming up to Blaze and whispering something in his ear. Blaze is nodding and saying: “That’s not your fault, Vern”. “No, Blaze. It’s only mine. Leave us alone, please. I want to say goodbye”.
Blaze, Violet, Sage and Dizzy are going away and Vern is coming closer to the coffin.
- God damned! – Cally, lost in reverie, said that too loud. And the teacher turned her attention to her at once.
- Miss Stone!
- I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.
- For the last time.
- Of course, - Cally said leafed the pages of the “Dark Oracle” to the very beginning.
The first pages filled up – there was morning chat Cally with Vern there. Then – how she was waiting for Lance. Cally turned over the page. A dark dreary house in an ancient style, a big antique mirror on the wall with Symone’s reflection in it. She’s crying, moves off the mirror and walks to the drawing-room. A graceful knife with the handle looked like two snakes lays on the table there. “Happy St. Valentines’ Day, Vern”. Symone brings the knife to her hand and cuts the veins. Then she makes the same to the second hand.
- Miss Stone, leave the class, please, - asked the teacher.
- But I didn’t say a word, - rebelled Cally.
- You don’t listen to me and are reading comics during the lesson. Give me the magazine.
- No.
- Then leave the class.
- With pleasure, - whispered Cally, putting her stuff into the bag and getting up. Passing the teacher’s table she turned to Lance and whispered to him: I need you.
- But…
- Now, - and she disappeared behind the door.
Cally was nervously glancing at the clock thinking that Lance should better hurry up. The door opened and Lance came out of the class.
- Is everything so bad, Cal? – asked he business-like.
Cally poked the opened comics under his nose.
- Oh, f**k, - said Lance quietly after he saw Symone’s funeral and the page showing how she cut her wrists. – We must… Cally, do you know Symone’s address?
- I’ve already cleared it up, while you were dawdling there, - his sister nodded.
- That’s not my fault that mathematician didn’t want to let me go.
- Let’s go faster, we can argue on the way.
- Does she live far from here?
- In two blocks. Well, bro, do you feel ready to break in?
Lance peered at her flabbergasted. Cally showed him the page from the comics where Blaze and Violet were standing near the Symone’s house and Blaze was knocking the door out. At that moment the twins have already past a half way.
- Let’s go faster, Lance.
Her brother nodded and they start running. In just two minutes they being out of breath were standing near the big three-storey house.
- Break in, - command Cally briefly.
- Cally, maybe…
- Lance! – her intonation was rather convincing, so he obeyed.
Knocked the door out with his shoulder, Lance ran into the house. Cally ran after him and rushed to the drawing-room. On the luxurious black with red patterns in the center was lying Symone, and blood was streaming from her wrists. The ritual knife was lying about her. And all of a sudden Cally realized that there were no patterns but blood.
- The hell with it! – breathed Lance out in shock. And Cally who has already forgotten of her brother turned abruptly.
- Call 911, Lance.
- Where is the phone there?
- I don’t know, - Cally looked around trying to find out a prompt.
- What a fool am I! – exclaimed Lance suddenly. – I’ve got Sage’s cell!
- So call! Why are you so slow! – cried Cally.
- 9-1-1? Hello, we have an accident here, - began Lance.
Cally tried to stop bleeding – and it seemed to her, that the blood was flowing like a never-ending stream. How they were taught at the first-aid courses? I think, I should put in a tourniquet… Cally sighed, trying to calm down, then took the knife from the floor and snipped off the sleeve of her shirt. When Cally bandaged Symone’s hand a little bit above the cut, blood began to run slowlier at once. And Cally felt some relief. There was another hand, and girl shipped off the second sleeve of the shirt to make a tourniquet.
- Cal, you just look at this, - called Lance.
Cally hardly took her sight away from the blood-stained carpet and turned to her brother. Lance was giving to her the knife, which Symone had used to commit suicide. The blade was bloody, but Lance wiped it of the carpet and now Cally could read the engraving: To Symone from Vern. The twins had no more doubts.
To be honest, American history has never been Symone’s favorite subject. But she had to prepare to the next lesson – it must have been test. So Symone with her nose burring into the textbook was sitting under the tree in the school courtyard. Anything written there wasn’t clear to her, but she had already understood that she had simply to notch everything. All of a sudden it was a din somewhere around her, like something heavy hit the tree. Symone winced and raised her head. Not far from her she saw Lance Stone who looked very unhappy. Dizzy and Cally – his friend and his twin-sister – were standing near him.
