CHAPTER TEN

When Melissa finally woke up, she was calmer. She was still freaked out that she'd almost lost Arnie, but it helped knowing that he was, in fact, alive and well.

Arnie insisted on walking her home. It wasn't a long walk, but she was grateful for the company. They walked in comfortable silence as Melissa held his hand, reassuring herself that he was still there and everything was alright.

When they reached her house, she gave him a quick kiss before rushing upstairs. Thankfully, her aunt and uncle had gone out to dinner. She wasn't up to dealing with either one of them.

Melissa sat on her bed and pulled out her journal. The trauma of watching Arnie's throat get cut had made her mind start to recover her lost memories, and she didn't want to forget them again. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should be doing this. 

It wasn't entirely unusual for Melissa to write down whatever popped into her head in her journal, but for the last few days, she hadn't. The revelation that she was destined to help save the world with the rest of the Silver Society had left her unsure of what to write. After all, superheroes needed to keep things secret, right?

After thinking about it for a bit, Melissa decided she needed to write just to clear her mind a bit. There were too many thoughts swirling around in her head and she needed to sort them out. Besides, she was finally remembering the night she'd met Arnie in more detail, and that was a night she never wanted to forget. If she wrote it all down, it would remain forever. Maybe, if she was lucky, he would remain forever, too.

She titled her journal entry, just as she always did, and began to write.

THE BOY AT THE WATERFRONT

I saw him sitting on the wall, watching the water and smoking a joint. I'd seen him before. He spent a lot of nights there, but he didn't usually have any sort of drugs with him. I'd always thought he was beautiful. Literally, when I looked at him, I saw something words could never describe. That night, he looked particularly adorable, but beneath it all, I saw pain. This boy was broken in ways I might never understand, and I wanted to know what might make a boy with such obvious light inside of him look so sad.

I knew I had to approach him. His hair was messy but well-managed. I wanted to run my fingers through it. I think I was already crushing pretty hard. Instead of playing with that beautiful hair like a weirdo, I just sat down beside him casually.

"Mind if I take a hit?" I asked because I couldn't think of anything else to say. I have smoked before, but not often. Drugs aren't really my thing. It's nice to escape every once in a while, but I don't like the complete loss of control. That part scares me, but I felt safe with him.

He shrugged and passed the joint to me. I took a hit. We passed it back and forth in silence for a bit before it started to kick in.

"You're beautiful when you're sad," I told him. "You're actually beautiful all the time, but there's something stronger when you're upset."

That's a really weird thing to say, but we were high, and it didn't seem weird at the time. It was simply the truth. He was so beautiful, almost ethereal in a way, and I needed him to know that.

"Who says I'm upset?" He asked. That was the first thing he ever said to me. I loved his voice. I loved everything about him.

"Your eyes are screaming it," I told him. "Come on, Handsome, what's wrong?"

"Which one is it? Am I beautiful or handsome? And which is better? I'd like to be whichever one is better." He laughed. I fell in love, right there, just hearing that sound.

"You're both. You're strong and handsome, but you're also beautiful and broken," I informed him in all of my stoned wisdom.

"Everyone's a little bit broken," he replied.

"What broke you?" I asked him. My curiosity was killing me. I didn't like seeing him so sad. I was determined to help.

"Life, I guess," he replied with a shrug.

I related. Life broke me long ago.

"Fair enough," I said. "I'm broken, too, you know. Let's be broken together. Maybe if we each combine the halves that haven't broken yet, we can make up one whole person!"

"I'd like that... I'd like to be whole," he said softly. His pain was practically radiating off of him.

I kissed him then, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Even now, I have no regrets.

That, of course, was when the evil weirdos decided to attack us. It was like, "Thanks for letting me get a kiss in, but couldn't you have waited a little bit longer?" Anyway, my beautiful boy and I were very out of it. To his credit, he tried to react. He wanted to fight and protect us. The thing is, when he tried to stand up, he fell back down and I caught him, and we started giggling again.

It got bad pretty quickly. We couldn't stop laughing. Being with him made me giddy. I think even if there hadn't been drugs involved, I'd have been a little bit silly and useless. He kissed me just because my lips were close to his.

"We'll be broken together," he said. I nodded. It was settled.

That's when Alex showed up, saved our butts, and somehow convinced us to go with him. He brought us to his house and the two of us curled up in bed together and passed out in each other's arms.

It was romantic in a very unromantic way. It was perfect for two imperfect people. I want to remember it always. I want to remember HIM. I don't want to ever let him go.

Arnie. The boy on the waterfront. The adorable nerd who calls me "Missa," which is a little weird, but I like it when he says it. I like that he took the time to give me a nickname that no one else uses. It's not Missy or Miss or Mel or any of that... It's MISSA. It's unique. It's sweet, and it makes me feel all warm and gooey inside every time he says it.

This is the guy I want to be broken with. His pieces and my pieces might just make one hell of a person someday.

For now, that's all I've got.

~Melissa

She smiled down at her journal before closing it over and clutching it to her chest. That precious memory was immortalized now, and she'd never need to worry about forgetting it again.

