Wish by H.R. Davison (phonics books .TXT) 📕

back into focus. “What?” I ask.

 

“I said.” She replies with a huff, “That we are pulling you out of school. It’s not like you are learning anything there anyway. Except for maybe how to get into fights or into a girls pants.” She states looking her nose down at me, annunciating each word to perfection. Her classically coifed hair still frozen in place in the same style since I was a little boy bobs forward as her heads leans down in direction, making a point to look down at me so that she knows she is the superior. She smiles at me wickedly knowing she has finally gotten under my skin, my shocked expression giving away my emotions.

 

“You can’t… do that.” I whisper.

 

“I can, and I will.” She says triumphantly. Knowing she has just won this battle. “You are done with school, as of today. I will have my assistant go to collect your personal affects tomorrow.” With that final statement she turns and walks out of the room, her five inch heels clicking in time with her jovial step.

 

My dad is still sitting on the couch. I look to him with my mouth hanging open in shock. “Are you going to allow this?” I question, already knowing the answer. He wouldn’t dare stand up to her, too cow towed by her overbearing demeanor. My dad is a laid back; go with the flow type of the guy, the exact opposite of my control freak mother. He smiles at me in a sad way before leaving the room without a word.

 

I am so angry I want to punch something. Preferably Ethan’s face again and again and again. How dare he think he could hit on my girl? Kat, my girl? Since when did Kat become my girl? I hardly think one date makes us serious, but that is how I think of her. It is what I want her to be. I am too mad to call her back tonight. I need to let out my aggression, knowing just the place I leave the moment my parents are both out of sight.

 

Having only been the Munkarit before with my father I walk towards the one place he always told me to avoid, Ovbek, the dwarven bar on Low Street. Munkarit is a magical realm, parallel to the human world, where most magical and mythical kindred live. Almost all folklore about legendary creatures is seeded in reality. Dwarves, goblins, trolls, werewolves, and vampires have always existed alongside humans, but most prefer to live in Munkarit. The delicate ego of humans would not be able to accept a reality where they are not the best.

 

I enter the dim bar, lining the wall are burning torches that cast a flickering light in the center of the room, leaving craters of shadows clinging in the corners. Munkarit has rejected all forms of modern technology, there is no indoor plumbing, electricity, and forget about cell reception. The wood planks creak under my weight as I walk evenly to the bar. Sliding onto a stool the bartender, a squat pock faced goblin with a hooked nose and green tinted skin asks. “What’s your poison rhakec?”

 

What is a rhakec, probably not a compliment? I square my shoulders and puff out my chest in a feeble attempt to look tough, lowering my voice I tell him. “Whatever’s cheap.”

 

“This one’s on meJyix.” A melodic voice says from behind me. Swiveling around on the barstool I am face to face with Soon-ya.

 

Soon-ya is oozing sexuality. Her olive skin glitters with an ethereal light. She is wearing a black tutu only; her raven hair curled and braided hanging down to her waist, barely covering her ample chest. Grabbing onto my left arm she presses it against her body, rubbing herself up and down my arm, she purrs into my ear. “DJ…”

 

“Soon-ya.” I say gruffly, not wanting to be her next victim, I attempt to pull my arm away from her vice-like grip. Only a Fae would resort to such depravity in a public place. Avoiding her mesmerizing silver eyes, I look past her to Jyix, the bartender, silently pleading for help. He shakes his head no at me before turning away.

 

Pressing my right palm against her shoulder, I wiggle my left arm to help free it from her clutches, as sweat beads on my brow. Mistaking my movement to free myself as pleasure, she presses herself harder into my arm forcing my hand down between her legs. I instantly regret my decision to come to Munkarit. I clench my fingers into a fist, not wanting anything todo with her depravity and perversion. I stand up and shout at her. “ENOUGH, Soon-ya.”

 

She backs away from me with a coy smile on her crimson lips, batting her spidery lashes she giggles in a high pitched soprano. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a blade. All eyes are on the scene between Soon-ya and I. Clearing my throat and concentrating to keep the tremble out of my voice I ask the bartender where my drink is.

 

Soon-ya sits on the stool next to me, sticking out her bottom lip, pouting dramatically. “I just want togive a birthday present.” She says while coiling her hair around one finger suggestively revealing her cleavage.

 

“I don’t need anything from you.” I state flatly, staring straight ahead to the bar. Jyix places my drink in front of me. I immediately grab it and swig it down in one gulp.

