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Minecraft: 50 Unofficial Minecraft Books in 1 (Minecraft Diary Deal, Minecraft Book, Minecraft Storybook, Minecraft Books, Minecraft Diaries, Minecraft Diary, Minecraft Book for Kids)

Page 53

by Billy Miner


  Nightlife was mostly for the weekends, but now that I was off a day early, I decided to go to the night clubs. I had a lot of friends there, and although I never gave in when they pressured me to drink alcohol, I still had a fun time. Yeah, my mom had taught me to stay away from that stuff, and as a nurse, I would never touch a glass of wine or beer, let alone those filthy cigarettes. I was living healthily, free form addictions.

  I kind of dressed like a gothic, with all the purple and black, which was strange to some, but that was how I felt more like myself and that is how I expressed my feelings.

  I just loved music and dancing and partying. So most times, I would let off steam in the nightclubs. Sometimes I went to house parties, sometimes to reggae clubs (although they always stunk), but most times, I felt at home in the rock cafés.

  Rock music was the best. I loved the guitars, the drums, the singers’ voices, and the rebellious atmosphere of the fans. I had already attended performances of my favorite bands, and when I had saved up enough money, I bought an electric guitar myself. I still had a lot to learn, which I found out soon enough, but it was one of my passions nonetheless.

  The day I got sent home early, I felt like taking myself into a different world and jump up and down in a small club where amateurish artist would express their feelings and show off their talents.

  It was 11:00 p.m., which wasn’t very late for the usual visitors. I was a little sleepy, but I needed the break. In the middle of the city, I walked through the alleys and stopped at one of my favorite places called “Rock On.” I showed my identity card to let the bouncer know I was the proper age, and I went inside.

  “Hey Nyx,” a familiar voice said.

  I turned around.

  It was Robert, one of my hard rock friends. It had been a while since I had last seen him, but I remember jumping up and down when “Society Stinks” played the best songs of their album in this same café. Robert was tall, full of tattoos and piercings, and pretty witty for someone who had such low grades in school.

  “Hi Robert. How have you been?”

  “Oh, you know, just hanging out. Doing stuff. How about you?”

  “I am usually kind of busy at the hospital, but today was bad. I snapped at a trashy woman who stood up for her kid’s bad behavior.”

  “Ah, I hate stuff like that,” he said.

  “Anyway, what are you up to this evening?”

  “Just going to listen to ‘Dark and Dreary.’ They are supposed to come here and they rock at playing those guitar solos.”

  “Sounds good. I think I’ll stick around,” I said.

  “Hey, something else. And don’t tell this to anyone, but I got some really good stuff if you’re interested,” he suddenly said, completely off topic.

  “Uhmm… stuff? What are you talking about?”

  “Come with me. I will show you.”

  Without enough suspicion, I followed his lead and went around the back of the rock café. There, he pulled me a little closer, not violently but still somewhat roughly and discretely, and showed me what was in his pocket.

  “Drugs?” I asked. “Oh no, forget it. I am not into that.”

  “Oh come on,” he said. “It’s great stuff.”

  He sniffled, and that was the moment when I looked into his eyes a little bit more closely. You could see it. He had been using it. He wasn’t all there.

  “Robert, it’s not my business, but I highly recommend you stop using this junk. Don’t you know what this can do to your body, let alone to your mind?”

  “It’s not that bad,” he insisted. “Besides, everybody is doing it. You might as well join us and have some fun.”

  “I am not going to destroy my life,” I said as I walked away.

  Great.

  Another friend who went down the path of darkness. Maybe my personal interests weren’t driving me into the hands of people in the most sophisticated circles. I didn’t stick around for long that night. Inside, I listened to a couple of songs from the band, but after that, I went home, somewhat disgusted with the atmosphere and wondering if this is really where I wanted to be.

  Entry 4: Messed Up

  Did I mention that I am an orphan? Well, now you know. If you have lost a parent, or both of them, then you know how it feels. It’s hard. It’s a harsh reality you have to face and accept as part of your life. And although I am convinced that I did, it still left a big emotional gap in my heart. I felt like I was lacking something; perhaps I didn’t receive enough attention or love or something else.

  My parents died in a car accident. I still remember how it happened. A sudden police call, my cell phone that didn’t recognize the number, a shock, and a discovery in the hospital that there was nothing I could do to save them.

  The officers later told me it had already been too late anyway. A drunk driver had hit my parents’ car and caused them to bleed internally… so much that a few hours later, they died in front of my eyes.

  Maybe this is why I hate drinking.

  Maybe it’s why I went into nursing.

