Crimson Eyes

July 23, 2008, 10:14 PM

I know I have quite a few stories going on at the moment, but this is my latest creation that I've been working on lately. However, it's purely original and has no FFF personalities whatsoever. I wanted to try something original in the meantime. So I hope everyone likes this.

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Crimson Eyes

There were three negative things that I couldn’t push out of my mind.

One, I was adopted.

Two, I had strange powers – which caused my eyes to turn a crimson colour to my discomfort – and automatically freaked me out.

And three, there was the possibility that I might not be human at all.

When Faith Crest turns fourteen years old, everything changes. She’s thrown into a world that she cannot escape so easily – hearing other people’s thoughts, dark revelations and a secret agency wanting her.

But for Faith, there really is no turning back now …

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Prologue

I had always wondered how my life would end, but I never thought that it would come to this.

Staring into the cold blue piercing eyes of the man standing across the room from me, I readied myself for what was about to come. In my mind, I’d already accepted death.

Fear hadn’t quite struck me yet, but I longed to feel free from life itself.

I took one last look into his eyes and prepared myself for what was about to come …

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Chapter One

Ordinary

There was something inside of me that urged for one particular question: how could my life become such a misery? But there was no answer I could offer. However, at least I have a story no one’s told.

My name is Faith Crest. I used to get told that it was a strange name.

That was when I lived in Cardiff, which was only two days ago. Now I was moving to the small town of Evanton. It was a time for new beginnings.

Evanton was a small town in the far north of England and only a half hour drive from the Lake District. According to my dad, it was ideal for a family like us.

As for my family, there were only four of us.

My dad, Pablo Crest, was a chef. He owned several restaurants in Cardiff. I’d always admired his enthusiasm for cooking. He was tall, had short black hair, brown eyes and of course, was Spanish. Pablo originated and hailed from Spain and had arrived in the UK with big ambitions.

He had worked his way up in several restaurants and the rest, as they say, is history.

So my family does get through life pretty well. But we don’t depend on my dad alone.

Jennifer Crest is my mum and also a primary school teacher. Unlike my dad, she was born and bred in England. I still wonder why a handsome and drop dead gorgeous Spanish man would fall for a blonde-haired, blue-eyed and then down-on-her-luck university student. Back then, I knew that their friends thought they were complete opposites and had nothing in common.

How wrong they were. Over twenty years later, Pablo and Jennifer were a happily married couple with a family.

Then there was my brother, who was called Rafael. I knew Pablo chose his name … who else would? I was certain that Jennifer would have an English name. Rafael was tall like Pablo, had brown spiky hair and blue eyes.

My brother was … well, a lot of things really. He was argumentative, caring, gentle and overprotective all in one package. He was also sixteen years old – two years and three months older than me – and very smart.

Finally, there was me, Faith Crest. I was often told that I stand out from my family, which I used to ask myself how and why I did. Maybe it was my appearance. After all, I was averagely tall, had long black hair and green eyes – Pablo, Jennifer and Rafael didn’t have any of those physical features.

I didn’t really cook, look after children and I wasn’t the brightest spark either. But I had my own strengths outside my family.

For all my life, we lived in Cardiff. But now we were going to live in Evanton, an unknown town in the north. This was going to be brilliant …

The trip had taken about six hours in itself, so I was less than excited to be seeing our new house. Especially when Rafael and I were restricted to play cards, I Spy or fall asleep.

Those six hours had been torture.

I would never get the time back.

“This is it!” exclaimed Pablo, as he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. “Rafa! Faith! Come see our new house!”

Rafael didn’t budge, he was still fast asleep. I felt sorry for him since he had won every game of cards and I Spy we played on our trip. So he fell asleep an hour ago after noticing how bored I’d become.

But Pablo hadn’t turned back to see if we were following him. I rolled my eyes, as I watched him unlock the front door with the key and hurry inside.

“What is it that makes this move so exciting?” I muttered.

“Come on, Faith, let your dad be the happy one for once,” Jennifer said, who was very good at hearing me speak very quietly. Oops.

