So yeah. New update since... APRIL.
Agh, I hate not updating in so long. I just want to face-palm myself
But anyway, this next little story line is about Wendy discovering the Cursed Amulet of Arragon (remember *winkwink*). And she's going to use it, thinking it'll help with her her new advanced training with Danny. Meanwhile, both her and Danny are on the paths to helpinf themslves find out ore about their mysterious and dark questions, like for Danny, who exactly am I?, and with Wendy, Who is my dad?
Meanwhile, I thought I'd incorporate a different side story to this one, too. Meawhile, while dealing with all that dramatic stuff I just typed up there, Shane's also secretly gotten into smoking, which Wendy is TOTALLY against.
I thought I'd use that idea becuase I was reading through one of my old diaries once, and I remembered a long time ago when I found out my best friend (now boyfirend gaaaa^^) was smoking, and I got so... frustrated with it. So I annoyed the crap out of him until, well, yeah. He stopped. Soooo... I thought I'd use that as a story idea. Heh, it's fun remembering bad situations with happy endings.
So yeah, hope you guys like this chapter! :)
One late night in the underground lab of Fenton Works, the eerie ghost portal opened, showing its glowing green light, illuminating the lab. Danny was hovering in front of it, waiting for a guest. Soon enough out came Spectra, one of Danny's long-time aquaintances. "Spectra," Danny greeted.
"Danny, my my what a surprise, you calling me over to the human realm," Spectra said in that superior tone. "Here for me to do another test for that cute little student of yours? You know I've already done all I can do for her."
"I didn't call you over here for Wendy's training," Danny clarified, striking surprise and confusion on Spectra's pale ghostly face. "Remember what you told me before after the kids left?"
Spectra frowned. "Mm. What about it?" Spectra recalled exactly what she told Danny, word for word. You're a ghost, Danny. You don't remember anything about your human life. Listen, I've known you for quite some time so I feel like I owe you a little favor. I'm a therapist. I can help you remember - if you want to, that is. Remembering when you were alive isn't for everyone. I know. I've helped others remember. But I feel like you're ready now. I can see you look a little hesitant, but feel free to call me if you ever need my services.
"I think... I think I want to remember," Danny concluded.
Spectra still held her frown. "Are you sure? There's no going back once you recall it. You might not like what you see."
"I think I'm willing to take that risk," Danny assured. "Wendy's gotten me thinking lately about it. What I must've been like when I was alive."
"Winnona. Nice girl. She's changed you, Danny. I remember long ago how you didn't want anything to do with the human world, how you didn't want to remember anything about being alive. All secluded in this lab of yours. Now here you are, opening your heart to those children, to that little girl. I must say Danny, I'm proud."
"So will you do it?"
"Not just yet," Spectra smirked. "I can't perform the hypnotism here. It has to be in the ghost zone. Come over in two days. And be prepared." With that, she bided her silent farewell and flew backwards into the ghost portal. The doors to the portal closed, cutting of the only light in the lab.
"..." Nett starred at Shane like he was insane. Or maybe he was. He couldn't figure it out. All he knew was that both his mind and his literal voice were speechless. Hard to believe.
Shane glared at the nerd. "What."
"Sorry dude but it's just, wow," Nett managed out, rubbing his temples. "Smoking? Are you insane?"
"Anyone ever told you how loud you were?" Shane asked with a finger in his ear. The two were currently at school, waiting at Shane's locker for me who was currently still in class. Nett had just caught Shane with a packet of cigarettes in his locker, and of course Shane wasn't the type to try and play it off and hide it. Instead Shane seemed to shrug off the matter like it was nothing. In fact, he didn't really think very much of it at all.
"Do you have any idea how bad those things are for you give me those-"
Shane slammed his locker shut before Nett could push him aside. "Hey I think you have a tech-obsession but you don't see me trying to stop you."
"Yeah well tech-stuff is a totally different thing from this wouldn't you think?" Nett argued, obviously very strung up about this. He took a deep breath. "Look I'm not gonna tell you how to run your life. You wanna kill yourself then fine, but I'm just sayin' Wendy's not gonna like this. You think she's loud now? She's gonna be all up in your face if she catches whiff of this stuff."
