The Hybrid (19 page)

Tru watched Mr. Kushner as he continued scribbling
on the whiteboard. The dry-erase marker squeaked with
every stroke. He reminded Tru of Mr. Rogers with his
button down, light blue shirt and V-necked, navy blue
sweater tucked neatly into his khaki’s. His black Dockers
and matching black belt completed the look. His outfit
made him appear much older than he probably was, even
though he did have grey hair and a pair of seventies looking glasses that slightly hid his deep set eyes as the frames
sat low on his nose. He was a taller man, and slender, but
in very good shape. He didn’t slouch or hunch, and his
fingers showed no signs of arthritis, or a single wrinkle.
Tru couldn’t help but wonder what he must have looked
like when he was younger.

And as she sat, stuck in her own world, the other students slowly piled into the class. Almost every single one
of them approached her⎯ startling her each time⎯ and
asked how she was feeling, before quietly taking their
own seats. Tru didn’t like all the attention, but it was nice
to know that people had actually noticed her.

Tru waited quietly for the bell to ring and class to
begin, and when it finally did, she took a deep breath and
let out a sigh.

No more questions,
she thought to herself.
Mr. Kushner was still writing away⎯ the marker continued to squeak against the board, reminding Tru of baby birds chirping for their mother⎯ and as he scribbled
hurriedly, a group of girls in the row next to Tru began
chatting amongst themselves. Tru managed to hear some
of
what
they
were
talking about ⎯ mostly boys and
clothes. But she instantly felt bad about eavesdropping,
so she turned to look at the open notebook sitting on her
desk and began sketching.
Sketching was a comfort to Gertrude. It came naturally. It helped her think, quickly casting out the things going on around her. While she was sketching, she was able
to fall into her own world, her personal bubble that was
near impossible to penetrate.
But
nearly
impossible wasn’t enough.
Without warning, something hit Tru’s right shoulder,
startling her just enough to make her drop the black mechanical pencil she was holding. Tru looked down at the
ground and saw the small, crumpled up piece of binder
paper that had bounced gently off of her body. It laid just
a few inches from her left foot on the glossy linoleum
floor, so, Tru casually bent over in her chair, and picked it
up.
“Oh, sorry,” said the boy sitting in the seat directly behind her.
Tru looked over her shoulder slightly, just enough to
see him leaning forward in his chair, looking down at the
piece of paper she held in her hand.
“It’s okay,” she replied, slightly blushing before she
turned back to her drawing.
“I meant to hit the guy in front of you,” the boy continued.
Nervously, because she hadn’t expected him to go on,
Tru replied, “Oh, did you want me to get him for you?”
She casually pointed to the boy sitting in front of her, as
she twisted her left shoulder back around to face the
young man behind her.
He had blonde cropped hair, and bright blue eyes. His
face was gentle, but somehow strong and rugged at the
same time. Tru could see that he was wearing a black
band t-shirt⎯ one she didn’t recognize⎯ and a pair of
blue jeans. Her mood changed immediately from being
slightly annoyed, to being extremely embarrassed for being annoyed. She couldn’t help but blush as she watched
him for a moment.
“Nah, it’s cool.” He smiled, his white teeth gleaming
behind his pink lips. “I’ll just talk to him later. Thanks
though.” The young man casually picked up his pencil
and began taking notes.
Tru turned back to her own notebook and flipped to a
clean page. She barely paid any attention to the teacher as
she doodled away, secretly hoping her conversation with
the attractive boy wasn’t over yet.
“So, what are you drawing?” the boy quietly asked. Tru
jumped when he spoke this time, and quickly realized
that he was dangerously close to her. Tru could almost
feel his breath on her bruised skin as he leaned forward
over his desk to get a better look.

“Oh, uh,” Tru paused and looked back at the pair of
eyes she had drawn on the lined piece of paper. They
seemed to be looking straight up at her, but she chose not
to say anything else. Instead, she lifted the notebook over
her shoulder and waited to hear some kind of criticism.

