Miles Regalo sat across from the fire, arms dangling on his bent
knees,sun-yellow blonde hair casually slumped over his forehead, and
his focused blue eyes concentrated on the floor. He had just became
fully conscious after being violently awaken from his nightmare (or
'omen' everyone called it) by his father, who had thrown him out of
the house in order to prevent spooking Priscilla. It was harsh,yes, but
necessery for his darling little sister's well being. The omen was
about her after all, and would deeply disturb her if she saw her big
brother kicking and screaming her name. He hated his 'gift'. It was
stupid and more like a curse. It had turned him into a 'blackout freak'
at school and isolated him from his peers. Not one person would
understand the mental imprisoning he had to deal with. It was his
normal to be insane, but his insanity to be normal. Not one person
understood this either. Except for Miranda.
He let her shadow roam around the fire before he actually looked up.
This didn't fully conceal his blushing. He could tell when her upturned
strawberry lips curved into a grin.
"Who are you? A hobo?"
"Nice. I was half expecting you to call me Smokey the Bandit," Miles
"Looking at you in that dusty, gray hoodie, I almost did." Miranda
circled the fire and planted herself next to Miles on the dirt. "Why
are you still here? George said you could come inside."
It amazed Miles when Miranda still called her step-dad George. It
sounded foreign and like she wanted to be alienated from him even
though he married her mother three years ago.
Her mother was pretty, of course, but Miranda had gotten the best
features from both sides. She had the sun-kissed, brown hair and the
minimal cheek and nose bridge freckles from her biological father and
the soft cheekbones and strong jawline of her mother. She was gorgeous.
Every boy at school hit on her at least once, making Miles' vision and
cheeks turn a furious red color.
"It was about Priscilla this time," he mumbled. "It was terrible. I
can't go back inside. If I see her, I'll blackout again."
It was silent before Miranda asked,"Are you gonna sleep out here?"
"I don't see it any other way..."
"Move over," she said decisively."It's nice to sleep under the stars
once in a while."
'It is' Miles thought. He watched her doze off. The grass nearly
highlighted her hair. She was at peace, a state he had hoped she'd be
in forever. A grin dominated his face at the thought.
"Hey, Miles," he heard her voice say.
He pivoted his head on the grass to see that her eyes remained closed.
Miranda extended her arm into her pocket and then to the left to hand
him a folded page."Read it."
Miles read the paper, every word making his insides shudder, and his
heart and race."Where did you find it?"
"Internet," she said sounding gloomier. "Its a publication event. I
can't believe they waited seventeen years to go public."
"It's probably bait," he growled to himself."Another stunt. We can't let
them do this again, I'm not letting anyone else suffer-"
"I'll go with you."
Darn it. She sounded ambitious and whole-hearted. He didn't want her to
get hurt or used especially. He needed her to stay behind, to help his
dad watch over Priscilla and his step-mom, Marie. But there were two
reasons why she would never do that: she was not passive or submissive,
and two, she had a full-on older sibling kind if responsibility for
him. He would have to let her go or let her follow.
Miles sighed in defeat."Don't tell mom or dad. We'll pack heavy tonight
and leave at 2:30 tomorrow," he said, sitting back up again.
Miranda copied and locked her green-eyed gaze on his." Okay. But you
have to promise me that you'll never leave me and that we'll warn the
Miles layed a hand on top of hers and gaped at the stars, hoping that
whatever happened next wasn't going to be a mistake. "I promise."
© Copyright 2016 inlalaland. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Short Story / Humor
Poem / Poetry
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