Fancy Fantasy part 10

Guys descriptions: *Marcus* sexy dark brown hair with puppy dog brown eyes, very well built, nicely tan, funny and relaxed *Jake* nerdy, short brown hair with clear light brown eyes, slight but strong build, slightly tan, very smart, makes you laugh and feel safe and special *Taylor* emo is the one word that describes him, black hair that goes just past his coal-colored eyes, well built, pale *Bobby* sexy dirty blonde hair with glassy blue eyes, bad boy, chillax, very muscular but lean build, tan

Guys powers: *Marcus* persuasion *Jake* learn by osmosis *Taylor* teleportation *Bobby* talk to people in their heads *all guys* very skilled in self defense

Created by: Twisted_Roots
  1. Recap: There's a possibility Marcus could go blind."
  2. I felt my jaw come unhinged. Blind? But it's only a possibility... right? "We won't know for sure until he wakes up, but until then, all we can do is hope and pray." I nod my head numbly. Taylor's words keep echoing in my head: "Marcus could go blind... blind... blind." The words have so much impact. Marcus, my friend, could lose his ability of sight completely. I looked at Taylor. "Is there ANYTHING you can do? At all? Even if it's a long shot, please, we have to try!" Taylor shook his head sympathetically. "I'm so sorry. There's nothing I can do." His face was veiled in failure as he pushed up from his chair and jogged up the stairs. I remain at the table. Surely I can do SOMETHING! I was so deep in thought I didn't even notice when D walked in. He sat in the seat Taylor had recently vacated and stared at me until I looked up at him. "What?" I growled. "I'm sorry." He said. I think that's the first time I've heard him speak. His voice is deep and thick, and it kinda reminds me of chocolate. "I know this isn't the best time, but I figured you would like to know a little about Kara and I." I nod my head and he clears his throat to begin.
  3. **DESIMUS' POV, 4 YEARS AGO** I heaved the last box from my truck and jogged up the path to our dark front door, nudging it open with my foot. I walked down the hallway and gently set it down in my mothers' room. She was laying in her bed, fast asleep. Her lamp was casting a soft glow across her, accentuating the frail features of her face. Her breathing is shallow. Her lips are pale. Her cheeks are taunt. I sigh. The move took a heavier toll on her unhealthy state then I had accounted for. I bend down and gently place a cautious kiss on her cheek, then stand and continue down the hall to my room. I only had the chance to unpack the mattress, which now laid haphazardly on my floor. I flunk down on it and lace my hands behind my head. They have a better cancer center here than back home. I flip to my side and promptly fall asleep. Before I know it, the sun is shining in my face, acting as a natural alarm clock. I quickly change my shirt from yesterday and hop to the kitchen while pulling up my jeans. I throw the Bisquick pancake stuff in a bowl with some water and eggs and quickly whip it together and toss it on the stove. I gallop to the bathroom and run a brush through my hair, then storm back to the kitchen just in time to take the pancakes off. I drown two in syrup and quickly scarf them down, then lightly sprinkle the other two with powdered sugar, put them on a tray, and rush down the hall to mom's room. I gently push the door open with my free hand and step into the fading darkness. Mom was awake now, sitting up in her bed with her pillows propped behind her back and a book in her hands. "Hey mom." I greet quietly so as not to scare her. She jumps any way. "Oh! Desimus." She smiles. "I brought you breakfast." I say as I lay the tray down in her lap. I turn to go, but she places a hand on my elbow. "Desimus," she begins, "you have stayed so strong for me, and I am eternally grateful. Never forget what I have taught you: treat your wife as well as you have treated me." "I have to find her first, mom." She laughed as she removed her hand from my arm and started to cut her pancakes with her fork. "Have a great day at school, son." I kissed her forehead and jogged out the front door, softly closing and locking it behind me. First day of school, here I come.