“Wow. That’s
really
good,” he whispered, taking the
book from her hands. Tru turned to watch him as he continued to analyze the page, gradually leaning back in his
chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. After a few
minutes of silence, the young man gladly handed the
book back to Tru. She took it from him gently, and placed
it back on her desk.

“Do they belong to someone in particular? Or are they
just out of your imagination?” He leaned closer to her
again, speaking even softer this time, as to avoid the
teacher calling them both out for talking.

“Uh,” Tru paused and looked down at the pair of eyes
staring back up at her. Almost instantly, a nose, a pair of
perfectly
shaped eyebrows,
and beautiful
rose-colored
lips, accompanied the eyes. His skin was soft and tan and
his eyes had turned the most wonderful shade of green.
Tru blinked, not believing what she was seeing. And as
her eyes focused again, the face was gone, leaving only the
two, colorless, almond shaped, penciled eyes behind.

“Well, they’re just a pair of eyes. They’re from my imagination, I guess.” Tru smiled slightly, looking over her
shoulder.

“They’re really good though.” The young man leaned
back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest once
again.

“Thanks.” Tru looked back up at the whiteboard in
front of the class. It was now almost completely covered
in terms to know for an upcoming test. As she quickly
began writing down what she had missed, the boy from
the desk behind her gently tapped her shoulder. When
Tru turned back to glare at him, he threw his hands up,
leaving his elbows planted on the desk, as if to say ‘don’t
hurt me.’

“I’m sorry, I just noticed I never introduced myself.”
He slowly held out his hand, waiting for Tru to grab it.
“The name’s Declan.”

“Hi,” Tru said as she grabbed his hand. “I’m Tru.” She
quickly let go, blushing as she turned her torso back toward the front of the class. She felt bad that she had
glared at him the way she did, but couldn’t he have waited
until class was over?

“So,” Declan whispered. Tru could feel him leaning
close to her shoulder again. “Are you going to Bethany’s
party on Saturday?”

“Uh huh,” she whispered back. “Are you?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Yeah, it sounds like fun.” She wanted to turn around

again, but part of her knew it was probably best not to.
“Yup.”
The remainder of the class was surprisingly quiet. Declan never said another word, and Tru was too shy to
bring up a new topic. Part of her wondered what he was
thinking about, but the other part of her was happy to
finally have some time to herself.

“Bring me the prisoner!” Kayne shouted to the leather
clad guards standing at the edge of the great room.
“Right away, Sir,” one of the men replied, before quickly hurrying out of the cathedral-like, open doorway. Within seconds, the guard was landing on the highest balcony
of the nearest tree where another guard, dressed in the
same gear waited.
“State your purpose,” the second guard spoke in a deep
voice as he held his wooden spear firmly in his hand.
“The King has requested his presence.”
Quickly, the second man pulled back the thick maroon
material that covered the small doorway, and watched as
the first guard ducked and walked inside.
The room was small, dark, and very cold. But it was lit
with just enough light through the small window at the
top of the ceiling that the guard could see exactly who he
was looking for. There, in the center of the room, was a
young man. His hands were raised above his bowed head,
a pair of shackles around his wrists, with thick steel
chains securing them to the walls on each side of the
room. His knees were firmly planted against the wooden
floor, supporting as much of his body weight as they
could handle. When the guard drew closer, the young
man raised his head.
“Get up.”
The young man did not respond. His face was badly
bruised. The cut on the bridge of his nose indicated that it
had been broken, and the blood that had once poured
heavily from it a few days ago was now dried and crusty,
running in a crooked line along the side of his nostril, and
over his lips, ending at the edge of his chin. Both eyes
were framed with black and blue circles that grew darker
towards his nose. The gash above his right eye still leaked
warm blood, making it slightly harder to see each time he
blinked his eyes. His bottom lip was swollen and split in
more than one place. But even with all the damage to his
features, he still looked angrily at the man, like he wanted
them to hurt him more.