 

The liquid burns like fire down my throat settling into my stomach like an anvil. My senses are dulled immediately. The room spins around and the background noises of the bar fade away. I feel a tap on my shoulder. A stern voice says. “I believe you owe the lady an apology.” I turn on my stool carefully,so I don’t spill myself onto the floor in my inebriated state. Before I can complete the turn to greet the gallant hero I feel an exploding pain erupt against the left side of my face.

 

I look at the ceiling of the bar through blurred vision, trying to remember how I got on the floor. Realization of what happened hits me, as the possessor of the stern voice and mean left hook kicks me in the ribs. Curling into the fetal position I try to crawl away from the onslaught. I make my way to my knees before a boot to the backside sends me sprawling on my face. Before I raise my sweaty face upofrom the sticky floor it is picked up for me by my hair. Closing my eyes, I feel the floor meet my nose with a noticeable crunch, as darkness overtakes me.

 

I slowly regain consciousness, remaining quiet and still, I drowsily peel my eyes open to take in my surroundings. I am lying on a straw pallet. Three stone walls surround each side of me. The fourth wall is made of iron bars holding me captive. A weak light emits from the torch on the corridor wall outside of my cell. My body aches in protest as I sit up. My head is pounding like a jackhammer. What was in that drink? Remembering how thoroughly the troll from the bar overpowered me I flop back onto the pallet, disgusted with myself. I am still in Munkarit, in a jail cell in Munkarit to be exact. Why am I here? I didn’t know it was crime to take a beating.

 

I don’t know how long I have been in this cell, but after a while my stomach grumbles loudly, announcing the need for food. As if on cue a jailer appears in front of the bars of my cell. A squat dwarf with a long white beard that is braided to his knees, he is holding a bowl that contains what can only be defined as slop. Sliding it through the bars in my direction, I jump to grab it from his outstretched hand before he can drop the contents to the floor, ruining what may be my only meal today. “Aye boy.” The dwarf says. “Eat ‘em up. Yer gonna need yer strength for the pit, aye ya will.”

 

What is he talking about? I am being sentenced to the pit? Criminals and slaves of Munkarit are condemned to the pit to pay off debts to society. The pit is a dwarven gold mine, deep underground. No light shines in the mine, there is no water or food provided to the convicts, they are expected to live off of the rats and streams that flow in the abyss. “I-I don’t understand…” I stutter to the guard, my voice cracking from the lack of use and moisture. “Why are you sending me to the pit?”

 

The jailer laughs harshly, sounding more like a large dog barking than a laugh. “Aye boy, ya didn’t pay for yer drink, and Jyix be holdin’ ya ‘sponsible for the damages ya caused, aye.”

 

“I didn’t cause any damage.” I state flatly, knowing that my punishment has already been decreed, I will serve time in the pit, all arguing with the guard will do is make me angry at myself. Resigning to my fate I ask the guard. “How long?” Referring to the amount of time I am required to work in the pit before earning my freedom.

 

The guard brays laughter again, turning to walk away from the cell he calls back to me over his shoulder. “A week boy, if ya live that long, aye. I will be back in a jiff to fetch ya.”

 

The next week is torture. No food, other than the beetles that crawl on the wall in what I claim as my work space. I feel myself dehydrating from lack of water. I estimate the amount of weight I am losing by how many of my bones start to show through dry flaking skin. Around my neck is a metal collar, snapped tightly in place there is no clasp or buckle that I can locate by touch alone. The heavy collar is designed to prevent the wearer of performing magic. On the front of it is a red blinking light. The red signifies I am doomed to this Hell, when the light turns green my time here is up. When that happens the collar will dissipate and I will have the freedom to wish myself home.

 

My shoulders ache with the strain of using the pickaxe. My eyes cloud over with the constant dust and gloom. I am nearing the end of my time here, as I count the seconds to my freedom I think of Kat, and how angry she will be angry with me for my absence. I will tell her everything, I vow to myself. She may not believe me, but I will prove it to her. No more lies. I want her to love me, and I want it to be for who I really am. The weight of the collar leaves my neck. I take one last breath of this hell hole and vanish into thin air.

 

Kat

 

It has been over a week since I have seen, or heard from DJ. To prevent an overwhelming loneliness I have occupied my time after school with either Lilli or Andy. According to Lilli the last