The Dragon Realm

Chapter One

“IT’S NO SECRET that the school curriculum is not for everyone, yet we all have to go through with it. Nobody is going to use the pythagorean theorem and polynomials in their everyday life, and that’s that, but it just seems to drain the students of their creativity. You’d think they’d want to up that, but no; instead, they turn us into zombies; waking up every morning at 6 or so to get ready for the seven-hour hell entitled school.

Even so, there are still those who are popular and those who are neglected and are considered ‘nobodies.’ That’s how it’s always been, anyway. No matter how much they try to make everyone feel equal, there will always be another person who thinks they’re better than others, so the people will give them the power they crave.

They’re making it worse for every person in the school; how popular people think they can get away with everything with maybe just a slap on the wrist, and us nobodies are forced to think they should just be submissive for these people who think they rule the world. I’m sorry, but I know I don’t rule the world, and I’m not crumbling to the ground at your endless torment-”

Someone tapped my shoulder, “Mahalia.”

I jumped. I was too into my anger-induced writing I looked up from my notebook in which I was writing from to Miss Haperton’s slightly wrinkled face, “Uh.. yeah?”

“Hon, it’s 5:30, and I know you have homework. Of course, you are welcome here, but I’m sure your father is worried sick. I’ll be baking tonight, so tomorrow after school if you drop by, you can have whatever you’d like,” she maintained her amused smile. Her smile stayed sweet as it always did.

She was the sweet and oldest lady on my road. She was in her mid-60’s, but she looked barely 53. Her hair was short and a light copper; it was curly, but only enough to poof up her hair and make it look flawlessly imperfect.

I looked at my bookbag, knowing the monstrosity of homework awaited within it, and I looked back at Miss Haperton. “Alright, I suppose I should get going…” I picked up my things and my bag, then I said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I smiled at her, then walked out to her yard, picked up my bike, then rode it home.

My house was about three blocks away from Miss Haperton’s, my school being six blocks. My sister also rode her bike to school and back, mainly because we were oddly close and liked to talk to each other. Plus, I was her older sister, it may not be by blood, but she still looked up to me.

I got off my bike then quickly put it in its spot in the garage then went inside.

“Oh, hey honey, I was worried you wouldn’t be back for supper,” my stepmom, Dahlia, said, “I thought you’d stay at Miss Haperton’s again, but I can still make a little more if you’re hungry.”

I smiled at her, “I wanted to stay at her place, but she suggested I should head home, so I did. I’m a little hungry, but I probably won’t eat too much.”

“Alright.”

After walking into the living room and I didn’t see my father, I asked, “Where’s dad?”

“Don’t you remember? Your sister’s swim meet is tonight, and we-”

“Oh crap!” I interrupted her, remembering my sister asking for me to go to that. I ran back out to the garage and then bolted to my bike in which I straddled then started pedalling as fast as I could to the pool.

We lived in a smaller town, there weren’t many sports fields, but there were some small buildings which consisted of a small grocery store, a small candy store, a couple gas stations, the soccer and baseball fields, a swim team with an indoor pool for practising and meets, and the schools. The town was mostly used by outsiders when they were passing by and/or needed gas for their car.

Unfortunately, the smaller the town, the easier it is for bullies to get away with bullying. I’ve gotten in trouble for defending my sister before.

When I got to the pool, I saw people leaving, and I felt my heart sink. Still, I rush to try to find my father to make it look like I was there the whole time, but there I saw my sister and my father walking to the dressing room together, talking. Orella was still in her swimsuit, and her brown hair was matted to her face.

I wanted to hide or run away, but I couldn’t for they noticed me. In return I walked over to them, preparing what to say in my head.

“Hey Alia,” Dad acknowledged me, and he expressed his disappointment through his facial expression, making my fake smile diminish.

“Hi, dad…” I looked at Orella, “I’m so sorry Orella, I got caught up at Haperton’s then I completely blanked and went home. I came as soon as I could.”

Orella smiled reassuringly, “It’s okay, besides, I didn’t do that good, anyways…”

“I bet you did great! Even though I wasn’t there to cheer you on, at least dad was,” I look up at dad as though signalling for him to agree.

“Yeah, Orella, you did amazing, now let’s get you changed into your clothes then head home, mom’s making a special dinner for you,” dad smiled. His smile could light up a funeral, and I always wondered if I could do the same.

I walked with Orella inside the change room to see a bunch of girls changing and showering, etc. I followed her to the locker she used then waited as she went to change behind a curtain. She reminded me of my mom, even though they had never met; my mother died when I was twelve due to unreasonable circumstances. Nobody knows how she died, or if she died, even. For all I know, she could still be alive somewhere and she just wanted to leave me and dad. I never liked to think that’s how it happened, though; they arrested a man who they thought killed her and that was that, but I guess I’ll never know what truly happened.

She had an amulet she wore all the time, but when she died/went missing, she left the amulet on her dresser with a note for me.