- It’s Vern. And his tricks, - Lance’s words reached Symone’s ears. – He charmed Sage.
- Lance, maybe, - Cally began and hesitated.
- What’s “maybe”, Cally? There can’t be no more explanations.
Vern? Charmed Sage? – Symone jumped up and come up to Lance’s company trying to make out.
- Hello everybody, - called her to them.
The company looked at her with astonishment.
- My name’s Symone, we have met before, but I don’t think you know my name. You’re Dizzy, aren’t you? And you’re Cally and Lance. Ain’t I wrong?
- Yeah. And you’re Vern’s friend? – asked Dizzy.
Cally gave him a warning look and rather friendly addressed to the black-haired gothic-girl:
- Did you want to ask us about anything, Symone?
- I believe you were talking about Vern. I’ve been looking for him for two breaks already, but can’t find him.
- Look for my girlfriend. Find her – and you’ll find your buddy, - grumbled Lance.
Symone take a step back, her face became a little white.
- Vern… Vern’s gone with Sage?
- Not only gone, but he was hugging and kissing her, - précised Lance, his voice filled with indifference. But he kicked a can so angrily, that Cally was even frightened.
Symone was ready to do the same, but instead of it she turned around and rushed away.
- You shouldn’t have to say that, - said Cally softly following Symone with her eyes.
- Shouldn’t have what?
- Listen, maybe you stop repeating all my words? – suddenly she became angry.
- I’m not repeating, - her brother was offended. – And let me alone. I feel bad – my girlfriend left me. And you’re bothering me.
- Lance, I think Cally’s right, - noticed Dizzy. – Take a look around. You’re not the only one who feels bad now!
- Stop saying rubbish, Diz. I’m the most miserable person in the whole world. Well, at least, in our town. – And besides you made miserable another person, - said Cally looking at Symone who was sitting under the tree, nervously turning her bracelet around her wrist and biting her lower lip.
- Who are you talking about? – asked Lance absently.
- About Symone, you blockhead. You upset her. Look, she’s almost crying.
- Goths don’t cry.
- But it doesn’t mean that they can’t be sad.
- Oh, Vern is so great reason to be sad about! And Sage is another matter…
- Lance, are you absolutely stupid?! – cried his sister. – I’ve been trying to tell you for five minutes that Symone is in love with Vern!
The deafening silence comes around. And then Lance stunned asked:
- How do you know that?
- She looks like that, - Cally waved away. – And you’re behaving like a selfish person. You should say sorry.
- To Sage?
- To Symone! You’d tell her that you didn’t want to talk about Vern and so on. And I’m to go. Emmett is waiting. – Cally grabbed her bag and went away.
- And what do you think about that, Diz?
- Think, that she’s right. Well, Lance, I’ll go to. I have my math’s classes.
- So you all want to leave me in my hour of need? – exclaimed Lance with displeasure.
- Sorry, friend, - Dizzy clapped Lance’s shoulder and went away.
- Great, - murmured Lance throwing his books into his bag. – And what am I supposed to do?
“Not to poke your nose into other people’s affairs” – whispered suddenly someone’s voice sounded like his own.
- Who is it? – Lance started.
“I am you, and you are me. But I hope that some day you’ll be in my place and I’ll be in yours. There’s so boring in this world, Lance”.
- Don’t even hope, Blaze! – exclaimed Lance being extremely uneasy. Several girls who were passing by, looked at him strangely, but he didn’t care a damn.
Blaze chuckled with soft ingratiating laugh.
“Some day me and Violet will replace you and your sister. So I’m saying you goodbye until then.
- Never! – screamed Lance. His ears were still ringing with Blaze’s laughter, and then it’s gone.
- Are you crazy? – asked somebody.
Lance turned around: Symone! She was calm like a boa. And only her bitted lips showed him that not far along she was very upset.
- Aaa… Symone, - began Lance. – I’d like to…
- Excuse me, but I’m late for history, - dropped Symone hurrying to the lesson.
- Are you in love with him?
Symone stood still for a moment and then pronounced not turning her face to him:
- Look after your own private life, Lance. Me and Vern are just friends.
- Yeah?
- Stop in! – she snapped back. – I’m not going to indulge in confidences with you.
One day later.