  4. **TIME FORWARD. STILL D'S POV** I hop up the steps to my new high school. I don't know anybody, but I'm determined to make friends. As soon as I push through the doors of Lincoln High, I know there's going to be trouble. Why? Because every cheerleader has her slutty eye on me. Great. This is NOT how I wanted to start the year. I duck my head and tug my hood over it. There. Some heads turned away. As soon as I pass their group I toss my hood back and start searching for a group of decent looking guys. After a few minutes of pointless wandering, a guy dressed in a football jersey and jeans jogs up to me and holds out his hand for me to shake. I take it eagerly. "Hey! I'm Shawn. Captain of the Lincoln football team." He smiles one of those smiles that makes your stomach churn it's so perfect. "Play any ball?" He asks. I shake my head. "Not anymore." He pouts like a little girl. "Aw! Why not?" "Shoulder injury." I reply. His eyes bug out of his head. "Were you the quarterback?!" I nod my head, evoking Shawn to throw his arms around me in a bro hug. "Dude! Welcome to Lincoln High! What's your name?" Jeez he's acting like I'm a celebrity or something. "Desimus." I reply. His jaw drops. "Dude. That's a great name! Can we just call you D?" I thought for a second. D. Doesn't sound too bad. I nod. He fist pumps the air. "All right!" The rest of the football team surrounds and bombards me with questions. "Boys!" A warm, feminine voice scolds. "It's the poor guys first day and you're already crushing him." She chastises. The football team slowly parts, except Shawn, who wraps the girl in a hug tighter than a burrito. I still can't see her, but I can tell she doesn't like it. "Shawn. Put me down. Now." Her voice sounds dark and menacing and... frankly just down right terrifying. Shawn hesitates for a moment, then cautiously places her safely on the ground, her back to me. She straightens out her lime green shirt, then turns to face me. She's saying something, introducing herself I think, but I'm to captivated to pay any attention. Her light brown hair falls softly at her shoulders, the highlights shimmering in the light. Her blue-grey eyes gaze at me from behind an interesting pair of black glasses, and her radiant grin reveals flawless teeth. Shawn anchors his arm around her waist, snapping me out of my day dream. "This here is Desimus, but we just call him D." she glared up at Shawn and, if looks could kill, this kid would be dead long ago. He doesn't seem to notice though as he continues to grin pridefully at me. This could get interesting. The girl grabs Shawn's wrist and in the blink of an eye has his arm behind his back. She jerks it up and he cries out in pain, begging for mercy. She keeps a tight hold on his wrist. "Apologize." She demands. When he says nothing, she yanks upwards again. "Ok! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't touch you again!" The girl releases his arm and walks over to me, hand extended. I shake it warily. "Hey. I'm Kara. See you around!" Kara drops my hand and walks away, like a boss, over to a group of giggling girls. They envelope her in the middle of the circle and walk away, whispering and laughing. Shawn approaches me, rubbing his shoulder. "Feisty, isn't she? Yup. That's why I like her. Unique and interesting." I nod my head. Interesting indeed.
  5. **YOUR POV, NOW** "After that, we just kinda hung out together, and for the next four years, to this day, we're inseparable." D finished with a grin on his face. I smile. That's so sweet! "What happened to your mom?" I blurt, instantly regretting it as I shadow passes over his face. "The cancer took her a week after Kara and I graduated a few months ago." His smile's sad. "She really liked Kara. And I know Kara loved her as much as I did." A tear slips from his eye as he pushes back from the table and exits the room. I sigh. Me and my big mouth. At least I know their story now. I push up from the table in search of Jake. I want him to train me some more, but after what happened last time, he might be a little reluctant. Thankfully he isn't as hard to find as last time. I push open his door to find him seated in a dark blue mushroom chair. He slams his book shut and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Hey _____!" he lunges off the chair and strides up to me. Huh. His mouth is even with my eyes. "What brings you to my domain?" I tilt my head up slightly to make eye contact so he can see I'm serious. "I want to work on my power." The color instantly makes a running retreat from his face. He is silent. "Jake I'm fine and I swear I'll be more careful. Really." His light brown eyes stare deeply into mine, like he's trying to see inside my head. Finally he lets out a breath. "Fine. But you have to PROMISE me you're fine and that I can stand right by you in case something happens." I nod. "Deal."
  6. We approach the tree that I killed last time. You know, the one that nearly killed me in return? Yeah. That one. I remember what Jake said about bringing it back to life from the first lesson with the dandelion. "˜Concentrate on making the dandelion breathe in the water vapor, sunlight, and carbon dioxide around it, as these are what it needs to live.' His voice echoes around in my head. Water vapor, sunlight, and carbon dioxide. I kneel and extend both hands to embrace the rough bark of the fallen tree. Imagining myself as the tree, I dig my roots deep for support and nutrients, reach my leaves high for sunlight, and inhale deeply for carbon dioxide. A living tree. Standing tall. I push that image from my mind to the tree at my hands. My palms burn as the bark from the truck pushes off the ground to stand proud. Leaves pointed to the sky. Roots digging deep into the ground and gripping the soil in their clutches. I open my eyes. Yup. The tree is soaring high into the sky, higher than it was before, taller than any of the surrounding trees. I turn to face Jake a few feet behind me. His jaw is hanging open like a gaping cavern. Chuckling softly, I place my hand on his chin and gently raise his lower jaw to meet his upper, his awe inspired stare never leaving the tree. Slowly, veeeeery slowly, he looks at me. Then to the tree. And back at me. "You... I ... holy... wow!" He runs forward and goes to inspect the tree like a little kid looking at puppies. He excitedly runs his hand over the bark and darts around the tree, over and over again.