“Dearest Mahalia,

Keep this amulet safe; wear it every day, and don’t forget to take care of your dad, he may be an adult, but he will be lost for a while.

Love,

Mom”

She wasn’t wrong about dad feeling lost after she was gone, and I didn’t let anyone see the note, for it was the last thing she wrote, and it meant a lot to me. Not even dad ever saw it.

I subconsciously grab the amulet around my neck; it was beautiful, yet odd. There was a deep red eye within a glass cover. The red eye was irritated, blue veins crept up the from the sides of the eye. The outer glass was kept intact by these metal wings surrounding it.

Orella walked out from behind the curtain, fully dressed and her swimsuit on slung over her shoulder.

“Orella, your shirt’s all wet now.”

She smiled, “Who cares? We’re just gonna go home after this,” she argued. I grabbed her swimsuit from her shoulder then walked over to the dryer and dried it for her.

When I got back, she opened her bag so I could put her swimsuit in it then we walked out to see my dad had already hooked up my bike to his car and turned it on.

Orella ran to the front seat yelling, “Shotgun!” I rolled my eyes and got into the backseat. She smiled innocently at me, and I rolled my eyes again.

“This is payback for not getting to my swim meet,” she taunted then buckled up and turned on the radio. She liked 80’s rock and rap. I didn’t mind it, for I liked all kinds of music, but I was still feeling sour about not making it to her swim meet.

Once we get home, Dahlia was finishing up the pasta, making sure the sauce was warm enough.

“Oh, hi girls,” she greeted, then she kissed my father as a greeting to him. I was happy he moved on and wasn’t still hung up on mom, but he makes me wonder if he ever even thought of mom’s soft yet extremely curly blonde hair or her bright brown eyes after he got with Dahlia. How she would make the greatest food in the world.

I subconsciously grabbed my amulet again. It reminded me of her. It was as though the amulet kept her memory within it. It was soothing but saddening at the same time.

“Mahalia, aren’t you going to eat?” Dahlia asked.

“Oh,” I snapped out of my daze, “um, yes, I am. I was just lost in thought,” I smiled comfortingly then got some food and sat down at the table.

“So,” said dad, “your sixteenth birthday is only a few days away! What would you like for supper then? We could go out to your favourite restaurant, or cook your favourite meal. Dahlia and I even have a surprise for you! On your birthday, of course.”

I was almost overwhelmed at all of the words that seemed to attack the silence. “Well, I… for dinner, we should have clam chowder.”

Dad looked at me incredulously, “I thought you didn’t like clam chowder.”

“I’m kidding!” I smiled, and they laughed awkwardly, “No, but I’d love some homemade pizza if that’s not too much to ask.”

“Of course it isn’t, honey! It’s your birthday!”

I smiled, “Well, now, we should celebrate how well Orella did at her swim meet,” I reminded, switching the focus onto my sweet younger stepsister.

Her long brown hair had dried a bit, already curling and puffing up. She happened to be the shortest person in the house with the longest hair.

I saw her look at me with hatred burning in her hazel-blue eyes, and I smiled wider.

She looked at her mom, “I didn’t really do that good, trust me.”

Dahlia laughed slightly, “Hon, I’m sure you did wonderfully. I wish I could’ve been there, but I was sure you’d be hungry after all that swimming. Anyways, what are we waiting for? Dig in!”

I had completely forgotten about the food in front of me. Still, I took a bite of the pasta, and it tasted like mom’s cooking. I was reminded that it must’ve been one of the many reasons he fell for Dahlia; her cooking is similar to mom’s, along with her ashy blonde hair and deep yet sparkling brown eyes. It was as though mom was a beautiful, sharp drawing of a perfect woman, and Dahlia was a rough sketch; she’s similar to mom, but she’d never live up to the expectations from dad and me.

“This is really good!” Orella expressed. She was scarfing her food down as though she hadn’t eaten in days, which I can clarify she had.

“I can agree, this is fantastic, honey,” dad agreed, he was always so nice, and such a flirt. It would make mom jealous sometimes when she was alive.

I decided I should join in, too, with an “I agree! It’s wonderful!” so I didn’t look like I was the only one who didn’t like it, even though I did.

She smiled, blushing a little, “Oh, thank you! I’m glad you all like it,” she said. I noticed that she shifted in her seat; she always did when we all complimented her on something. It was a little twitch that was almost cute.

I finished eating my food and headed upstairs to my room. I used to share it with Orella when my aunt lived with us for a couple years, but I was only about thirteen when that happened; I’m fifteen now, soon to be sixteen. Orella took my aunt’s room when she moved out.

Sometimes I can find it difficult to consider them family. I think of Orella as a best friend, and Dahlia as a woman who’s trying to live up to my dad’s expectations of the perfect woman; my mother. I feel bad for Dahlia, actually. She doesn’t deserve to feel so pressured into feeling that she needs to meet the expectations of my mother. I want to show her that she’s good enough, better even, than she thinks she needs to be.

As a matter of fact, I think I will.