"Who said she's ever going to know?" Shane scoffed, almost sounding like he was laughing. "Besides, I've been doing this for a while and neither you or Wendy's ever seemed to notice. She's not going to be finding out any time soon unless you tell her."
"What. You gonna threaten me not to tell her?" Nett taunted.
"You can tell her for all I care. It won't change anything. If anything, it'll just needlessly trouble her and you and I both know we don't want to deal with that girl nagging all day at me."
Sadly Nett knew he was right. Still, knowing that one of his friends actually smoked? It was weird. Well, yeah it's high school so yeah it's supposed to be normal to find guys who smoke. But Shane of all people? It just sounded impossible to Nett. And possibly more impossible to-
"Hey guys!" I greeted, running up to them down the empty hall.
"Yo," Nett greeted unenthusastically, trying to hide his previous concern. "Ready for practice? I heard Danny's teaching you defensive techniques this weekend."
I let out a cough to clear my throat. "Yup. It's Friday, start of a weekend - a weekend of work, work, and... more work." I paused for a moment. "Wow. That's sad."
It's still hard to believe it's already February. I don't think about it that much, but sometimes I forget that all this training we invest our time in has an actual time limit. Summer. That's when I'm supposedly going to face this horrible bad guy who wants to conquer and or destroy the worlds of here and the ghost zone. One or the other, these next few months are going to fly by fast, I think. I was about to say something else until I fell into another short coughing fit.
"Wow, sick much?" Shane asked with a hint of real but sarcastic sounding concern.
I forced myself to stop and tapped my chest with my fist. "I'm fine. Probably a bad cough going around or something. The coldness of the school and the inner coldness of being half ghost doesn't really mix well. So until a real weekend can come along, I'll have to endure with my normal and lacking human immune system. Come on, we better go now before Danny thinks we're skipping again."
Training at Danny's today was no different from the past few weeks of regular work. It's already well into February, and our last major battle was against two ghosts, Spectra and Bertrand. About two or three days ago. And according to Danny's evaluation of my fighting then, 'you keep getting hit'.
Apparently dodging skills won't matter if some attacks are impossible to dodge, no thanks to Bertrand. So now, Danny's prepared a training session to improve my ghost-shields.
"Reflective shields?" I stated in agasp. "Danny I can barely produce regular shields, let alone good ones. Now you want me to make ones that can deflect explosive attacks?"
"Gotta push you somewhere right?" Danny replied with a shrug. I love Danny, but sometimes I hate how he's like a teacher, and a parent. Nothing worse than a mixture of both those things. And he technically isn't even either of them. "Don't look to depressed about it. It's easy. You just have to tap into the same power you use with making your regular shields and just develop on that. It's like how you enhanced your ghosts sense to sense where ghosts are instead of just sensing if they're near by."
"I can't do that well either."
"Then you're a failure as a ghost."
"I'm not even a full ghost!"
"That'd not my fault." (1st Author's note: heh, it's funny cause it kinda is now that I think about it)
As Danny and I held our daily small arguments, the two by-standers Nett and Shane were once again watching from the basement lab staircase.
Nett was well focused into his homework while Shane just sat by, watching. "And you wonder why I argue with Wendy a lot. She fights just as much with Danny, or with anyone for that matter."
"Yeah but you fight with her 'cause you like her," Nett pointed out absent-mindedly as he kept a steady eye on his geometry book. However in that time Shane had thrown a second notebook at the geek's head.
Once Danny and I settled down, I was about to go ghost until Danny stopped me. "Wait. If you want to work on turning your shields reflective, you have to work more on your inner focus."
Um...Inner focus? "And how do you propose I do that, oh-wise-one?"
"Let's start with a very literal question: Why do you use a shield?"
"Um, to... block... stuff?" What's the purpose is asking me that?
"Exactly. And one way to improve is to learn to physically block things coming at you - without making the ghost shield first. Think of this as a weird training exercise."
"It is a weird training exercise."
"Hey Nett! Shane! Feel like being part of training and throwing stuff at Wendy!" Danny called.
