A Diamond Warning

{Before I tell you about my death and strange circumstances around it, I figure you should know a little bit about me. Marlowe Neville's the name and living with an inevitable early death was the game. I'll be sure to tell you more about that later. Now my history of great privage is something I'm sure none of you can relate to. I'm an only child; the only son of a multimillionaire businessman and the most beautiful model crowned Miss. America in 5001.}

{Oh, yeah! That reminds me. If you're reading this you might be a little bit confused. You might be wondering: 5001? Isn't that more than a few centuries in the future?}

{And to you my answer is yes. After I wrote this book about my death and then fresh start at life, I found a way to send it back. Now I can imagine you all asking (or exclaiming in shock): "Why would you send it to the past! Couldn't that mess things up? Cause a time warp or something?" Honestly I don't know much about time travel, but I figured my book would just be seen as fiction. I don't expect any of my readers to think I'm real, thought I promise I'm just as real as anyone (I just haven't been born yet).}

{Okay, time to move on and get past your possible confusion (and no I'm not answering anymore questions... You'll just have to keep reading if you want any explanations).}

{So as I said before, I live in the future. To be exact, this story starts in the year 5049. To be even more exact, it was April 1st, 5049 when I was killed and fell into a place called oblivion.}

{It all started with a nightmare... no it was more like a memory.}

I was sitting at the cold, marble table in my family's kitchen. I remembered my dad was there, which wasn't surprising because he was normally home. To be honest I wasn't even sure if he ever left the house once in the past year. The surprising thing was that my mother was there, which was rare. She was almost never home and claimed she was off on "Modeling Expeditions". I had no idea if those were even a real thing, but she had been away for two year.

It was my thirteenth birthday and I watched as the candles glowed softly in the dim lighting. Our house was always dark and gloomy. I wasn't sure if that was just the way my dad liked it or if he was just too busy to do anything to fix it. We did have many windows in the outer rooms, which included the kitchen, but it was overcast outside. It looked like the sky would split open and the rain would pour down. Maybe the people in the Sewers would drown. The thought had made me sick at the time and I had turned to my mother in the hope that she would comfort me.

"Momma?" I had asked my mother in the squeeky voice of a preteen boy. "Will the Sewer people be okay if it rains too much? They won't drown, will they?"

I remembered my mother's beautiful face frown. Her forest green eyes, the eyes I had gotten from her, narrowed as she glared my dad. "What nonsense have you been teaching our boy?"

Dad barely looked in her direction. "I don't know what you're talking about? Do you really think I have time to teach our boy anything?"

They talked as if I wasn't sitting right across from them. I didn't want them to yell like they always did. Maybe that's why my mother was never home. Maybe she wasn't in love with my dad anymore, if she had ever been in the first place.

I had asked my question to get sympathy and an answer to reassure me, instead I got words I didn't want to hear. "Why do you care about the peasants in the Sewers?" My mother had asked harshly.

"Everything that has happened to them is their own fault. It's what they deserve."

She had caressed my face in a way that had made me more uncomfortable than anything else. "Remember, my boy, to never concern yourself with the problems of inferior people."

I felt she was wrong, but I didn't want to anger her. It was my birthday and I just wanted to eat my cake and open some presents. I nodded my head and we moved on.

My parents sang happy birthday as the flames blew gently under my breath. When my mother finished by herself (my dad had gotten an important business call that couldn't be ignored) I blew out the candles and washed us in the darkness of the house.

I remembered eating the cake. It had tasted dull and stale, like my day had been. I was trying to think of a good birthday I had ever experienced and came up short. It took ten minutes, but I waited at the table for my dad's call to end and my mother to come back. She had left to get my gift.

They both reappeared together; my mother carrying a small, wrapped box and my dad carrying a thick piece of paper. They didn't look like any special presents, but that wasn't anything new. My parents were, and still are, very rich, but they lack the effort when giving a good gift. They thought everything they gave me had to have some special meaning. I was turning thirteen! I just wanted the latest gaming console!

