Your Beatdown

You open your eyes.

The lecture is over. People start packing away their things and walking out. You stare down at your notepad. It’s blank. You’ll have to catch up later, but you can’t help thinking that you could have spent the last two hours in bed. You probably would have made that decision by the time you had reached the front door, if your stupid bracelet hadn’t teleported you, or whatever. This thing was just getting weirder and weirder.

Your friend nudges you, and you stand up to let the rest of them out of your row. While they file past you, saying that they’ll see you tomorrow, you stuff your things back into your bag. One of them asks how the gig went last night. You say it was good, but skim over the details. Like how your back still aches, and how your bracelet is screwing with your life.

As you walk out, you hesitate for a second. You could go home, but you’ve got a few hours to kill. Or, you could go to the library – you can catch up on whatever you missed in the lecture, and also there’s a chance you could look into whatever is going on with your enchanted jewellery. Plus, you literally have nothing to do at home. Jason will just keep being a douche, while Steph and Tommy have gone into town for shopping. You would have gone with them – another thing your newfound mystery has kept you from doing. You suppose that leaves you with no choice – the library it is.

Many hours later, with darkness creeping into the skyline, you walk down the library steps and begin your journey home. You were there a lot longer than you had intended. You managed to catch up with the lecture notes, using power points posted online and a few reference books, but got absolutely nothing towards your other area of research. Internet and book searches drew a blank. Nothing that matched what you were going through, not even close.

You walk out of the campus gates and down the road to your house. A few hundred metres down the road you realise that, because of your unconventional method of travel, your keys are still in your room. The grit your teeth and hope that somebody left the door unlocked. You stop to check your bag, just in case, and your ears pick up. The sound of footsteps, even after you stopped walking. You turn around to look behind you – no one there. It’s rapidly getting dark, so you start walking faster.

A while later you hear it again – the sound of footsteps slightly out of sync with yours. Whoever it is, they are really trying to keep quiet and hide from you, but they can’t be very good at it. You stop again, pretending to check your bag, and you’re certain now. Someone is following you.

A mix of feeling rush through your chest. Fear? Anticipation? Curiosity? All you are sure about is that you want to confront this stalker. You really aren’t in any fit state or mood for a fair fight, but who ever said you had to fight like that?

As you round a corner, you step to the side behind a bush – to whoever is following you, it’ll look like you’ve disappeared. You wait. For some reason, you check the bracelet – still no green orbs. Looks like you wouldn’t be able to make a quick getaway if this goes south, even if you wanted to.

“Ambush much? Guess I shouldn’t have expected a sense of honour – yet.”

You don’t even see who hits you. You feel the staff they’re wielding sweep out your legs and then hit you in the back, and then you’re down on the grass, rolling down a small hill towards the road. Impossibly fast, the person gets there first, slamming his staff down to stop your motion before you roll into traffic. Flat on your back, you look up, but immediately find the end of the staff on your face. Its end glows like your bracelet, but orange.

“Well, putting it simply, you suck. Didn’t even keep a single orb in reserve. Or, could it be, that you don’t even have one yet? Sheesh, talk about a late bloomer. Guess I’ll come back when you might actually stand a chance.”

You close your eyes. 

The End

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