If I thought about it back then, I wouldn’t suspect anything dramatic that would change my life. I was careless and young back then … the smallest hint of change didn’t reveal itself so easily.

So I decided to let Pablo be happy for once. I flashed a hopeless smile in Jennifer’s direction and followed her inside the new house, leaving Rafael to wake up himself.

The house wasn’t exactly a mansion, but it didn’t appear as any ordinary house either. When we walked into the hallway, I instantly noticed that it was quite old with some minor adjustments. Our new home was a manor. Considering Jennifer’s reluctance to remain like a normal family, despite the wealth that we had, I realised it was no wonder that Pablo hadn’t gone overboard with this one.

The hallway was wooden – real wood itself – and there were some paintings of forests and angels – Pablo bought these from an antiques shop over the years – hung up on the wall, giving the house a warm and eerie feel at the same time. I couldn’t quite explain it.

When we passed through the hallway, we came to the living area. Pablo was standing in front of the fireplace, where the fire was burning brightly. Our furniture – consisting of two brown leather couches and three chairs – was already laid out before us. Glancing around the room, I had to admit that I was impressed with the way Pablo had arranged everything to what it was like (or similar) to how we remembered it back in Cardiff.

“Evanton, here I come,” I said quietly to myself. Again, Jennifer hadn’t missed my little remark.

“School starts tomorrow,” Pablo said to me and Rafael, who had just come in. “Like I promised, it’s a public one as always.” He turned to face Jennifer. “And Evanton Primary School calls for you, Jen. What group do you have?”

“Year Six,” grinned Jennifer. “It’s a shame really. Only six months to know them and they’ll be off to secondary school in no time …”

I’d heard this conversation before only two days ago. I told them both that I was going to have a walk around. Unexpectedly, Rafael announced that he was going as well and followed suit.

At first, I wanted to be alone. But now I realised that it was best if he came with me. We walked down the stairs into the front garden and we were both walking up the street like no tomorrow.

“You didn’t mind, did you?” asked Rafael. It was a typical question coming from my overprotective big brother. “I didn’t want to intrude or anything.”

“It’s fine,” I smiled. “We can get lost here together.”

He laughed at my comment, patting my shoulder gently. I was still getting used to how much he’d grown in the past few months. He was clever and, oh, really tall.

We continued walking up the street, glancing around. It felt strange to not be in Cardiff. I had been so used to the life down there … but it was dead in Evanton. I knew it was Sunday, but no one was around.

Just what was going on?

“This is really weird,” said Rafael.

“Definitely,” I agreed.

Rafael and I stopped walking. We could tell something was seriously wrong here. Because there was no sound in the town, not even a pin dropping, I actually felt scared. Rafael held on to his suspicious stance, no matter how cold he was. In the meantime, I came to one conclusion.

“Maybe he invited the entire town to celebrate the move?” I suggested.

“We would’ve seen it,” Rafael pointed out. At least he was here to right my wrongs.

And then all was revealed.

Two little boys, aged between seven and nine, came rushing by. But when they saw us standing in the middle of the street, both boys came to a halt.

“What are you doing standing here for?” asked the taller one bearing blue eyes and blonde hair. “You’ve got to hurry!”

“Hurry? What for?” I asked.

“The carnival!” bellowed his friend, whose brown curly hair was hardly invisible. “It’s the carnival to celebrate one hundred years of Evanton being here!”

Barely moments later, they sprinted down the street laughing loudly.

“Did we just get Punk’d?” asked Rafael, who clearly looked confused.

I rolled my eyes. “What do you mean, Rafa?”

“Did we get Punk’d? Is Ashton going to appear? I need to know!”

I forced to roll my eyes again. “No, he’s not coming. Come on, let’s go to this carnival and act like we are not the children of a famous chef.”

“Faith,” nodded Rafael. “Let’s go do this.” We started to walk. “Just a day, remember? An ordinary day …”

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And that, my friends, is the first chapter.

July 23, 2008, 10:34 PM

Looks like this will shapre up to be another success Ami! Fantastic work!

July 30, 2008, 1:38 AM

Pretty darn good Aimz. I look forward to more