The shadows envelope me, smothering all of the light that makes my world what it is. Yet, how can I call this world my own, when all that it has brought me is lies? What I had known was proven false, and all the truths that I held were slowly coming loose. I am suddenly beginning to realize that there are some things better left untold.

I shut my eyes as tears formed and slowly trickled down my cheeks. The blackness was oddly comforting, and, for a few moments, I felt at peace. A stray lock of hair fell across my face. Annoyed, I opened my eyes, revealing myself to the world yet again.

My vision was blurred from crying and I didn't bother to clear it; instead, I aimlessly tucked my strawberry blond hair behind one ear. I lay crumpled in my blankets, blue sheets messily scattered about and pillows thrown across my room. I blinked several times and miserably shifted my position on my bed.

Faintly I heard a knock at the door. I knew instantly who it was and said nothing. My visitor sighed sadly but her remorse did not soften the hate that I felt towards her. Despite all of my wishful thinking, I watched as the door swung open, revealing a slim silhouette.

When she entered, the light from my room cast strange shadows over her features, making her appear all the more haunted and ethereal. She had ghostly pale skin, and on each of her cheekbones was a scar of a strange crescent shaped moon. Luscious and flawless dark hair fell from her shoulders like an obedient shadow. The woman's eyes were another matter entirely; they were small, squinty, and so black that just by looking at them I felt lost, fearful, and afraid. There was some wicked power behind those eyes, something alien and unnatural.

This woman, until previously, had been my mother, or so I had thought her to be. She did not always image what she appeared as now, but as my mother her hair had been as red as mine, and her eyes as green. She had worn the air of happiness around her, and now instead, she cloaked herself in an aura of mystery.

If my life were a soap opera, it would have been first rate. It had the crying, the teenage angst, the secrets, and the lies of any decent episode of Days Of Our Lives. The main problem was that I had yet to learn the whole truth. All that I had discovered was that my mother was a stranger, and I had a feeling that even this disturbing fact was not the most surprising of those I would have to face.

"Dear, dear Jasper. Please try to understand…" Her voice sent chills up my spine; it was nothing like my mother's voice from before I found out the truth. Everything I knew was dyeing because of one lie. "Jasper, I was sworn to secrecy; there was nothing I could do," she pleaded.I wanted to believe her, but I knew better. If she had lied before, then perhaps it would be just as easy to lie again.

The pale woman crouched on her knees, bringing her eyes level with my own. "They wanted you…dead. I had to do something!" she strained.

"What are you talking about, who wanted me dead?" I replied my mouth gaping open. She sighed and shook her head. A sudden surge of rage flushed out my sorrow, and when I looked into her eyes the fury was two fold. "Who are you to deprive me of answers, especially if it's about me?" I demanded.

"You have to wait; I'll tell you when he arrives…"

"When who arrives? This is about my life; I have a right to know!"

"Be patient."

"Don't you dare say that. If you won't tell me then leave!" I felt my cheeks burn and turned away from her.

"Please?" She begged. I could now sense her pain boiling up from within. I turned back once more; our eyes met and she smiled weakly.

"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers," I said. I turned to the woman and gave her a glare. Her eyes filled with tears, and she retreated silently out my door. Once she disappeared, my anger melted away. I then collapsed into my blankets and cried myself to sleep.

Chapter one

And So It Begins


Charles- everyone knows a Charles at some point in his or her life. In fact, it was classified as one of the most common names in America in the year 1990 and has since grown in popularity over a span of 15 years. And a Marlin, as everyone knows is a huge sport fish caught in the bright blue waters of the Caribbean. Based off of this knowledge, a name of Charles Marlin simply screams trouble. Charles Marlin is about the best teacher's pet I have ever gotten the chance to evaluate.

Teacher's pets: now there was a topic even Jacque Cousteau, father of marine biology, wouldn't try dive to the very bottom of. Whether it is kindergarten when the teacher's pet gets the best crayons or the most popcorn, or high school where the pet gets the best desk or the best lab partners; it doesn't make a difference; teacher's pets will always be the same.

Every morning Charles comes into my first period Biology II class alone (being a teacher's pet he doesn't have all that many friends), which of course only increased the teacher's liking of him. Well here's a shocker; this morning Charles Marlin entered the classroom accompanied with another student!