"Ooh! I'm game!" Nett answered enthusiastically. It didn't take long for him to ditch his math work for the oppertunity to throw projectiles at me with permission. Danny's permission, anyway. And as for Shane, agh, no hints of hesitation as far as I can see. ... Hey wait what?
"Wait you mean they're actually gonna throw things at me?" I asked in disbelief. "And I can't go ghost to make ghost shields."
"That's the plan," Danny nodded, gathering a bunch of useless junk to be thrown.
"So how am I supposed to protect myself?"
"The old fashioned way, duh?" Nett teased, performing some mock kung-fu moves that looked highly... bad.
"Ready, Manson?" Shane smirked, picking up a plastic beaker. Kill me now.
For now, let's just say this part of training must have been my most humiliating moment. Ever. I've never felt so defenseless, much less stupid. Shane and Nett were tossing things at me like it was nobody's business. Think snow ball fights. Except not with soft white snow. Or a big frozen wall of snow to block you. Just your hands, your arms, your elbows. And each time something hit me I couldn't help but scream a little 'ow!' or 'hey!' or 'Quit it'!
If anything this was more raising my temper than my 'inner focus'.
Finally, it hit me. "I SAID, QUIT IT!" Someone had thrown a light-weight metal box at me (don't worry it's not as bad as it sounds). But as it flew at me, instead of holding my my arms in front of my face like I had been for the past five minutes, I ran a heavy stop towards it and turn-kicked it, flying it back at Shane, Danny, and Nett's direction. With an ensuring crash, the box flew them back into a pile of junk they were retrieving their throw-weapons from.
Luckily they seemed fine. Nett shot his head up, half his body covered by lab equipment. "That, was totally wicked," he said before having his head fall back.
"Geez Manson, you had to hit us back that hard?" Shane glared, trying to sit back up. Danny meanwhile flew back down, having avoided the whole crash.
I was breathing heavily, my hands on my knees with my back bent over a little. "What can I say? I got ticked off."
"But you deflected it, didn't you," Danny pointed out. And here dawns my self-realization slash purpose of stupid exercise. I hate it when Danny's pointless seeming tests in the end actually have a point. "Attacks come at you and all you usually think of is making sure that you're not hit. That you're not hurt. It's hard to believe, but the mind when in danger rarely thinks of harming the enemy - even if you pre-plan things. So, if you learn to focus more on deflection rather than protection, your shields should become reflective soon enough."
"So, that's it?"
"No. Now you make the shield."
"Hey hey hold up," Nett barked, still stuck in the pile. He looked too Danny. "So you knew that we were gonna get hit anyway?"
"Aw well that's just mean," Nett glared as Shane exhaled.
Within a minute, Shane and Nett were once again standing safely aside, Danny and I situated in the center of the cleared lab. I was currently in my ghost mode, holding a battle stance across my mentor. His gloved fingers moved, eager to surprise me with an attack. I was just as eager, ready to take it on.
Just think, Wendy. Deflect it. Don't just block it.
Danny then with sudden speed shot one of his ghost rays at me. Holding my hands up, I went to create my shield. But instead Danny's attack exploded in my face. My shield disappeared and I skidded about three feet on the ground just barely standing.
"Again!" he yelled, firing an attack on me before I could even recuperate. Last minute, I held up the attack to block it, forgetting my motive to deflect. Attack after attack, broken shield after broken shield, I was beginning to get Danny's point. When you're in the midst of a battle, you're thinking more of keeping yourself alive than getting the enemy - especially in the middle of a series of attacks like this.
By the tenth round, I was exhausted. Danny knew that. I was on all fours by the time my ghost form reverted back. Human once more, I collapsed on the ground. In between my breathing, I could hear he guys running right over and Danny flying. Soon enough I was surrounded.
"Geez Danny, harsh much?" Nett questioned.
"I'm fine," I defended. It's good that my training went up a bit on the 'harsh' level. "I doubt my enemies will be any easier, so I need to get used to harsher training like this."
"Yeah but not while you're sick," Nett argued.
"You're sick?" Danny asked instantly, his serious demeanor suddenly turning concerned.