Sighing softly, I took my father's present first. It was a legal document of some sort and it had my name on it. "What is it , dad?" I asked when the paper left me confused.

My dad had smiled at me with shining teeth. "It's my new will. See this here." He pointed to my name and the words behind it. "It says your inheritance." He had smiled down at me. "I'm giving you everything. All my savings, the house, and my company."

His words had left me speechless as the pressure of a deep-sea dive threatened to drown me. The company. The prized possession my dad had spent all his life perfecting. Timeless Teleports was it's name. Holding a monopoly over the teleportation business. I didn't want to do what my father did. I didn't want to spend my life constantly on call.

Instead of expressing my fears, I gave my dad a hug. "Thank you! I'll do my best to run the company when you're gone."

My dad patted my back affectionately . "You'll do great, Marlowe."

"Okay, Okay." My mother had butted in. "That's a very impressive gift, but I've got one to match it."

Her words had left me uneasy. If her present was anything like my dad's it would only give me more to stress about.

My mother's hair had fallen forward as she held out the little box. "Go on." She reassured at my uncertain stare. "Open it."

The paper was smooth against my hands and I took a moment to enjoy the peace it brought me. At the excited look in my mother's eyes, I opened the present. What was inside left me breathless.

A gleaming dagger and belted holster sat in the box. Gripping the leather hilt, I gingerly held the dagger in my hand. It glimmered like diamonds and for all I knew that's what it was really made out of.

"What do you expect him to do with that?" My dad had roared angrily.

My mother yelled defensively back. "It's for protection since you never have the time to actually make sure our son is safe! It's made of diamond so there's no way it will break."

That's when I woke up with their yells echoing in my head.

I jerked upright and looked out towards my dresser where the outline of the dagger, safely in it's belt, sat. I hadn't touched that thing once since my mother had given it to me. It had come from my mother and it just didn't feel right to hold something that left me with a painful reminder. But this time had been different. This day was the day I just couldn't keep my hands off of the dagger. It was like it was calling to me, promising that I would need it soon.

I tried to ignore it as I got out of bed and took a shower. I turned the water heat all the way up in hopes that the heat would burn the dagger out of my mind. It didn't work and when I stood in front of the steamy mirror with nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, the dagger was all I could think of.

I looked at my reflection and remembered what my mother had said about the people in the Sewers. How they deserved what they got. I couldn't believe that. Many had been born into their life and that wasn't their fault.

I ran a hand through my wet hair making it stand up in messy, brown spikes. My dad had bought me numerous hair gels, but they all sat on the sink unopened. I didn't have the patience to style my hair when I would inevitably run my hands through it and mess it up.

I rubbed the shadow of a beard across my jawline and sighed. "Why you?" I questioned the young man in the mirror. "Why were you born with such privilege?"

I never got an answer and after a few minutes I walked back into my room. It was dark, with the curtains drawn closed and shifting slightly on a draft. They looked like a pool of spilled ink, dark and slightly shining as they moved.

I didn't want to go anywhere near the dresser and the dagger that rested on top of it, but I needed to get ready for the day. Hesitantly I went to the dresser and pulled out a forest green shirt and a pair of gray cargo pants. As I pulled my clothes on, the fabric soft against my skin, my eyes wandered over to the dagger.

It glowed slightly in the dim lighting and seemed to speak to me. It warned me that something bad was going to happen; that I would need whatever help I could get. I wasn't sure what to make of the feel of dread in my stomach. It was like a snake was slithering around inside of me and closing in to squeeze my heart as if it where prey.

Knowing I might regret it later, I grabbed the belt and dagger. It fit around my waist as if it were made specifically for me at this exact time. With one last look at my watery reflection in the diamond, I packed my bag and slung it over one shoulder. Wondering if the school would expel me for having a weapon, I walked out of the room to continue the last day of my life.