school photos that you keep hidden.
But the worst photos are those of the parents. Their faces are so drawn and grief-stricken. They want their children back. I look at the faces of the girls around me and wonder who would look that grief-stricken for half of them. If something happens to me, whose face will be on the front page of the paper begging for me? Is a person worth more because they have someone to grieve for them?
I look at Jessa McKenzie and I wonder what typeof warped person carries around newspaper clippings of dead kids and despairing parents. What kind of a freak is this kid who’s giggling hysterically with the girls in the neighbouring beds, each with a crush on the other for being the same age when the rest of the world seems so old?
The three of them are snuggled up together, talking like they haven’t seen one another in years. Sometimes I look at the girls in my form, in my very own house, most of them now on the third floor with me, and I realise that I hardly know them.
For the first time since they made me leader of the community, I realise why I told Hannah I was thinking of leaving. It’s fear. Not of having to negotiate territory, fight a war, and make sure we come out of it with more land than when we started. I can do that blindfolded.
It’s this that scares me.
My seniors have left the House.
I’m in charge of fifty kids who don’t give a shit about the territory wars. They just want to be looked after.
And I have no idea how.
Chapter 5
He went missing on one of the prettiest days Narnie could remember in her whole sixteen years. One of those days when she woke up and actually wanted to be alive.
Over the next twenty-four hours the four of them called his name, first with annoyance, then urgency, hysteria, rage, grief.
And then with despair.
By the third day everyone else at the school joined in, as well as the Townies and the Cadets.
But the birds still sang and the river still flowed and the flowers were in full bloom.
And then their voices stopped and their souls stood still and they ceased being who they had been.
Because who they were had always been determined by him.
Five days after his disappearance she scraped the words and numbers on the trunk of the Prayer Tree.
M ATTHEW 10.26
And she vowed that she would never leave this place until he returned.
Chapter 6
The boy in the tree in my dreams comes calling again. His visits are more frequent these days. I ask him why and he tells me it’s because he’s waiting for someone. For the first time ever I feel a chill slice through me. I ask him who it is he is waiting for but he doesn’t answer. For some freaky reason, Hannah comes to mind and just when I’m about to ask him another question, I sense that there is someone else in the tree with us. Someone at the edge of the branch, like a shadow, but I can’t quite see their face. The boy stands up tall on the branch and dives into the water below and I hear a whimper from the shadow at the end of the branch. It frightens me so much that, with shaking legs, I stand as well. Ready to jump. Just about to.
“Taylor?”
I look at my clock. Six A.M.
Raffaela is standing by my bed. “It’s Ben. You should see what the Cadets have done to him.”
They went for his fingers like they knew how much he needed them. His House leaders would always do that to him, too. Ben’s a muso. Loves anything that produces a tune, so naturally it’s always his fingers that get smashed when someone is pissed off with him, and Ben has one of those personalities that invites pissed-offness. Raffaela has his fingers taped and it’s a while before he looks up at me. I flinch at what I see.
I’m presuming the eye will go a purply colour and that it will be difficult for him to eat for a day or two, judging by the amount of blood around his mouth. Raffaela cleans him up with the practicality of someone who has spent a lifetime doing it and I try to keep my mind on the
But the worst photos are those of the parents. Their faces are so drawn and grief-stricken. They want their children back. I look at the faces of the girls around me and wonder who would look that grief-stricken for half of them. If something happens to me, whose face will be on the front page of the paper begging for me? Is a person worth more because they have someone to grieve for them?
I look at Jessa McKenzie and I wonder what typeof warped person carries around newspaper clippings of dead kids and despairing parents. What kind of a freak is this kid who’s giggling hysterically with the girls in the neighbouring beds, each with a crush on the other for being the same age when the rest of the world seems so old?
The three of them are snuggled up together, talking like they haven’t seen one another in years. Sometimes I look at the girls in my form, in my very own house, most of them now on the third floor with me, and I realise that I hardly know them.
For the first time since they made me leader of the community, I realise why I told Hannah I was thinking of leaving. It’s fear. Not of having to negotiate territory, fight a war, and make sure we come out of it with more land than when we started. I can do that blindfolded.
It’s this that scares me.
My seniors have left the House.
I’m in charge of fifty kids who don’t give a shit about the territory wars. They just want to be looked after.
And I have no idea how.
Chapter 5
He went missing on one of the prettiest days Narnie could remember in her whole sixteen years. One of those days when she woke up and actually wanted to be alive.
Over the next twenty-four hours the four of them called his name, first with annoyance, then urgency, hysteria, rage, grief.
And then with despair.
By the third day everyone else at the school joined in, as well as the Townies and the Cadets.
But the birds still sang and the river still flowed and the flowers were in full bloom.
And then their voices stopped and their souls stood still and they ceased being who they had been.
Because who they were had always been determined by him.
Five days after his disappearance she scraped the words and numbers on the trunk of the Prayer Tree.
M ATTHEW 10.26
And she vowed that she would never leave this place until he returned.
Chapter 6
The boy in the tree in my dreams comes calling again. His visits are more frequent these days. I ask him why and he tells me it’s because he’s waiting for someone. For the first time ever I feel a chill slice through me. I ask him who it is he is waiting for but he doesn’t answer. For some freaky reason, Hannah comes to mind and just when I’m about to ask him another question, I sense that there is someone else in the tree with us. Someone at the edge of the branch, like a shadow, but I can’t quite see their face. The boy stands up tall on the branch and dives into the water below and I hear a whimper from the shadow at the end of the branch. It frightens me so much that, with shaking legs, I stand as well. Ready to jump. Just about to.
“Taylor?”
I look at my clock. Six A.M.
Raffaela is standing by my bed. “It’s Ben. You should see what the Cadets have done to him.”
They went for his fingers like they knew how much he needed them. His House leaders would always do that to him, too. Ben’s a muso. Loves anything that produces a tune, so naturally it’s always his fingers that get smashed when someone is pissed off with him, and Ben has one of those personalities that invites pissed-offness. Raffaela has his fingers taped and it’s a while before he looks up at me. I flinch at what I see.
I’m presuming the eye will go a purply colour and that it will be difficult for him to eat for a day or two, judging by the amount of blood around his mouth. Raffaela cleans him up with the practicality of someone who has spent a lifetime doing it and I try to keep my mind on the
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