"I'm not sick," I repeated, more firmly. But as if to contradict myself, I began coughing again. Danny helped me sit up as I held my arm over my mouth, My throat burned. My lungs felt overworked. I don't have coughing fits often, but when I do they're for a little while and it causes a big scene if I don't keep it down.
"She's been doing this all day," Shane mentioned to Danny quietly.
I pat my chest hard a little while Danny soothingly rubbed my back. "Let's try and do some more deflective-training, just to make sure I got it," I plead.
"I don't think so," Danny ordered, holding my shoulder to keep me from standing. "If you were sick you could've told me before."
"I said I'm not sick," I clarified.
"You're sick," all three said against me.
"Just try and practice more on your inner focus instead," Danny advised, placing a hand over my head as if to ease my pain.
"And just how am I supposed to do that?"
"Meditate," Shane suggested. "Of course, you and your rambunctious self wouldn't happen to know how to do that now would you."
With a growl I went to try and jump up to punch him, but my tiredness and Danny and Nett held me down.
"You should just go home, Wen. You'll get better quicker that way," Nett argued.
I scoffed. I never believed people could get better just by laying on their backs all day. "Ha. Or you'll do what?"
"Yup, it's a fever," Mom said, looking at a thermometer while holding a hand to my forehead. To this I blame Nett. Apparently after I asked 'what'll you do?', he wound up bagging and gagging me (courtesy of Danny) and calling my mother. They carried me home unconscious, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up to my mom sticking something down my throat to get my temperature.
"What do you mean a fever?" I scoffed a little too defensively in bed, but my coughing resumed.
"But are you alright? How long have you been coughing?" Mom asked me. "The guys say you've been coughing in school for a while."
I cleared my throat a bit. "I've been coughing since Wednesday, but I thought it would've gone away by now."
"Apparently it hasn't. You're staying home from school tomorrow okay?"
"What?" Staying from school I'm cool with, but staying from school meant staying from training with Danny's, too. "But I can't. I too much important stuff to do tomorrow."
"Health first," she affirmed. And just like that, there was nothing else I could do. The next day I obeyed her and stayed in bed, skipping the school day. I was stubbornly suppressed by my needless coughing and now congested nose. By the afternoon, I had a trashcan filled with used tissues and a tissue box nearly empty on my bed.
"Pftfptppfhpfhftfhth!" I blew my nose, getting a rather disgusting result with which I made a face at before throwing it into the trash. "Oh my gosh I hate being sick!" I screamed as I fell back into bed. My yell must have echoed throughout the entire house hold ten fold. It goes without saying that Mom must have heard me.
After about three more seconds of self-mourning boredom, I got up out of bed for the first time today. I lost my appetite so I didn't eat much for breakfast, thus my lack of trips to the bathroom as a result. I felt a bit light-headed as my legs were working for the first time today, but I forced myself over to my closet. I knelt down and began to dig through its bottom contents. "There has to be something in here I can use to pass the time."
I dug through unfolded-clothes, video games, and other junk I've stashed away in my closet over the years. Miraculously enough, however, I came across a cardboard box way into the back of the tiny closet. It was taped shut with a cardboard lid, labeled in dark purple marker SAM'S STUFF.
"Mom's?" I said aloud, finding myself pulling the box out. I looked back for a quick sec to check if the door was closed before deciding to open it. I was honestly quite curious as to what I could find. Mom was a fairly interesting person, and I've never noticed this in my closet before. (But that's what I get I suppose for never really going into my closet before).
I blew a small layer of dust off its surface, realizing too much duct tape was sealing it. A pair of scissors were luckily placed near by, and I began my way opening it.
"This used to be Mom's room, so this must some of her old stuff," I said to myself as I cut the lid open. I set the scissors down as I flipped open the lid of the box. At first I thought it was some of her old clothes or something, but much to my surprise it, actually wasn't. I guess for a one-word definition it was more rather junk. But the good kind of junk. My kind. Everything inside looked so interesting.
