by K. Weikel
Banshee never bothered her again. She had her fourteenth birthday in the winter, and her parents threw a small party for her. Fifteenth birthday tagged along behind it the next year, and then the sixteenth. The Light Clan has been good to her so far, and she hasn’t made one mistake yet. It’s really hard to stay on the Light Clan for as long as she has, and many of her friends have fallen from it, joining the Dark Clan.
Another year passes.
It’s only a week before her birthday celebration of turning eighteen. She’ll receive her full adult mask then, at the exact time she had been born. The mask will cover her entire face.
Becca is walking along a dirt path lined with trees. She had just finished eating lunch at one of the café’s her parents used to always take her when she was little. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. There isn’t a care in the world for Becca Reed as she smiles from beneath her mask. It had fit her once but now she’s outgrowing it. It lifts up a little bit as her cheeks rise and fall beneath the material.
A figure swings out from behind one of the trees as Becca walks by and it stops her dead in her tracks.
“Banshee,” she whispers, her body freezing.
His long black cloak drags behind him now as the soft wind ruffles it, making it come alive, and the sleeves cover his hands completely as they limply rest by his sides. The mask is still completely black, and he seems to be staring straight at her through the black glass in the eyeholes.
“Becca,” He cocks his head as she begins to back up.
“Leave me alone,” She says.
His head turns the other way and the mask moves up a bit, as if he’s smiling underneath the mask.
“Becca, you’re going to choose wrong.” He says, walking forward. “Becca, you need to follow me. Becca, you need to choose the right side.”
“I am on the right side,” Becca growls. “I fix things and create things, not destroy them and—”
“No, no. You’re breaking the rules. You’re yelling at me. You’re not perfect! Come with me. Don’t make me force you to. Come. Now.”
“Leave me alone!” She cries as she turns to walk away.
“You’re wrong. You’re dark. You belong on the Dark Clan. You’re wrong. Becca, you’re wrong. Be right. Be right, Becca!”
Becca covers her ears but she can still hear his screams.
“You will fail! You will fail, Becca, and no one will help you! You will fall! Without me you will fail! You’ll be alone!”
She starts to run.
“You’ll be alone!”
Becca sprints all of the way home, her heart pounding and her head spinning. Banshee has reappeared… he was instructed not to by Quill…
Should she tell Quill? What would he do to Banshee if she does? To her? Should she tell him?
She shakes her head and makes up her mind.
She’s going to keep her mouth shut.
But what if she can’t? What if Banshee is right? What if she belongs on the other side?
“No,” she says, sitting on the floor of her room. “No I belong here. On the Light Clan.”
But something tugs at the back of her mind.
What if she’s wrong?