Symone opened her case to put a study book in it, but noticed a familiar to her knife handle represented with itself two weaved snakes. This knife was Vern’s gift. Symone got the knife from the case and ran her fingers over the inscription which decorated the blade. To Symone from Vern. And on the other side of the blade: Friends forever. She sighed and put the knife at its place. Suddenly somebody’s hands grabbed her shoulders. Symone turned around and saw glad grinning Vern’s face.
- Oh, that’s you, - prolonged she with indifferent expression on her face and shook his hands off. With the same indifference Symone took a book she needed to her next lesson from the case. Then she turned off Vern and went to the class.
- Symone! – called her Vern, flabbergasted.
- Bite me, Vern, - said she continued her way.
- Why are you offended with me?
- I’m not offended, Vern. I’m just hurrying to my lesson.
- Oh, come on! – Vern came up with Symone and stood just in front of her blocking her way.
- Let me pass.
- I won’t unless you explain me what the problem is. Symone, it’s me, Vern, your best friend. Don’t you remember? We’ve always told everything each other.
- After lessons, - said Symone after a little hesitation. – But now go out my way.
Symone looked angry, so Vern hurried to obey her. He stepped aside and was looking with amazement how Symone was going away. The door to the physics study closed behind her, and Vern leaned against the case. The quarrel with Symone unsettled him. Vern has never even thought how much their friendship meant to him and how he depended on it. Symone, who has always been around and supported him in everything, even in his stupid wish to become an almighty wizard. Symone – his best friend. She was the only one who understood him.
Symone, what hell happened to us? Why isn’t it so easy as it was before?
When the lessons were over, Vern was waiting for Symone near her case. He shifted from one foot to the other impatiently and glanced from time to time at the clock hanging in the hall. Sage and Lance, hanging one another, passed by and Vern at once looked to the different side.
And here she is! At last! Symone came closer and Vern noticed that something was wrong with her. Symone’s eyelids were swollen, but he couldn’t surely said if she had been crying. Her hair was a little tousled and her sweater which she was wearing in the morning now was gone.
- Well, let’s go? – asked Vern.
Symone nodded, locking her case. She turned and Vern noticed several new fresh scratches and cuts on her hands.
- When? – asked he taking her hand and carefully feeling every one of her cuts.
- Yesterday, - Symone shrugged her shoulders.
- How?
- You know, - she smiled.
- Hey, Symone, - Dizzy ran up to her out of his breath, - you left your sweater at literature classes.
- Thanks, - said Symone taking her sweater. She was already going to put it on when Vern suddenly took it and slip it on her shoulders.
- You know, I can dress myself, - remarked Symone, but actually she enjoyed it.
Vern just grinned and they went out of school. The sun was shining brightly and joyful, like it was its birthday day. The grass was lush and green. The birds were singing. So, Vern and Symone were going down the street. None of them was to begin the conversation. Vern didn’t know how to formulate the questions he had had great deal of to ask. And Simona just didn’t need to talk.
- Symone, - at last Vern broke the silence. – Isn’t your bag to hard for you?
- Are you licking my boots? – asked she perspicaciously.
- Nope, - he sighed. – I’m just trying to understand why you’re angry with me. Maybe I did or said something wrong?
- Don’t apologize, Vern. I just had a really foul day. I failed my history test and everything just like that. So you’re not the reason, - Symone couldn’t make herself say the truth.
- Well, all right, - and they lapsed into silence again.
- By the way, didn’t I tell you? – asked Symone a minute later. – Stephy is coming.
- Oh, that’s great. I have some questions right away. When? Alone or with Steve? And how old is her baby?
- Answer all your three questions at once, - laughed Symone. – The three of them come in three days. And Sabrina is already two.
- I haven’t seen them for ages, - said Vern thoughtfully. – Probably, since their wedding. What about Sabrina – I haven’t seen her at all.
- Stephy sent me several photos and the ones of her daughter among them. – Symone got the pictures out of her bag and offered them to Vern.
- She’s very pretty, - remarked Vern looking at photos.
- Are you talking of Steph or of Sabrina? – asked Simona.
- Both. The daughter is the very image of her mother, - smiled Vern returning the pictures. – And Steve hasn’t changed a bit.
- That’s right, - agreed Simona putting the photos into the bag. – Old fellow Steve has such a virtue.
- Mother knows?
Symone’s face darkened.
- Nope, - asked she briefly. – And if she did, she wouldn’t care. She has a new husband and a new family. She doesn’t need me and Stephy.
