AWAKEN

The Protected Bond

    The curly blonde girl’s calming yet authoritative voice pulled me out of my rage. I tore myself away from the foul boy, not caring what he said or dared to do us. My curiosity was far beyond some pathetic oversized bully. I stepped closer to the blue-eyed girl and tilted my head. "What do you mean? It is not your time?" The words sounded so strange to my ears.

In the middle of Wesley's huffing and puffing, she gave me the most endearing smile. Her tiny, plump pink lips spread cheerfully across her porcelain face. The way she smiled was contagious and calming to my soul. I couldn't help myself. In the middle of Wesley spitting on the ground, calling us names, a tiny smile twitched at the corner of my lips. She whispered, "Breathe, Brea. It will be okay."

I nodded and took a breath, and she did too. "That's it, Freaks! You two are done!" Wesley lashed out with his fist in the air.

Simultaneously, we shifted our bodies towards Wesley. The ice-cold raindrops fell down on my head. One, then two. They kept coming until we were standing in the middle of a storm. Buckets of water poured on us, but we didn't run for cover. The girl stepped in front of me with her chest poked out, and her tiny fist clamped to her sides. 

Raindrops poured down Wesley's narrow clenched jawline, and the grease from his hair stuck to his temples.  He shivered but shook it off to appear braver than he was. I shook my head in disgust at the boy.  That pissed him off more. Wesley hissed, "Shaking your head at me, Little Freak? Who do you think you are?"

He attempted to step closer, but a gust of wind knocked him back. His face turned crimson-red. "Do you think a little wind and rain will scare us?" he dared. 

The girl asked innocently, "Us?"

The wicked boy's face went ghostly white. Wesley knew what the girl meant. He slowly turned around and discovered that he was all alone in an abandoned park. His friends were missing. I didn't remember them running away like the rest of the people did, but I was watching the little girl, so maybe I missed them... or maybe I didn't.

Wesley gasped in shock, "What the hell," when he saw he was alone. 

The wind began to whip fiercely throughout the air and slammed right into the pit of Wesley's stomach. It tossed Wesley further and further until he landed in the thick, unwelcoming forest behind the park. We heard the branches snap and crack until the forest became silent. The wind and the rain simmered down until there was nothing more than a gentle breeze. My voice unfamiliar to myself came out deep and monotone. "He's gone now."

The little girl nodded and said calmly, "Yes, he is."

I blinked several times and glanced at the forest, the park, and then towards her. "Are you magic?" I needed to know. 

She giggled. "No more than you."

"Me magic? Hardly… but you?" 

"How do you figure I am magic?" The little girl grasped her palms together.

I gestured towards the forest. “Well, you made Wesely fly for one.”

"I made that boy fly?" An innocent smile slid across her face as she suggested, "How funny. You must have a great imagination."

The sun began to peak slowly out from the clouds, and several birds chirped as they landed upon the over towering trees. I thought about it for a moment before turning around and staring towards the empty swing set.

I wondered how much real, and how much was just my imagination. Then, I began to question whether Wesley existed in the first place? My mind had a habit of playing tricks on me.

"Well, I guess you're right. I do tend to imagine a great bit. At least that is what my Papa always says."

"If you don't mind me saying so, I am sure your Papa is amazing, but never doubt yourself, especially if you truly believe in something."

My eyes began to swell with tears. I had not had someone have so much faith in me since my Daddy passed away. "Really?" I asked in a hopeful voice.

"Yes," she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

My heart sunk as I glared towards the haunting forest, "But, you just said I must have a great imagination, and if the boy didn't fly," I paused and looked down towards my feet, "what if I imagined the entire thing? What if... what if Wesley wasn't even real?"

She interrupted and scowled her eyebrows towards the forest. "Wesley was very real."

"Well, if Wesley was real, then he was a very bad boy."

She put her hand gently on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry, he's gone now."

Taking a breath of relief, I nodded in agreement. "You're right, he is."

She looked down, where I had been drawing in the sand. I thought nothing of it, but somehow, the images were unfazed by the weather; every bit was perfectly intact. She squatted down and traced the symbols with her fingers. "You are very creative."

I smiled bashfully. "Thank you."

"No, I mean it. It is an image of an Elemental Pentagram. Not many people know about this, or at least care to anymore." She paused and rubbed the grits of sand between her fingers. "Where did you learn this from?"

I didn't understand what she was asking. "I didn't learn it from anywhere. Why?"

She raises her eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?" 

"Yes. I am sure," I shrug my shoulders. "I just made it up. It is no big deal."

She stared at the image for a minute before standing up. She reached her hand out an offering to introduce herself, "My name is Genna, Genna Erwing."

I reached out and grabbed her warm hand, "Brea, Brea Adrian."

*******

 Time passed, and sadly enough, my grandparents did too. Genna and I grew wiser and older. Genna constantly protected me even when I did not ask her to.  I did not mind, though I knew that it meant she cared about me. It was nice to have someone believe in what I did and how I felt. When I had nightmares, I could call her. When I had fears and questions, she was there. The only strange part, she never let me visit her home, and she would only come to me. 

High school was the same. We were on the same debate teams and drama club. Genna surprised me when she joined the art club too. I thought she hated drawing. Genna said it wasn't her 'thing,' but she perfected every class with straight A's without studying or lifting a finger. I struggled because of the nightmares. I never mentioned to Genna about my Daddy's secret. A promise is a promise. I feared if I told Genna the truth, I would break Daddy's magic.

With high school came peer pressure and drama. I watched people fall in and out of love, fight, gossip, give themselves to each other without worrying about the consequences. I never got to experience any part of that. The kids our age never attempted to befriend me. Few boys were brave enough to come near me, and no girl would dare mess with me. If they tried, Genna would faithfully appear. No one messed with Genna. I wanted to tell her I could handle it, and the familiar words would always ring in my ears.

 "It is not your time."