I pried my hands inside, looking through the box's limited contents. Aside from the occasional girls' momento or baseball, most of the things inside were books. "Guide to Professional Gothic Fashion? 101 Gothic Poems for the Soul? Beauty Within the Black Rose?" My head shot up with a bewildered look and I blinked twice. "Mom was a goth?" I spoke aloud in disbelief. No way! It's funny to think at the moment how teens have all these labels. Like us: Nett the Techno-Geek. Shane the Cool-Guy. Wendy the Skater.
Sam the Goth?
Insert self-made image of Mom as a goth. "...Freaky," I shuddered to myself as I set some of the books back inside the box. But before I could decide to tuck the box back into the closet, I noticed one of the untouched books, the one all the way at the bottom of the box. I reached for it and pull it out. It was an old, hardcover book. Something about weird historic and paranormal things in our miraculous little world. A small content smile crept onto my face. "This should make my time pass by smoothly."
Taking the book and skimming through it's thick dusty pages, I made my way back to my bed and jumped right in. I was fully prepared to start reading right from beginning to end, which would hopefully take up all day to keep me busy as I 'rested', until one later page made me stop. "Ghost related," I realized. "Cursed Amulet of Aragon..."
"Soda, Tuck?" Sam asked, reaching into her fridge.
"Oh God yes please," Tucker practically begged. The two adults were actually downstairs underneath my room, sitting in our kitchen. "Nett's been raiding our fridge all week with his sick obsession with soda. Each time I restock it's all gone!"
Sam chucked to herself a bit. "Don't sound like you've never done that before. When we were teens you used to inhale everything unhealthy."
"Point taken," Tucker admitted as he caught one soda can chucked at him. The sound of the soda's sizzle came through the air as he opened the tab. "So, you're taking the day off to watch Wendy?"
"Sort of. She's one of the reasons I'm staying home."
"And the other?" Tucker asked curiously.
"I've been a little distracted lately at work," Sam admitted, taking her seat with a very distressed look about her. "I've been thinking about... Mm."
"Danny?" Tucker finished, only to be given a strict but eventually looser stare from Sam. He knew very well how touch a subject their missing third friend was for her. Just saying his name was hard enough for Sam.
"Yeah..." Sam admitted with a sigh. "I mean, Wendy's getting older now. She's not a little kid anymore. She has questions, Tucker, about her father. What am I supposed to tell her?"
"You could tell her the truth."
"What truth? What could I possible tell Wendy about him that won't freak her out?" Sam almost panicked.
"That's what I've always intended on doing," she said unsure. "But now I'm having second thoughts. Wendy first asked about her dad when she was five and all I could manage to tell her was that he died. Never why. Never how. And she never brought it up again. But, now a days I'm getting the feeling that she wants to know why and how. But she won't ask because well, who knows?"
"Remember the last time you and I talked about this?" Tucker asked. "About what you would tell her when she got older?"
"Yeah. I thought that after a few years I'd be able to come up with some fantastic and realistic lie I could tell Wendy. But here I am, sitting in the same chair nine years later with you, and I still can't think of anything to tell her!"
"I said it before and I'll say it again: You. could. tell. her. the. truth?"
"Tucker you know why I can't do that." The door bell rang, breaking the tension-filled air around the kitchen. "I'll get it," Sam said. She walked over to the door near the kitchen as Tucker looked on from the table. At the door step stood Shane and Nett, carrying their school bags and books and all. "Ah, it's you guys."
"Yo Mrs. Manson," Nett said with a quick salute. Shane stood stoically beside him, holding a few extra books; my books. "We came to drop off some homework for our fallen comrade. Permission to visit?"
"Permission granted," Sam laughed, letting the two boys in.
"Hey Dad," Nett greeted before he and Shane went up the stairs.
"Hi kids," Tucker waved as Sam returned. "On a brighter note those three seem to be getting along swimmingly."
"Yeah. They are," Sam smiled, looking at the empty stair case from her kitchen table.
"Kind of reminds you of the glory days doesn't it? Me, you, him."
"Yeah..." Sam frowned sadly.
"Knock knock," Nett aid in a chipper voice as he bombarded my room with Shane. However opening the door, the two found me and Skulker, standing in the middle of my bedroom.
There was a quiet moment of silence between the four of us starring at each other.