- I’m sorry, Symone. I didn’t mean to ask this question. It just escaped my lips.
Symone painfully bite her lip and didn’t say a word.
- I understand, Vern, - finally uttered she sadly. – But please, don’t you ever mention her name again. For my sake, try to keep in your mind: I don’t have mother.
Vern smiled and reached out his hand slowly but carefully wiping blood from Symone’s chin.
- For your sake I’ll do anything.
- Absolutely anything? – précised Symone.
- Absolutely anything, - confirmed Vern.
- Be just like you were before, - Symone asked looking right into his eyes. – Give up your striving for magic and… for your thoughts about Sage.
Vern nodded slowly surprised by the community of their thoughts. They were so alike that they even thought in the same way. And he really should stop thinking about Sage. She was just taking him for a ride. Symone beamed with joy and hugged her best friend jerky.
- Symone, I can’t promise you that. But I’ll be trying. I swear I will.
- Are you talking about Sage? – frowned Symone.
- About Sage too. Listen, - Vern took her hand, - that’s not easy – put out of head that what stuck there long ago. Both magic and Sage go very well with this determination.
- Well… At magic you’re really cool, - admitted Symone. – You know, opening doors and stuff like that.
Now it was time to Vern to beam with joy. He had heard approvals from Simona too seldom.
- But not always though, - added she pitiless. – Much more often you’re just a looser, Vern.
- Symone, stop jeering at me, - moaned Vern and raised his full of suffering eyes to the sky. – I do have power. And spells just don’t work for some reason.
- That’s your own fault.
- Why?
Symone took off her bag and hold it out to Vern.
- Carry.
- What was that? – asked Vern picking the bag unwillingly. However he himself offered her his service.
- That was my answer, my dear friend. And in future be more careful with what you saying, - said Simona moralizing. – Especially when you speaking to a girl.
- But Symone …
- I’ve said everything. And now let’s go home faster. I’m hungry.
Some time later.
- I don’t know what it’s going to be, but it’s not a butterfly. I’m not going to wait until it come out, - Symone declared. – I’m leavin.
- Well then leave. I’ll manage without you perfectly, - answered Vern looking at Sage lovingly.
- Well, great, - Symone rose to her feet, grasped her things and left slammed the door loudly.
Some more time later.
- I think you didn’t impress the “Dead ravens”.
- Where are they?
- Might be playing bowling.
- So why did you come?
- Well, I thought me and you… We are… Should I leave? – asked Symone.
- Do a favour, - Vern wasn’t even looking at her.
- I’m sick of rubbing shoulders with the guy who is despised by the whole school, - said Symone.
- So will you join them now?
Symone stood still thinking that she might have misheard. Her face was stony. Then she leaped up and rushed out of the store. She slammed the door with such a force that glasses trembled. Slowly Vern began to realize what he had blurted out. Oh, God, what an idiot am I! Symone … Vern was already ready to run after her and beg her pardon, when the Gamerz Cave door suddenly opened.
- Symone?- Vern called uncertainly. – Symone?
A tall man appeared on the threshold. His face was hidden by shadow. He came closer.
- Hello, Vern. – said Omen.
Three hours later
Vern was walking down the street to the Symone’s place to present his apologies. He felt that this time he went too far. And then, with Sage… He gave himself a promise, didn’t he?
Vern sighed and looked at the bouquet of dark-violet roses with which he wanted to redeem at least part of his fault. Simona liked flowers, particularly dark-colored. And Vern hoped that she’d like these ones. And he didn’t care a straw that his uncle would tear his head off for sure when he knew that Vern had picked flowers in his garden. Symone’s forgiveness – that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.
Vern ringed nervously a doorbell. The door of the house he knew so well was decorated with the picture of a bat. Melodious chime sounded inside the house. Symone didn’t' open the door right away. And when Vern saw her at last, he was horrified. His best friend’s outward appearance was calm and she looked ordinary wearing her black home dress with corset. But Vern felt that she was hardly keeping in her fury, anger and offence. Symone measured him with such a cold look that it was clear – she wanted him to beat off.
- I came to apologize.
- So you’ll leave the same way.
- I’m sorry, Symone. Please, I…
- Won’t do that again? – Symone took up. – No, Vern. Your fairy tales don’t express me no more. I’m sick of you always wipe your feet of me. I don’t want to see you and to talk with you any more. Get out of my sight!
