"Evolutions"

17 year old Jena Marshal never suspected that she was so different then everyone else. She looked just like any other girl her age, and she acted just like them. That is, until she moves to the small town of Locks Alberta. She’s now the new girl in school but is quickly making friends. Then she learns she’s not the only one new to the school. Erik and Robert Hayes, brothers who vanished from Locks years before, are back. Alluring and both oddly mysterious, Jena soon finds herself fighting to build a friendship with them. But the closer she gets, the more she realizes that something is very bizarre about the brothers. No more then a few weeks after moving to Locks, Jena begins to experience strange headaches, with even stranger results. She can hear people. Not just what they are saying, but what they are thinking! Scared, she begins to think she’s going insane, but is too afraid to tell anyone or ask for help. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she is now experiencing nightmares unlike any she’s ever had before. All warning her to steer clear of the Hayes brothers. What’s going on with Erik and Robert? Could Jena be losing her mind? Does Locks hold the key to everything that’s happening or is it all sheer coincidence?

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1. Evolutions Prologue:

The music began to fade, and then stopped all together. Courtney quickly moved to the stereo, pressed a few buttons, and hurried back to Jeff — who now had a look of disgust on his face. He spoke something to Courtney, but I couldn’t hear it. Although I was sure he was begging her to let him go now. Courtney shook her head and then stood still while waiting for the music to come on. Then it happened and the music began to blare once again, this time louder then before and I couldn’t resist it any longer. I raised my hands to my ears, dropping the plate of pretzels all over my lap and the floor as I covered my ears. That did very little to quiet things down. The music seemed trapped in my head — blasting away at my eardrums. I almost felt like screaming as my head continued to throb.

Erik tapped me on the shoulder and I looked up. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything but the music. He continued to talk, still I hear nothing. When he realized I wasn’t responding, worry creased his brow.

“I can’t hear you!” I yelled. Everyone in the room quickly turned to me, obviously all of them had heard what I’d just said. Some of them stared at me, baffled as to why I was yelling. Then they all looked away. The music slowly began to fade but not by much. I lowered my hands from my ears — suddenly aware that they were trembling uncontrollably.

“Jena, are you alright?” I could barely hear Erik’s voice, but his eyes were a clear give away that he was worried.

I shook my head. As if the music wasn’t loud enough, it began to feel like everyone was standing next to me and yelling in my ear. Even though I knew it didn’t help, I quickly returned my trembling hands to my ears. What was wrong with me? Was my hearing really that sensitive? I knew I could hear things most people didn’t, such as hushed speaking, that didn’t explain why the music seemed to be a hundred times louder for me then anyone else.

I felt another tap on my shoulder, and Erik was talking again — still looking concerned. I shook my head, hoping he would understand that I couldn’t hear him. His lips continued to move. I tried to watch and see if I could figure out what he was saying, but lip-reading was not one of my hidden talents. My head continued to pound. The music drilling further and further until I felt like I was going to pass out. Slowly I rose from my seat — knocking the chair over as I staggered to the snack table. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pounding stopped and everything returned to normal. I was shocked to hear what the actual volume of the music was — which was hardly anything compared to what I had been hearing.

“Are you alright?” Erik’s soft, concerned voice quickly filled my ears taking the place of the deafening music. Not in a bad way, but in a comforting way.

“Yeah,” I replied, not sure if it was completely true or not. I was fine now, although I hadn’t been about two minutes ago. The pain I had just gone through was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. The best way to describe it would be to say that someone had been using a jackhammer on my skull, even that didn’t seem to give enough of a description of the pain.

“You didn’t look like it a few minute ago,” he pressed — staring directly at me.

“It’s just a headache,” I held my trembling hands in front of me and slowly turned them over. My heart almost stopped when I saw the bright red streams of blood on my hands.
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