~*~

Although she should be doing her homework, Cierra was busy working furiously to find out anything she could about the tomb. Her homework would have to wait a little while, but she'd make sure to get it done. She never missed an assignment, but the tomb needed to take priority.

Cierra knew she'd read about the tomb before, but had no idea where she'd seen it. Being clairvoyant was frustrating at times. Something had made her start searching through her many books and files for two days before anyone had even mentioned the tomb. Cierra hadn't known what she was looking for, but she'd known it was important. The Universe was practically screaming at her to find whatever it was. Now, at least, she had a better idea of what she was supposed to find.

"Cierra? Dinner's ready, sweetheart," Tyler Denton said. Tyler was Cierra's stepfather, but he was the only father she'd ever known, and she always called him "Dad."

"I'll be down in a minute, Dad," Cierra replied. She sighed and took a break from the books she'd been obsessing over. When she got downstairs, Tyler was already putting food on her plate. Cierra's half-sister, Terri, was eagerly waiting for dinner.

"Cierra, guess what!" Terri said with all the importance that this matter deserved in her six-year-old mind.

"What is it, baby?" Cierra asked.

"I got a one-hundred on my spelling test!"

"Well, congratulations, my little genius!" Cierra replied, giving Terri a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"So am I," Tyler said, finally sitting down. "That's definitely going up on the fridge."

"You ordered pizza?" Cierra asked, seeing the food before her.

"I didn't have time to cook tonight," Tyler replied.

"Dad, are you okay?" Cierra asked in concern.

"Of course I am, honey."

"Terri, why don't you go get Mr. Pig and bring him down for dinner?" Cierra asked.

"Yay! He'll be so happy, Cici," Terri replied, excited at the idea of bringing her favorite stuffed animal to dinner. She ran off to fetch him.

"I know how you get on her birthday. Are you sure you're okay?" Cierra asked Tyler.

"I miss her, and I guess birthdays just make me remember that. What about you, honey? How are you holding up?"

"I miss Mom, too, but I know she'd hate for me to get down about it," Cierra replied. "I still have you, and I have my wonderful, adorable little sister. I know Mom would want me to let go of the loss and just be glad that I still have a family."

"Terri's asking about her more often. It's innocent now, but when she gets older..." Tyler sighed. "When Terri wants to see your mom's grave and she sees her own birthday on the headstone... How am I supposed to handle that? I can't tell her what happened. It would break her heart."

"Don't worry, Dad," Cierra said soothingly. "Terri's still just a kid, and right now, she isn't asking, right? I'm sure you have time to figure out what to tell her."

"You're right... You know, Cierra, you look more like her every day. Your mom was darker, but she had your eyes and your smile... Terri has that smile, too."

"She's got your eyes, though," Cierra said. "Always mischievous and ready to play."

Tyler laughed. "Is that what you think of me?"

"Look in the mirror sometime, Dad. You have faerie eyes."

"I guess I used to be pretty mischievous, in my day. I'm too old to be mischievous now, though."

"You are not old. You'll be old in twenty years."

"You're not a normal teenager, you know that, Cierra? Most sixteen-year-old girls think thirty is old, let alone forty-three."

Terri returned, clutching her prized pink pig to her chest. "Mr. Pig loves pizza," she said.

"I bet he does!" Cierra said indulgently.

"Can you play with us after dinner?"

Cierra sighed. Taking a break from searching for information on the tomb might give her the perspective she needed to remember where she'd seen it, and it would be nice to give her eyes a bit of a rest. "Sure, sweetie," Cierra replied. "I'd love to."

"Yay!" Terri cheered. Cierra smiled at her. She adored her baby sister, and was just as worried as Tyler about how this happy little girl might react to finding out that the cause of her mother's death was her birth. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She would worry about that when the time came, but for now, she had more pressing things to think about.

~*~

The next morning, Cierra awoke feeling rested. After getting ready for a new day, she went back to her books with a fresh mind. It was only ten minutes before she found a passage in Latin that mentioned what translated to the tomb where the angels go to die.

Although she was fluent in Latin, the rest of the page was written in Sanskrit, and Cierra was still trying to master that language. Still, the Latin had been enough to tell her that she was on the right path.

"Oh my God," Cierra whispered. She was both relieved and nervous to finally have a solid lead in front of her. She called Alex and Spencer and told them to come over right away.

Within a half an hour, Spencer and Alex were both sitting in her bedroom trying to decipher the prophecy. "I've got it!" Spencer said suddenly.

"What does it say?" Alex asked. His grasp on Sanskrit made Cierra look like an expert.

"It says, 'When the key is found, it shall unlock the tomb where the angels go to die. The tomb holds the energies of nine thousand demons. When they are released, the end will come to be.'" Spencer paused before saying, "Oh no..."

"The apocalypse," Alex said with a sigh. "Isn't that always the way? 'Stop this evil or the world will end.' Can't they ever think of anything new?"

"How bad is this, Alex? Do you really think it's the apocalypse this time?" Cierra asked. Her heart was racing in her chest. They'd stopped a few minor potentially apocalyptic events before, but this time, it felt different somehow. She didn't have to be clairvoyant to sense how dangerous this actually was.

"Unfortunately, all signs are pointing that way," Alex admitted. "I think it's time for another meeting."