Morning Joy. [Open]

[Hadley Chase]

Gushing. The word itself made her stomach go all out on the gymnastics routine. She could practically hear the applause. Never before had a body part done so many flips in a row. A hand instantly went to her stomach. Hadley hoped what little breakfast she had had, half a bagel and a coffee, three shots, would stay down.

“I don’t like blood.”

SHe sounded slow, half-witted but her eyes remained transfixed on the crimson that stained his skin. Hadley had been the first to reach Ely. The rest of the family had dribbled from the house as the first shout was chased from her lips by the second scream. The helpless feeling ran through her veins. What did you do in a situation like this? When one child lay bleeding on the side of the rode and the other stood screaming just next to him. With one hand she had reached for Otter, the soothing words she intended for comfort never left her lips. And all the while her head thumped. It had been William who had released the phone from Hadley’s grip, William at age fifteen had mastered the hysteria with such an ease she had almost been fooled. Upon hanging up the phone he placed a hand on her shoulder and the pair had stood back as their mother and father had taken charge over the twins. The driver of the red car had stood on the path watching in disbelief. Hadley had the urge to sock him but she knew that it wasn’t his fault but her own.

That night William was left in charge until their aunt arrived the next morning with an update. Hadley had been unable to sleep, to find peace that she was so undeserving of. Instead she had sat outside the rooms of her siblings, moving from door to door, tucking them in and listening to the their breathing. In the end she had wound up curled beside Otter in his new ‘big boys bed.’ Hadley had curled against him, her eyes resting closed. She couldn’t keep them open for every time she glimpsed her brothers sleeping form, she thought of Ely and the blood that had run so fast from the cuts on his body that shouldn’t of been there. At three am se had fallen asleep to sounds of his screaming.

Hadley blinked, dazed. At the mention of her hair she reached a hand to her red mane and tugged on a curl just like the little ones used to when they were babies.

“Is that a….good thing?”

Hadley had never-minded her hair colour until fifth grade. Fifth grade was the dawning of the inner bitch within every female. It emerged from the nicest of souls and the prettiest of faces and through fights over the monkey bars, it consumed them. No matter how nice you were or how hard you tried there was always something to be used in means of teasing. For Hadley it had been her hair colour. It stood out as unusual and in the year where conforming was a necessity she was a warrior. All the other girls were blonde or brunette. They all had straight hair and straight noses with tanned skin and thin legs sticking out from shrinking skirts. Hadley was pale with cheeks that flushed in the wind and heat. She had red locks that cascaded down the plane of her back but she was skinny with a quick tongue and a sense of congratulatory humour. She fought well against the school social values and ideals.

Nowadays she didn’t let the comments bother her. She knew for every finger you pointed three pointed back at you. [Like seriously, try it! Point and then the other three fingers point in your direction. Rad.] For every fault you found with a person it reflected back to your insecurities. Hadley was bigger than that to care. And still she found herself asking the question. Perhaps she just wanted to know where Ni stood in this superficial world.

Ah. Shape-shifting. Hadley had always been proud of her power but she had always wondered if your power reflected your personality. Wynne’s power was invisibility and amongst the snobs and beauty queens she was so quiet, not plain, in fact she was rather pretty, just quiet. She also seemed to suffer from insecurities and her power gave her a way to just disappear. For Hadley it was shape-shifting, perhaps her own insecurities with her looks had triggered it. When she just didn’t want to be herself she could be anyone. Who knew what caused the powers?

“Just people but there’s a boy at the school, Connor who can shape-shift into objects. I suppose that would be pretty useful but I’d prefer to look like a person than a bin.”

Hadley had every intention of returning the question and asking his power but there was no need for it. One minute she was sitting on the step outside the Front Building with a short boy called Ni sitting beside her and the next minute she was sitting on the step outside the front building with nothing but the trees and their shadows. At first she was taken aback figuring that his power was to transport himself but then she heard his voice from the same spot beside her. Invisibility, like Wynne. But that would mean he had either not gained control over his power like her or that she was mistaken for his voice was projected through visible teeth that shone so white. It was then she noticed how they pointed.

“I…ah-wow. You’re-”

What exactly? He had completely vanished except his mouth, which became visible as he spoke. It was then it clicked and things fell into place.

“A shadow.”

Hadley smiled, her eyes slightly wide in disbelief. So his power wasn’t a lets-wreck-havoc-on-the-world-and-kick-major-ass it was still pretty nifty. Imagine all the things you could do as a shadow, imagine or the things you could listen in on or watch. In a way it was like shape-shifting except he shifted into shadows. Shadow-shifting. It was then she wondered; if her theory was correct would that mean that Ni had always felt he was in the shadow on someone else, living in the shadow of someone else’s dream.