Nett was just about ready to throw a panicking fit before Shane dropped the books he was holding to cover Nett's mouth with both hands. Shane then shut the door with his foot to ensure the two downstairs wouldn't hear.
"Nett please calm down," I urged, trying to lower his voice.
Nett eventually broke free of Shane's desperate and silent hold. "How can I be calm? There's a ghost mercenary standing on your bedroom rug!" he yelled in a harsh whisper.
"Geez he's not hunting me all the time you know," I scoffed. "And for your information he was merely running an errand for me."
"Running an errand?" both Shane and Nett repeated before looking to Skulker with the same confused look.
"Delivery," Skulker frowned in correction. For some reason he didn't quite like the term 'running an errand'. He held out a ghost-like package in front of me. "I hope you know how much trouble it took for me to get this."
"Thanks, Skulker," I grinned as I took the package. And with that, Skulker flew intangible and went away like he was never here. With that done, I turned to the guys. "Now, what business do you two have in my humble and ill abode?"
"Um, we came to drop off your homework..." Shane started unsure, referring to the books he dropped at my door. "But at the moment we're a little more concerned about Skulker." Short pause. "Why were you with Skukler?"
I laughed a little, sounding kind of congested meanwhile. "During school hours, I got real bored just resting in bed, and I found this cool book about weird stuff."
"Of course you did," Shane frowned.
Ignoring that. "Anyway, I came across this section in it on something called the Cursed Amulet of Aragon."
For a moment, Nett looked at me, then at the box I was holding. Then at me. Then at the box again. Then back at me. "Please don't tell me you sent for Skukler to retrieve for you a CURSED amulet."
"No listen! It said, and I quote: 'Medieval ghostly legend held that the cursed Amulet of Aragon could transform anyone into dragon form under states of extreme emotional duress or anger.' I thought that maybe if I use it, it can be a form of training for my 'inner focus' or whatever."
"... Okay I'm the smart one, and even I don't get how that works," Nett said with a distorted face.
"Remember yesterday how you guys physically threw stuff at me so Danny could get me to focus on deflecting? Well, maybe wearing this, I can try to practice by suppressing emotions, which is another form of controlling my 'inner focus'."
"You wanna risk possibly turning into a dragon to control your emotions." Nett reworded.
"I'm in," Nett said instantly, tossing his school stuff aside.
Shane however remained skeptic. "I dunno. I mean, it's a cursed amulet of Aragon. Don't you think using it it in any shape or form is kind of risky?"
"Hey you guys are the ones who called my mom and put me under house arrest for being sick. I need to keep training every day and so far, this is pretty much all I can do," I explained as I opened Skulker's package. The three of us peered inside and found a glowing trinket in it. A golden amulet with a green gem in the center. I picked it up from out of the box and watched it glimmer in the light. It felt cold, sending ghostly shivers down my arm. Well what else would you expect from ghost zone jewelry?
"Bling bling," Nett said with risin eyebrows. "That actually looks pretty cool."
"Pretty creepy if you ask me," Shane said, still playing the safe responsible role.
"And heavy," I added as I put on, attaching the clip on the back of my neck. It felt chilling on my skin. Powerful, yet deadly. I could sense it attaching itself to my emotions.
"So this is the book you found," Nett said as he retrieved it from my bed. It was already open to the page on the cursed amulet. He read on before looking up at me half way. "So for practice you want to try and suppress your temper. Basically we just have to try and make you angry. Sounds easy enough we have Shane for that."
"I'm telling you this is a bad idea," Shane warned again. "I mean this is Manson for heaven's sake controlling emotions? She can't even control her B average in Physics class."
"Hey this is only dangerous if I'm alone. The book said that the subject can only turn into a dragon if they're wearing the amulet. If for some reason I loose my temper, then you guys can just remove the amulet before I turn and then we'll never try it again."
"See we're good," Nett said to Shane.
The teen hesitantly gave out a sigh of defeat. I could tell he really didn't want to do this, but I just had to. "Alright. Fine. So I just have to make you angry right?"
"You're a horrible soccer athlete."
"You're a high school womanizing player."
"You have no curves."
