The Seven

17 year old Tessa has been looking forward to her Choosing since she could remember. But it isn't what she was hoping for. As she finally meets her Seven she realises they don't want her and she doesn't really want them. Well, she wants one of them. As Tessa trains for her Transporting she learns more about how to be a Seven and quickly her first Transporting is upon her. But she soon realises she isn't as prepared as she'd thought.

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1. Planes in the Skai

I’d known I could be one of The Seven for as long as I could remember, but today was the day I found out what that truly meant. I’d lived all of my life in Ireland, moving about from place to place, but today, I would finally get to leave the country. My plane to London left from a hushed Dublin airport at 6.30 in the morning.  The moment I took the larger than normal step onto the plane, the feelings of excitement that had been bubbling happily inside my mind were drowned by feelings of terror. Every, single pair of eyes on the plane were glued to me; I could feel my face heating under their stares. What made everything worse was the fact that I knew them all, those six pairs of eyes, fixed on me, were the rest of The Seven.
          I wasn’t sure how long I stood, fixed in place at the front of the small plane, until an air hostess with an annoyingly perky smile and high pitched voice ushered me into one of the many vacant seats. In all my time considering what meeting The Seven would actually be like, I had never considered the fact that they wouldn’t like me. That fact now crashed into me from the waves of hatred that seemed to pour from each of them in my direction. I wasn’t sure why I had ever expected them to like me, I was an outsider. I recalled one of the many paragraphs in the booklet I had been given seven days prior to my departure, ‘six members of The Seven are born into their roles (their parents were members of the previous seven), but the final member would be chosen from a predicated selection of Regular families with children of the correct age (17)’. I was the Regular.
        For my first ever plane journey, I think I managed very well, aside from the fact my knuckles turned a frightening shade of white during the takeoff and landing. The journey was shorter than I expected and in just over an hour we had landed at London Gatwick. I glanced at each of the faces I remembered from the pages of my booklet, wondering if they’d ever accept me, when the bus arrived. A flash of anxiety rose inside me, the bus had only seven seats, meaning I would be forced to sit beside one of them. What made matters even worse was the clear look of distain that passed over each member of The Seven as they came to the same conclusion as I had.
          I was momentarily gratified when they seemed to not want me to overhear their argument about who would have the ordeal of sitting next to me, on what we had been told would be a three hour drive. That gratitude passed when the volume of the argument rose to the point where they were practically shouting their cases, then finally in a moment that seemed to shock them more than me, a voice called out ,”Oh for God’s sake, I’ll do it!” My eyes sought out the source of the deep, agitated voice but they never found their target as I was again ushered from my stationary position and into the plain, white bus. My eyes darted over each person that came through the entrance from my position as far back in the bus that I could manage, waiting for one of them to reveal themselves as my companion, but they each took seats further up the bus.
          As my hope was beginning to dwindle, a pale, long fingered hand planted itself on the back of the seat in front of me, “Sorry I took so long, I was talking to Crystal.” My eyes shot up to the source of my previous rescuer, he was tall and the light shining through the windows of the bus made it hard for me to see him.  He swung himself into the seat next to mine and I got a clear view and instantly wished I hadn’t. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I laid eyes on him, his blonde, slightly curly hair lay unruly at the top of what seemed to be a perfectly sculpted face. His eyes were the darkest shade of blue with tiny flecks of yellow like tiny stars peppering the night sky. I finally realised I must be staring and quickly averted my eyes, again feeling my cheeks heat up. “So you’re the Regular,” he said with a mixture of confidence and a strange sense of curiosity, like I was some rare species, “I’m Skai.”

 

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