But then again, didn’t everyone feel that way sometimes.

[Ni Gustov]

“Don’t mean to be rude or anything,” he started. “But a lot of people don’t like blood. It’s a common fear. I don’t know why, maybe because people don’t like to see their life slipping through their fingers. Because that’s all blood really is. Life.”

When Ni was younger, he had been playing by the creek towards the back of their farm. There was a large barbed-wire fence back there, dividing the Gustov’s property from the neighboring farmers. There had been a red rubber ball in the creek, and like a normal kid, Ni went to play with it, and to throw it to his boarder collie Amnesty. The ball got caught under the fence, so Amnesty wouldn’t go and get it. Ni had gotten out of the water, and climbed under the fence to retrieve the ball. The first string of the wire was very low to the ground, but Ni had attempted to climb under it anyway. Though he was small and thin then, he wasn’t small enough. He had gotten caught under the barbed wire.

The dumb thing was, he had tried to move. The barbed wire cut into his arm, giving him long jagged scars for the rest of his life. The blood had poured out from the wounds, but he had done nothing to stop it. He allowed the blood to drip into pools in the dirt. No one had come to look for him. They had all left him there for about three hours, thinking that he was just having fun in the river. When his neighbor had come to check on some crop, and heard the crying of a 5 year old Ni, it was him who stopped to make sure the kid was alright. The neighbor cut the fence, and helped Ni out. He also cleaned the wounds on his arms, revealing the long, deep, cuts in on them. Ni could remember the color of the blood vividly, but he didn’t fear it. If your life was out of your control, maybe you’d fear blood more. If you felt like you were losing life, then you would try to hold onto the blood that rushed inside of you, the life that was inside.

“A bin?” He asked. “That really wouldn’t serve much use.” The teeth grimaced, and one arm stretched off to the side. “Hello evildoers! My name is uh…Connor, and I shall destroy you and your evil ways with my amazing power of transforming into a garbage bin! Fear me!” the teeth smiled again. “Wow…Maybe I didn’t get the short end of the power stick after all. At least I can spy on stuff. Can you even hear if you’re a bin?”

“See, it’d be cool to be able to shift to a person. Imagine all the nifty stuff you could do if you looked just like someone else. Though it would be a pain to have to act like them…That would be bothersome…”

It seemed about then when she noticed Ni was gone…or the tangible Ni anyway. All that was left now was his shadow (which was him) and his teeth. He grimaced, and spread out his arms. They were nothing but shadow, and rippled up the stairs. He was aware he looked strange, but Hadley would just have to deal with it.

“Yeah, it would appear that way.” He said, trying to laugh. “It usually doesn’t happen like this…I’m usually pretty much in control…but still…everybody has slip-ups.” The teeth smiled a bit. “It’ll last for a while I think, usually when it happens like this, it does. Sometimes it happens another way. Be thankful it didn’t, I’d be left in a lousy mood.”

And it was true.
Ni was very lucky in the aspect that his moods never really affected his powers. He could control them for the most part, but when he got nervous, his power would go haywire. One of two things would happen. The first one would be the easiest to deal with. About half the time when he was nervous all he would do was shadow shift and stay that way for about three hours, or until he calmed significantly down. The other one was not so good. The other half of the time he would flicker back and forth to shadow rapidly, sort of like a bad T.V. reception. The second option, or reaction, was the worst. It made him tired, and made him go a bit crazy.

“Have you lived in the city your entire life?” He asked randomly, it was the way he often asked questions. “I came here when the school accepted me…But I know that some kids lived here their entire lives. I’ll tell you something, this place is a hell of a lot better than the farm. Not that I hate farming, I just hate the town that came with our farm.” He laughed.

Yeah, he came from a town with a bunch of hicks. Hill-billies. People from the Paw-Paw patch. Kind of sad really.

He was silent for a few moments, pensive, as if he was trying to come up with something. And then it hit him.

“Hey…Next weekend I’m playing cello at the ‘Be-Goth Club.’ Its kind of really informal, I play there every month, but if you’d like to come, you’re welcome to. Only problem is, there is kind of a dress code. Not enforced, but if you don’t want a bunch of depressed, murderous looking kids chasing you with their wooden stakes, I suggest you wear black. All black. I actually have a card, but I don’t think I can give it to you now, as its in my room, and I can’t pick it up even if I tried. I’m a soloist cello for my solo group ‘The Ghastly Cello Society.’ It’d be great if you could come, but you don’t have to.” He shrugged, though it wasn’t really visible. Being a shadow had many drawbacks.