"You have legs like a girl."
"You dress like a man."
"Your taste in music is horrible."
"Aw that's funny because I thought we liked the same stuff."
"Well you have horrible taste in girls."
"I bet you don't shave your legs."
"I hope you go bald."
"Okay okay okay! that's enough" Nett screamed. Shane and I nonchalantly turned out heads to Nett. "What the heck are you two doing? Shane you're not even making her angry! You guys are just exchanging witty banter! Witty banter that sounds so extremely pointless and stupid!"
"Like this exercise?" Shane added.
"Agh, this is harder than I thought," I groaned. "Maybe I'm just that good at suppressing my anger?"
"Yeah that or you're so used to arguing with lover boy over here that you just don't get angry anymore," Nett commented close to my face before being pulled back by Shane.
"Wendy's turning fifteen soon, you know," we heard from downstairs. The three of us suddenly went quiet, as if to automatically listen in. "She's going to find out on her own one way or another, regaurdless of whether you tell her or not."
"What's going on?" I whispered.
"Your mom and my dad were talking downstairs when we came in," Nett mentioned. "They must be talking about you."
I gave signals for us to quietly make our way to the door to listen against it, and we all gave simultaneous nods. We crawled to my door and placed our heads against the door, focusing in on my mom's voice. Mom and Tucker? Talking about me? What could they possibly be talking about? Are they keeping something from me?
"So what are you going to do?"
"Just keep stalling I guess. Waiting. Hoping she doesn't ask questions."
"And when she does? What lies are you gonna tell her? Or what won't you tell her?"
"I don't know Tucker that's why I'm asking for your help."
"No Sam I can't tell you the right thing to do with this! Wendy is your daughter, Sam. The most you can tell her is that her father didn't just die by accident. She deserves to know at least that." What...? Dad? My dad?
"And what good would it do her if she knew that."
"You'd be protecting her from the same thing that killed her father."
I couldn't listen anymore, so my head instantly retracted from the door as I moved back, my eyes unblinking. My dad died. I know that. But what the heck are they talking about? That he didn't die by accident? Was he killed? And what are they talking about with protecting me from the same thing that killed him. How did Dad die? Why did he die? I've always had these questions deep inside but I never really thought they were all that important. But now... are they?
"Manson?" Shane asked warily. I realized both boys were looking at me from the door, all of us sitting. My legs and arms trembling as they supported me.
"Has Mom been lying to me all this time...?" I asked myself, unable to stop shaking. "What isn't she telling me? Who is my dad anyway why is she talking about this now?"
"Wendy? Wendy calm down," Nett started, walking towards me on his knees with his hands protectively out in front of him. I didn't notice, but the green amulet was glowing. Shane and Nett could see that. And Nett was fully prepared to pull the amulet right off but was sort of hesitant. Afraid. "Wendy?"
"She's hiding something..." I said, suddenly feeling very longing for my father. A tear unwillingly escaped my eye and suddenly my mind blanked out.
Meanwhile with Shane and Nett, they were too late. My eyes turned red wih slits and my skin turned blue. My scared and fragile demeanor disappeared, replaced with one of rage, instilling fear into that of Nett's and Shane's. Both boys backed up into the door as they watched me glow and take the form of a giant ghost dragon. Blue and green transparent scales all over, no sign of the old me anywhere except for the Cursed Amulet of Aragon.
"Oh my God," Nett starred. "She's a dragon?"
"She's a dragon," Shane said in the same scared manner.
Suddenly, the dragon before them turned intangible and flew out of the room. Out of the house. Probably off flying somewhere. Me flying off somewhere. Shane and Nett just sat there, starring in the same direction with late reaction.
"... I think I just peed myself," Nett said lost.
"Folly she just flew out there as a dragon. In public! We have to go after her," Shane said, forcing himself up.
"What?" Nett grasped. "What- Are you kidding me? You want us to go after that?"
"No one else will," Shane said, taking the book from my bed and reaching under my bed for some of my hidden ghost equipment stashed away in a convenient knapsack. Suddenly, both heard a dragon roar from the city. Both knew what that was. "Like I said we really gotta go."