The Wonders of Oz

ATTENTION: this is a sequel to "The Foreigners Of Oz" I suggest you read that first. DESCRIPTION: many things are changing now that Sara and Dylan have found each-other in Kansas. Sara will gain people and lose people in her life, as her and Dylan's love is tested.

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11. Chapter eleven "Phenomena"

I've been at Dylan's family's house all night. I've gotten to know his parents quite a but; his new father is a school councilor, and his mother,Caroline is a piano player. Abigail plays the piano too. And as she plays such peaceful tunes on the electric piano in their living room. She then does a duet with Caroline as a sit snuggly on the cream-colored couch, almost feeling just at home. Dylan's sitting right next to me in the middle, while his dad is sitting on the other side of the couch, and Sara sits on a chair near her mother, her sister, and the piano which plays such delicate, classical music with a hint of jazz. Sara looks at them in such interest as her eyes narrow, causing her upturned nose to crease at the top of the bridge, between her eyebrows. And her brown, straight bangs sit just shy from those eyebrows. "Do you know how to play?" I ask out of the curiosity from her look of curiosity. "No." She replies, bluntly. "Why?" She turns her view to me, looking at me with her gray-eyes similar to Dylan's, and replies, "Because I just think it's corny to play piano just because my mom does it." And I get it. She doesn't want to be what people would expect her to be. I understand. For example, because my hair is red, people would expect me to die it. My mother actually has the same hair-color, but she dies it blond. Meanwhile I never died my hair before. "I think that you should do whatever you wanna do and not care what anyone thinks, or who you're being co. mpared to." I say to Sara. She bites her lip, looking down, and then looks back up at me and asks, "Can I tell you a secret?" "Of coarse--- I'm actually surprised you'd be willing to." I gush out. "I don't like to do what my family does cuz I sometimes feel intimidated." "Why would you feel intimidated?" I ask. She blows her bangs out of her eyes as she crosses her legs, gripping the knee that's folded on top of the other. "Because they're so good at what they do... I just never wanted to get myself imbarrast." "You shouldn't f eel that way. Be whatever you wanna be." I say. She examines me from my head to my feet, then says, "Why should I take a word from a tooth-pick?" "What?" I ask, eyebrows furrowed, not expecting to hear something like that from Sara--- A young thirteen year old girl who hasn't seemed a bit mean. "My brother told me about your whole situation. You're very weak, now are you?" She catches me off-guard like never before. I didn't know that someone as harmless looking as Sara could be so different in the inside. All I could focus on now is the feeling of no one hearing me and Sara's conversation. It's as if we're in our own soundproof zone. All they're paying attention to is the song being played on the piano. The last keys of a soulful song are played. It gets closed by aplaws from the family. I start to clap along, wondering what just happened. I know that Sara is Dylan's sister, but why would he tell her my 2nd biggest secret (out of many)? Later, I'm with Dylan in his bedroom, covered in his brown quilt blanket from waste-down. Thinking about how he wanted tonight to be our first time, and I'd imagine my first time to be with him. But Marlin has gotten in the way of that--- and that leaves it just not feeling the same. After this nightmare of a day, I could finally fall asleep. I know I won't go through nightmares in my sleep, because I feel safe. I wake up, covered in sweat. The air feels strangely thick and shallow. Such tightness and pressure all over my body; though it doesn't feel physical. My gut just feels like it's the room, and I tend to listen to my gut-feeling. The dim light keeping this room awake shuts off, must have blown out. I soon can't get my eyes off of the carpeted floor, which has red smoke gathering, turning bright as it grows more heavy. The room feels hot. I have no idea what's happening. I don't know what to do; run out, or will walking over the smoke hurt? The red smoke's starting to get higher. If it does hurt, I'd rather get out before it gets so high that it hurts my whole body. I make my movements slow, not wanting to be startled by what might happen. As My feet are shy from the smoke, a red voltage spreads around the ground. I jump back with my feet, not wanting to get near the ground, wondering how I'll get out. But the voltage leaves behind a shining blue light, hitting every spot of the room. Something that scared me just now actually became very pretty and luminous. I can't help but to gaze at every corner of Dylan's small room with once white walls, now a bright-blue. As I look up at the roof to see images of a young boy hiding underneath a bed, looking so fearful, as if he were fearing for his life with tears gathering in his eyes. Then being pulls out by a man... That man is Georgie; he pulls the crying boys head back, pouring a bottle of pinkish/purple liquid. It's clear to me now. The boy is Dylan when he was eleven and had his memory wiped by Georgie, using the same potion he tried to use on me while imporsanating Dylan. Oz is somehow trying to show me this. Maybe The Lan Of Oz knows I've been in somewhat of danger. I'm being warned, and that's why I need to warn Dylan. So I tap the wood floors with my toe, not thinking that this lighting could do much harm, but just making sure, then when I know I could walk I sprint out of the room, off to see where Dylan has been. It had to be fate not letting him be in the room while all that happened. Who knows what would happen if he was? I find him in the living-room couch, watching TV. It's funny how fast he catched up on pop-culture. "Dylan?" I say. He turns his head enough to see me and ask, "What?" "What're you doing here? I was in there by myself." I say, aiming slowly to tell him what happened. He turns back to his television-show, breaking our eye-contact, and says, "I couldn't sleep." I look down, biting my lip, knowing that I don't have to tell him about what just happened in his room. He'll think I'm crazy. I come and sit myself down next to him. "Dylan, I wanna ask you something." I say, my eyes narrowing. "What would you like to know?" He asks. "Remember earlier today when that lady chased me?" He nods, I purse my lips, a bit shy to ask the following question, but knowing I have to continue. "Do feel that she was very wicked." "She was sick alright." He says, nonchalantly. "No, I don't mean wicked as in crazy and twisted. I mean wicked as in witchcraft." He raises his eyebrows. "What did she do besides chasing you? Did she cast some sort of running spell?" He laughs. I'm actually considering that possibility, but his suggestion wasn't being token seriously while spoken. "I'm serious!" I say, perhaps a bit harshly. "Well did she?" He asks. "No---" "Then don't worry. There are no witches on earth--- only in Oz. Okay?" I take in a nice breath of air, trying to believe what he tells me. I know that he has much more experience with magic then I do. I come closer to him, wanting to thank him for knowing just the right ways to make me feel so safe. I thank him with a kiss. He puts his arms around me, twisting his fingers in my hair, as I dig my fingers into his back. He goes lower, nipping on my neck down to my collarbone. As we slow down, I back up my head, and say, "Thank you."
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