The Boy With the Silver Eyes ~A NaNoWriMo Entry~

When a new boy named Peter Menard comes to their high school, Best friends Sarah Wagner and Alex Haisgen know there's something different about him. When the truth is revealed, a whirlwind of lies, jealousy, and hatred stirs. An old rivalry begins again, and Sarah is right in the middle of it. Sarah must travel to a world were magic, monsters, sprites, and fairies roam. Will she succeed, or will her life end as she knows it?
Cover created by Willow Angel.


42. Chapter 40

November 28th, 2015

Zlo’s POV:

When I reached the sleeping tent in camp, I ran to my sleeping roll and curled up in a ball, sobbing. The other Fe that resided in the tent rolled their eyes. I heard them call me a baby and a sissy, but I didn’t care.

“Hey, you, what’s wrong?” one girl said in a British accent, crouching down next to me. I wiped away my tears and sat up, looking at the girl. “My…my best friend was killed,” I said quietly, looking away. The girl’s blue eyes were filled with sympathy, which was the last thing I wanted.

“I…I know how you feel. I lost my brother,” she said quietly, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly. “You did? I…I’m sorry,” I said softly, not knowing what to say. Her thin, pink lips formed a soft smile and she used one of her thin, long fingers to put a strand of her blonde hair behind her pointed ears.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know,” she said quietly, smiling at me in a reassuring way. The other people around us had stopped whispering and muttering. Now, they were looking at the two of us with pity.

“Ugh, I hate it when people give me sympathy,” the girl muttered, rolling her eyes. “Tell me about it,” I sighed. We exchanged a glance and I looked away, blushing slightly. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you around here before,” she said, smiling a little.

“Uh…I have been here. It…it’s hard to explain, so don’t ask,” I said quietly, my thoughts once again turning to Peter. I laid down on my sleeping roll and rested the back of my head on my hands.

“Oh, wait, I never caught your name!” the girl said. “My name is…” I couldn’t remember my real name. How pathetic is that? “Zlo. My name is Zlo. What’s yours?” I asked.

“Annabel,” she replied, smiling brightly. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” She stood up and waved before walking away. I turned over onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow, the death of Peter and Sarah playing over and over again in my head.


Vladimir’s POV:

I got up to run after him, but Dimitri held me back. “No, Vladimir, he needs time alone,” Dimitri said quietly. I sighed, knowing that he was right. Bahadur removed the spearhead from his side and tossed it away in disgust. We stood there in silence, staring at Peter’s dead body.

“What should we do now? We can’t just leave him here…” My voice trailed off. Bahadur smiled weakly and picked Peter up gently, carrying him back to camp. “Thank you,” I said quietly. The other soldiers were carrying the rest of our dead back to camp so that they could be given a proper funeral. I passed by brothers mourning brothers, fathers mourning sons, and even strangers mourning over fallen comrades.

“So many lives have been lost…” I said, averting my eyes away from the carnage. Bahadur and Dimitri nodded in agreement, also casting their eyes down. We noticed that we had started a sort of procession. Each soldier carried a dead comrade as we made our way towards camp. As we entered the camp, the cooks and younger soldiers who had been commanded to stay behind parted for us, making a pathway to the burial grounds.

“Remember, we can’t let Zlo see us. He’ll probably have a break down in front of everyone,
 I said, cautiously scanning the area for any sign of him. They nodded, and we reached the burial grounds where shovels were already scattered here and there. Picking up a shovel, I began to dig Peter’s grave.

“I want to help,” Zlo said hoarsely, coming up from behind. I shook my head, and Zlo got this stubborn look on his face. He grabbed the shovel from out of my hands and started digging furiously, the sand flying out behind him.

“Zlo! Zlo, calm down!” I said, grabbing his arm He dropped the shovel and fell to his knees, his shoulders shaking with dry sobs. I carefully laid my hand on his shoulder, and when he didn’t jerk away, I kept it there.

“S…sorry,” Zlo sniffed, wiping his eyes and standing up. “You’re fine,” I said, resuming my digging. When the grave was deep and wide enough, Zlo lowered Peter down into the hole, resting him on the bottom gently. I covered the hole back up and we stood with our hands over our hearts in a moment of silence.  

 “Should we say something?” Dimitri said quietly, and Zlo nodded, stepping forward. “Peter, if you can hear me, I just wanted to say thank you for…for being my friend. Even though I was awful to you and I was a complete psycho, you still encouraged me later on. I’m glad I got to know you more,” he choked. I went next.

“There isn’t much for me to say. I didn’t know you for long. I guess…thank you, for helping Zlo. You’ve changed him for the better. You will be missed by all who knew you,” I said quietly, a single tear making its way down my cheek. Dimitri and Bahadur said nothing; they simply stared at the grave. Dimitri was muttering something under his breath, his eyes closed and his hands clasped. He was praying.

“Dear God, please quiet my mind, calm my spirit, secure my heart, and renew my faith & hope in a future filled with meaning, purpose, and love. While we are mourning the loss of our friend, help us remember that others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil. Amen.” I looked up at Dimitri, my eyes filled with tears.

He gestured in sign language, saying ‘you will be missed’, and walked away. Zlo and Bahadur repeated the gesture and followed close behind him, leaving me alone. Hesitantly, I also repeated the gesture and followed after them, tears flowing down my cheeks like rain.

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