The boy, who entered this very classroom with the notorious, Charles Marlin, had to have been new.

I studied the new student with curiosity. He had dark hair reaching his earlobe that bounced but never strayed when he walked. His eyes were darker than obsidian, and as I looked into them I felt my curiosity double. Who was this boy? A quick glance at the rest of his face made me realize the uncanny resemblance between him and my mother. One thing particularly jumped out at me; his complexion was unhealthily pale, and on each cheekbone was a sickle moon scar.

I shivered. The dark hair, pale skin, and identical scars could not have been a simple coincidence. It was obvious that both my mother and this student where somehow connected.

Rage filled my heart at the thought of what had taken place only last night. My mother was a stranger. To make the situation worse, she had lied to me, claiming to have been my mother and told me only last night that she wasn't. She further claimed that someone was out to kill me and that she had acted as my guardian in an attempt to protect my life.

I turned my gaze away, not wishing to catch his attention. The things that my mother spoke of were things that I had no intension of allowing to emerge here, especially not in front of peers.

I turned in my seat to face my friend. Kelly wore no sweatshirt or sweater, because, as usual, she had lost it during gym class. Instead she wore a long t-shirt displaying our school's logo. Her long brown hair was piled up in a ponytail of some sort, which was highly unusual; her mom had most likely tackled her down this morning just to get it organized looking. Kelly's book bag lay by her desk, partially open, showing the messy papers and crinkled homework that stuck out of the opening.

"Are you alright Jasper?" she asked me, probably noting the deep circles under my eyes. I hadn't told her about last night, but I knew that she would most likely unravel the event sooner or later; she was my best friend after all and was extremely good at doing such.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired," all of which was a lie, and the frown on her face showed that she knew better.

"Hey," called an unfamiliar voice from behind me, thankfully interrupting our conversation.

I turned around to reply but the words suddenly caught in my throat. It was that kid.

"A friend of my mom's?" I asked him accusingly.

"If you're Jasper, than yeah, I know your mom," he answered warily. I don't think he liked the look of fury I gave him because he took a couple steps backward.

"You're not wanted here, so take a hint and go away," I was breathing furiously through my nose as my voice rose angrily. It occurred to me that Kelly was still sitting next to me and I cursed myself for being so open; she will never shut up about this incident, until she figures out exactly what was happening.

Over the new kid's shoulder I caught a glimpse of Hillary, Kelly's older sister, strutting into the classroom. Seeing the three of us gathered around my desk, she began to walk over. Ever since Hilary's grade in science last year she had taken classes along with Kelly and me. A smile was pressed on her lips, unaware of the delicate situation at hand here.

"Jasper, Kelly, you didn't tell me that you knew the new kid," she said smoothly then turned to the boy and beamed. "Hi, I'm Hillary."

"Onyx," he replied with an uneasy smile. It was then that I noticed the strange stone pendent strung around the leather thong at Onyx's neck. Just looking at the black gem made me shiver and squirm in my seat.

Hillary and Kelly were exact opposites; where Kelly wore a t-shirt, Hillary wore a pink polo, and were one had on a pair of jeans the other had a mini skirt. They didn't even look like sisters. Hillary had white-blond hair and bright blue eyes, which countered Kelly's brown hair beautifully. It was tomAto, tomato, with these two.

I sighed as I was drawn back to reality, Kelly at my side, and Hillary shaking hands with Onyx, as he hovered over my desk. At that moment the teacher sat down in her chair and began to call everyone's attention. Hillary and Onyx left to find empty desks and Kelly sat back down at her seat across from my own.

"Now class I'd like you to give our new student, Onyx Smith, a warm welcome." In acknowledgment to what the teacher had said, the students clapped unenthusiastically; a new student wasn't unusual for our school.

I sighed for the hundredth time this morning; it was going to be a very long week.

Author's Note: hey guys! I hope you've enjoyed the story so far…. I actually have most of it written already so waiting for chapter two wont take long at all, in fact I may post it sometime this weekend. I have already had this story on fictionpress before, about a year or so ago, but I took it off so that I could edit it and so on. So yeah…..