  7. I started laughing out loud at how hilarious he looks, when a warm hand settled on my shoulder. I turn. "____," Taylor starts, "Marcus is awake." I nod my head and turn to wave at Jake, but he's still doing his "˜inspection' of the newly resurrected tree. I chuckle under my breathe and gallop into the house, throwing open the door so hard it hit the wall. I don't care. I sprint up the stairs faster than I would if I was being chased by a clown with a bloody knife with cupcakes at the finish line. Reaching the door, I bend down to catch my breath. I really need to work out more. Once I stop heaving like the out of shape person I am, I grip the doorknob, turning it with a shrill shriek. The room is empty, as expected. I walk across to the next door and turn the handle, which opens without so much as a whisper. The room is dark, illuminated only by two dim lamps glowing in the corner. Marcus is sitting in front of the only window in the room. It's open so a gently breeze blows through to caress his face. "M-Marcus?" No reaction. I try again. "Marcus, it's me, _____." This time a whisper replies. "I know." I cautiously approached him from behind and take a seat on the floor next to him, criss cross apple sauce. His eyes are glazed over, but his intense stare remains fixated outside the open window. I slowly entwine my left hand with his right. A soft gasp leaks from his lips. He turns to me, staring straight through me, and pulls me into a tight embrace. I wrap my arms around his neck as he squeezes my waist. After a few seconds, he pulls away and brushes the hair from my face, cupping it tenderly with his hand. "I... I can't see." I cover his hand with my own, stifling a sob.
  8. CLIFFHANGER!!! Haha just kidding :)
  9. **MARCUS' POV** After I had rolled off the bed and smacked into the floor, I realized I could not see. Nothing. My world existed in one color: black. No shadows danced across my eyes when I waved my hand in front of my face. And the back of my head was burning hotter than a fiery inferno in an eternal abyss. I reached for the back of my head and gently felt around. Oh yeah. It's definitely swollen. After thinking what room I was in, I laid out the floor plan in my head and started crawling on all fours. There should be a window right about... here! I felt around the cool glass for a moment and fiddled to get the locks undone. I raised the window all the way up and sat down, the breeze gently stroking my face. _____'s pure and clear laughter floated up from the back yard and tickled my ears. Such a pleasant sound. I "˜looked' down at my hands. She deserves so much better than a blind guy. If I can't take care of myself, how in the world am I going to protect her? She can't like me. She deserves better. As the door whooshed open, a plan began to form in my head. It will break my heart, but I have to do it. She deserves a better guy than me. As she muffled a sob, I let it rip.
  10. **MY POV** "This is all your fault." I gasped. "My fault?!" Marcus snarled menacingly. "If you hadn't have been so STUPID then none of this would have happened!" he roared. Now it's my turn to growl. I opened my mouth but he cut me off. "You're so powerful you think it makes you irresistible and beautiful and will make every boy fall flat on his face in love with you. Well have I got news for you! I. HATE. YOU." he spit out the last three words like a sour lemon. My rage boiled over. "I came up here to help you, but you know what?! You can just wallow in your misery! ALONE!" I fled the room, slamming the door as loudly as possible behind me. I didn't stop running until I was locked safely in my room curled up under the plush covers of my bed. His animosity towards me was as foreign as his bitter words. He was so easy-going! And sweet! He had never raised his voice at me like that. He really does hate me. I sat up. Well fine! He can hate me all he wants! I have more important things to do than get caught up in one guy hating my guts! I have a world to save, for Pete's sake! I melted back into my pillow. But he wasn't just a guy... I... no. I can't say it. Hate and love both have four letters. Who cares about emotions right now. I'll care after I save the whole freaking world.
  11. NOW cliffhanger :) dun dun dun Marcus hates you now. QOD: What do you think of Kara and Desimus?

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