“I said, GET UP!” the guard shouted as he pulled the
young man up from the ground.
Quickly, the young man on the ground wrapped his
hands around the chains that were attached to the metal
cuffs on his wrists. In an instant, the chains were wrapped
tightly around the guard’s neck. The guard tried to shout,
but the young man turned him away, placing a hand over
his mouth so he could not speak.

I do not want to hurt you. Please, Threl. Do not make
me do this.
The young man’s lips did not move as he
spoke.

Suddenly, the guard with the wooden spear entered the
room, pointing his weapon at the two men. The shackled
man pulled the guard known as Threl in front of him,
shielding himself from the pointed blade in the other
guard’s hands.

“You don’t want to do this!” the guard shouted toward
the two men. “It’s not worth it!”
“Release me, Mathin! And I will set him free!” The
chains gripped tighter around Threl’s neck. Threl frantically reached for the links, trying to pry them away from
his darkened skin, but it was no use. The chains were so
tight that Threl could not get a hand around them to pull
himself free.
The spear in Mathin’s hands drew closer to the two
men as he looked over his shoulder. “Guards! Get in here!
Quick!”
In a matter of seconds, three new guards entered the
dark room. And in perfect unison, the three of them were
on top of the young man, pulling Threl away as they tackled the shackled man to the ground.
“What
took
so
long?” Kayne
asked
when
the
five
guards entered the great room moments later, with the
shackled man dragging behind them. Fresh blood was
now pouring from his nose and mouth, smearing across
the wooden floor, as the man remained limp behind the
guards.
“The prisoner tried to escape,” Threl said as he reached
a spot just a few feet in front of the throne where Kayne
was perched. And as the other four men parted into two
lines behind him, Kayne rose from his seat.
“Edyn, Edyn, Edyn,” he said in a soothing tone as he
advanced across the room. “When will you learn, Brother?”
Edyn’s hands were now tightly bound behind his back,
and as he rose to his scraped and bruised knees once
more, he looked up at his brother.
Brother, please, stop this.
His bruised and bloodshot eyes began to tear, making
the green in them turn dark and wide. A single tear quickly rolled down his face as he blinked, dragging with it
some of the blood that flowed out of his nose.
Please.
“Stay out of my head!” Kayne shouted at the top of his
lungs, causing the room to shake furiously around them.
“I told you to find me the traitor. And instead of confessing to your own actions, you chose to blatantly lie to my
face. I cannot allow such crimes to be permitted.” Kayne
slowly walked between the two short rows of men, stopping when he stood just a foot in front of him. Edyn slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head into his chest. “Especially not from my own brother!” In an instant, Kayne’s
hand was tightly wrapped around Edyn’s neck. The man
slowly raised Edyn’s body into the air, letting his legs
dangle in the air beneath him. “You will set an example
for them,” Kayne whispered, angrily looking at his brother.
Soon, Edyn’s body was hurtling through the air, his
legs sprawling out beneath him. Seconds later, his back
was thrust against the wall of the great room. Edyn cried
out in agony before he crumpled into a lump on the floor.
His
body
was
weak,
and
tender,
and
his
brother’s
strength outmatched him tremendously.

“Why are you doing this?” Edyn said as he lifted his
torso off of the ground, and leaned against the wall for
support. He coughed a couple of times before quickly
spatting a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

“You
know
why,
Brother.” Kayne
walked
closer
to
Edyn, glaring at him with a smile across his face. “You
have only brought this upon yourself. You have disobeyed
my orders for the last time. And now it is time for you to
pay for your actions.” Kayne stopped, and crossed his
arms over his chest as he looked down at his brother.
“She is a
human
.” The nostrils on Kayne’s face flared in
disgust as he said the word. “A filthy, worthless
human
.
And when I am finished you, I
will
find her.”

“You dare tell
me
what to do?” Kayne’s face was less
than an inch from Edyn’s now. “
I
am the King.
Not
the
other way around!”

Kayne’s fist hit Edyn’s jaw almost instantly, leaving
him no time to react. He was on the floor before he had
even realized what had happened. The cold floor shocked
Edyn as his cheek slammed against it violently. More
blood poured from his mouth.