[Hadley Chase]

I don’t know why, maybe because people don’t like to see their life slipping through their fingers. Because that’s all blood really is. Life.

And a reminder.

Four days later and news of her parents return and been spread through the street. During that four-day period all that knew of the tragedy that had befallen the Chase family within their suburban neighbourhood had popped for a brief chat, bringing with them baked goods, which they set down on the table. Hadley had welcomed them inside, her hesitation buried in the depths of her mind where it was consumed by her polite smile and even gaze. She didn’t want to ‘chat’ but she knew how awful her cooking was and how pleased the children would be from a break of burnt macaroni and cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches. She also knew that they meant no harm by it but merely wanted to express their sympathies for the families’ misfortune. Hadley was so completely and utterly hopeless in a kitchen that she found herself burning water, leaving pots on too long so they boiled over and generally making a fool of herself. Her claim to fame was that although she had attempted it many times, she was still unable to make two-minute noodles. They were either undercooked or burnt but never exactly right, no matter how hard she tried.

The afternoon before her parents were meant to arrive home their neighbour across the street, Mr Johnson had knocked on their front door. The Johnson’s were a nice enough family. They had young children themselves that the Chase’s had befriended when they first moved in the neighbourhood and sometimes when the parents wanted a break Hadley or Will would alternate babysitting jobs. Hadley had never seen much of Mr Johnson though. He was a writer and spent most of his time cooped up in his study or wandering the streets looking for inspiration. But sometimes when sleep struggled from her grasp and slipped through her fingertips she would find herself sitting at her window watching a shadow bent over a desk, in the only alit room. He fascinated her but the way he huddled over his work like a shield of protection from vicious eyes. Hadley had never known him to release any novels but she knew for a fact that he had several finished copies poised on his shelving. She also knew for a fact that he had never attempted to hound publishing houses to get his work out into the world. Perhaps he feared rejection. Perhaps he was waiting for the perfect novel flowing from his mind of imagination onto paper and then circulating the globe, falling into the hands of those who would appreciate it. The only thing Hadley had ever heard him say about his writing was that he looked not for money, nor for fame. He just wanted his loved ones to read it and to see the expressions on their faces. He didn’t need to acceptance of the rest of the world. He didn’t need them to acknowledge his work and tell him it was good because the rest of the world didn’t matter to Mr Johnson. He was indeed, a marvellous man.

And his offer was indeed gracious. After politely refusing to burden their home and join her for a spot of tea Mr Johnson had announced his real reason for coming. His offer still lingered between them as Hadley contemplated. He wished to offer help by washing the driveway and scrubbing it clean of the stains and after a moment or two Hadley had graciously accepted.

Ten minutes later, in the dying heat of the day Mr Johnson hosed down their driveway and set to work with a scrubbing and white sudds that consumed the red. Half an hour later, he had made progress and Hadley never left that window. A further five minutes past and she brought him a glass of lemonade and a water container. Without words, or need of thanks he took them from her and drank heavily. When he returned to work Hadley refilled his buckets of water and joined him in the silence. It was only later when Hadley had watched his retreating back and heard the closing of his door that she noticed the heart. On the side of the driveway a small red heart barely half the size of her palm remained. Like a reminder of something she would not forget.

Hadley stretched her feet out in front of her on the step and lifted her gaze from Ni to her toes. She wriggled them. When Hadley was fourteen she’d got a tattoo. Her parents still didn’t know but it wasn’t in a highly noticeable spot so she doubted they would ever find out. Southward, just covered by the line of her underwear and togs was a Kanji symbol for remember. And remember she did.

“We used live in an apartment in the city just the four of us. Then my mum had Michael and Marcus and Charlotte and we moved. We moved again after the twins which was kind of lucky really because Patrick James came along two years later and there was no way the ten of us would have fit in our other house.”

She smiled. She liked talking about her siblings. They reminded her of home and what she had waiting for her. She used to like talking about her parents too, but that was…complicated now. It wasn’t worth the hassle most of the time.

“And yeah. Now we live in a suburban neighbourhood in Connecticut. I always loved the city though. But you live on a farm, that’s pretty cool.”

Their uncle owned a farm. The type with animals where you got up at the crack of dawn to do chores. They didn’t see him much but it was always fun.

“Wow. That sounds great. I’d love to come.”

Hadley nodded enthused, her blue eyes wandering back to his shadow form. A smile broadened and rippled across her mouth. She liked this. Just sitting and talking abd being normal. No stress, no worries. Just talking and sitting. No mind-game playing.

“I’m sure I can conform with the dress code for an evening. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a concert like that before.”