Vern hanged his head, turned around and slowly walked along the road, feeling pain in pricked to blood palms. He dropped the bouquet on the grass and turned to take a final look at the house. Symone had already closed the door and Vern thought that when he would see her next time she wouldn’t be his best friend. This thought made him feel very sad for some reason. Vern swallowed a lump in his throat and began to drag himself along his way home, sad and miserable. At home he was going to have high words with his uncle.
Approximately a week later
- Hi, Vern.
- Hey, Cally. You too, if not joking.
Cally looked at Vern attentively and asked:
- What a porno stuff is jutting out your bag? Isn’t it a Playboy number?
- What? I left it at home! – he took his bag throw off quickly and examined it carefully.
- Now I’m joking, - laughed Cally.
- Damn, Cally, don’t trifle with this! And please, don’t do that any more! – said Vern with displeasure.
But Cally’s laughter was so catching that Vern began to laugh himself. They calmed down only in five minutes when the bell ringed at first time.
- I haven’t laughed so much for ages, - admitted Cally wiping the tears started to her eyes. – I haven’t laughed at all since Omen had gone, - added she sadly.
- Well, there’s nothing to laugh at, - confirmed Vern in a unexpectedly serious tone. – He loved you, Cally. You were the only one for whom Omen was ready to do anything.
- Vern, stop it. Don’t talk about Omen, please. – after everlasting days and nights she spent in crying, Cally was ready burst into tears again.
- I’m not a heartless blockhead, Cally, I understand how miserable you feel. No more words about Omen from me.
- Thanks.
- If only you asked yourself, - added Vern.
- I won’t, - Cally turned to the school advertisement-board and suddenly noticed there… “Dark Oracle, number 27”. – Damn it! A new comics, - whispered she to Vern. Cally quickly took the comics and look at the cover. – Hmmm… how strange…
- What’s it? – Vern was very impatient.
- Are you sure I’m going to let you have a look? – asked Cally jokingly. – Okey, look.
She gave the comics to Vern and he eagerly fixed his eyes on the cover of the “Dark Oracle”. There was a blurred dark silhouette with – undoubtedly – the knife in his hand. “Happy St. Valentine’s Day, Vern”, - read the words of the silhouette.
- Oh, shit! – sweared Vern.
- That’s right, - agreed Cally. – Seems, like someone wants to kill you.
- When is the Valentine’s Day?
- To all appearances, tomorrow. Why? Counting how much time do you have? – asked Cally with light spite.
- Buzz off, Cally, - snarled Vern kindly. – Who can do that… - and then he understood.
- Maybe everything’s not so bad, - Cally mused aloud. - Let’s see what is there next, - offered she.
Cally was turning over the pages of the comics and all of them were blank.
- Very strange, - remarked Vern.
- More than, - nodded Cally. – Oh, look at the last page.
The picture slowly showed through and soon Kelly and Vern saw a coffin twined with flowers.
- Deuce, Cally, I want to live! – cried Vern. – I’ve lived so little in this world.
- I’m very sorry, Vern, - Cally pursed her lips not to laugh. – I promise I’ll be at your funeral.
- That’s not funny, Cally.
- I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Well, let’s go to the classes?
- Yup. Will you show it to you brother?
- Third lesson is common. Then I’ll show him. So, I’m to run.
- See you.
Before the third lesson Cally was sitting in the classroom impatiently waiting for Lance. Elder for several minutes brother appeared right with the ring and flopped down his place.
- Lance, - whispered Cally. – Where have you been?
- With Sage.
- We have a new comics.
- Again?
- Miss and Mr. Stone! You will have a break to talk. And now would you be so kind to study.
- Sorry, - muttered the twins at the same time.
Math’s teacher nodded and continue to explain a new topic. Cally was trying to concentrate on the lesson but only the new number of comics was coming into her head. Suddenly a folded paper shift landed on her desk. Cally took it and unfolded it – a note from Lance.
“What’s there?”
Cally sighed and began to write. “Judging from the cover, someone is going to kill Vern. Except the cover there is only the last page. And there is a coffin in it.” She turned and threw the note to her brother.
Lance took it and began to read. Cally heard him sniffed quietly. Probably he was reading the first sentence. She frowned: Lance was owed Vern his life at large. He would stayed in comics if not Vern, Doyle and Omen. Vern was correcting his own mistake, though. But she was grateful to him all the same. And Omen and Doyle just couldn’t do another way. Cally received another one note. “Look. Maybe there appeared something else”.
Cally took the comics out off bag and open at random one of the last pages. Cemetery. Cally, Dizzy, Lance, Sage and… Vern were standing all wearing black. Vern is standing, lowering his gaze to the ground. Cally, Violet that is to say, heartening him and putting her hand onto his shoulder. Vern is taking her hand off, bending, grasping handful of earth and throwing it into the open grave. Tears running down his cheeks. Violet is coming up to Blaze and whispering something in his ear. Blaze is nodding and saying: “That’s not your fault, Vern”. “No, Blaze. It’s only mine. Leave us alone, please. I want to say goodbye”.
Blaze, Violet, Sage and Dizzy are going away and Vern is coming closer to the coffin.
- God damned! – Cally, lost in reverie, said that too loud. And the teacher turned her attention to her at once.
- Miss Stone!
- I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.
- For the last time.
- Of course, - Cally said leafed the pages of the “Dark Oracle” to the very beginning.
The first pages filled up – there was morning chat Cally with Vern there. Then – how she was waiting for Lance. Cally turned over the page. A dark dreary house in an ancient style, a big antique mirror on the wall with Symone’s reflection in it. She’s crying, moves off the mirror and walks to the drawing-room. A graceful knife with the handle looked like two snakes lays on the table there. “Happy St. Valentines’ Day, Vern”. Symone brings the knife to her hand and cuts the veins. Then she makes the same to the second hand.
- Miss Stone, leave the class, please, - asked the teacher.
- But I didn’t say a word, - rebelled Cally.
- You don’t listen to me and are reading comics during the lesson. Give me the magazine.
- No.
- Then leave the class.
- With pleasure, - whispered Cally, putting her stuff into the bag and getting up. Passing the teacher’s table she turned to Lance and whispered to him: I need you.
- But…
- Now, - and she disappeared behind the door.
Cally was nervously glancing at the clock thinking that Lance should better hurry up. The door opened and Lance came out of the class.
- Is everything so bad, Cal? – asked he business-like.
Cally poked the opened comics under his nose.
- Oh, f**k, - said Lance quietly after he saw Symone’s funeral and the page showing how she cut her wrists. – We must… Cally, do you know Symone’s address?
- I’ve already cleared it up, while you were dawdling there, - his sister nodded.
- That’s not my fault that mathematician didn’t want to let me go.
- Let’s go faster, we can argue on the way.
- Does she live far from here?
- In two blocks. Well, bro, do you feel ready to break in?
Lance peered at her flabbergasted. Cally showed him the page from the comics where Blaze and Violet were standing near the Symone’s house and Blaze was knocking the door out. At that moment the twins have already past a half way.
- Let’s go faster, Lance.
Her brother nodded and they start running. In just two minutes they being out of breath were standing near the big three-storey house.
- Break in, - command Cally briefly.
- Cally, maybe…
- Lance! – her intonation was rather convincing, so he obeyed.
Knocked the door out with his shoulder, Lance ran into the house. Cally ran after him and rushed to the drawing-room. On the luxurious black with red patterns in the center was lying Symone, and blood was streaming from her wrists. The ritual knife was lying about her. And all of a sudden Cally realized that there were no patterns but blood.
- The hell with it! – breathed Lance out in shock. And Cally who has already forgotten of her brother turned abruptly.
- Call 911, Lance.
- Where is the phone there?
- I don’t know, - Cally looked around trying to find out a prompt.
- What a fool am I! – exclaimed Lance suddenly. – I’ve got Sage’s cell!
- So call! Why are you so slow! – cried Cally.
- 9-1-1? Hello, we have an accident here, - began Lance.
Cally tried to stop bleeding – and it seemed to her, that the blood was flowing like a never-ending stream. How they were taught at the first-aid courses? I think, I should put in a tourniquet… Cally sighed, trying to calm down, then took the knife from the floor and snipped off the sleeve of her shirt. When Cally bandaged Symone’s hand a little bit above the cut, blood began to run slowlier at once. And Cally felt some relief. There was another hand, and girl shipped off the second sleeve of the shirt to make a tourniquet.
- Cal, you just look at this, - called Lance.
Cally hardly took her sight away from the blood-stained carpet and turned to her brother. Lance was giving to her the knife, which Symone had used to commit suicide. The blade was bloody, but Lance wiped it of the carpet and now Cally could read the engraving: To Symone from Vern. The twins had no more doubts.