  But either way, I felt alone.

  That night—let’s jump back to the time I was released from the hospital early and offered drugs by who I assumed to be my friend—I felt lost. I was lonely and desperate. I missed my parents and lacked the self-esteem I needed to carry me through the night. So I decided to just teleport a little bit. I went from the corner of the street to the rooftop of a building to a tree branch to an industrial territory.

  Then I gave up. I was fine here. I looked at the giant tower and the buildings around it that were busy producing all kinds of chemicals. The sky was grey, the evening was gloomy. I hated life.

  Was it really going to get better? Samantha, the deceased lady told me it was going to be just yesterday. But then she died. How did her life get any better? By dying? What was the purpose of this life anyway? All these questions were plaguing my mind.

  Entry 5: The Boy

  And that is where I met him: At the industrial terrain. Weird, isn’t it? I was meant to be there. He came from a distance, with his backpack hanging on one shoulder and his jacket on the other. He had short, brown hair and his eyes were as blue as mine. He was very handsome.

  “Hi,” he said when he saw me. “What is a girl like you doing out here on her own?”

  “I am just chilling,” I said, trying to act all cool.

  “Really? But why would you do that in a boring place like this?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. What is your name? My name is Nyx.”

  “Pleased to meet you. My name is Brian.”

  I could tell by his demeanor that he liked me a little, and I was going to use it to my advantage, so I came a little closer and asked him, hitting him softly and flirtatiously on his shoulder, “So what are you doing out here then?”

  “Oh, I work here. I work nightshifts sometimes. That’s why I am so late. Let me ask you something, Nyx. How old are you?”

  “I am 21,” I said, trying to appear taller than I was. “And you, Brian?”

  “I am 24 and I am bored. Do you want to get something to drink?”

  I never wanted to say “yes” more than at that time, but because I was a little nervous, I could only stutter, “Yahah, uhuh.”

  He laughed. “That means ‘yes,’ doesn’t it?” he asked.

  “Uhm… yes. Yes it does mean ‘yes.’ The answer is ‘yes.’ I would love to get something to drink with you.”

  He could tell that I was a little fidgety. Why couldn’t I just hide it? Silly me.

  Then he looked around and noticed I didn’t have a vehicle or any kind.

  “How did you get here?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you walked all the way over here? The city is about five miles away.”

  I didn’t want to tell him about my superpowers right away, so I needed a way to talk myself out of this one. I thought and thought and noticed he got a little anxious to hear my answer. Then I had it.

  “My uncle dropped me off,” I said. “He wa
s leaving because he had to do something in the city, but he said he would be back within an hour.”

  Brian smiled again.

  “You’re a little strange,” he said.

  O-oh. That doesn’t sound very promising. What did he mean by that? Was it my purple hair? The hoody? I knew I should have taken it off. Now he was going ditch me because I didn’t show the top of my head. Why didn’t I think about that earlier?

  Then he interrupted my train of thoughts and said, “I like it. I was never into the ‘regular’ girls anyway.”

  Pfew.

  “So how about it?” he continued. “Are you willing to trust me and hold on to my waist?”

  “What?” I asked. What was he talking about?

  He walked towards a motorcycle, opened up the compartment underneath the seat and tossed me a helmet. Aha, he wanted me to join him on a motorcycle ride. Nice.

  “Of course,” I said.

  He sat on his motorcycle and started the engine. I jumped on the back, right behind him, and held on tightly. We took off and arrived at the city within a few minutes. In the process, I felt like I was in heaven, holding on to my handsome guy.

  The weeks after that were just amazing. I mean, where should I start? We went to movies, restaurants, rock cafés, nightclubs, and bowling alleys. Sometimes we just had a nice time staying together in the park and talking about life. He commented that he liked my alternative hair color and my odd way of looking at society. We just clicked. At those moments, I didn’t think my life could get any better.

  The best part about it was that he was so sweet and respectful. He never took the relationship farther than I wanted to. He always was a gentleman, opening doors for me and kissing my hand at ballroom dances. One time, he organized a surprise candlelight dinner in his backyard. It looked like a sloppy dish he had just put together quickly after coming home late from work, but I loved the thought and I started loving him.

  Entry 6: Severe Issues

  Like I mentioned, the past few weeks have been amazing, but today was not. I went to Brian’s house, as usual, and discovered his parents there. Brian didn’t look like he was in a good mood, and immediately all kinds of connotations were formed in my brain as to why. Was it something I had said? Was it the way I looked? Did he fall in love with someone else?

  “What is wrong?” I asked with a sad face. “You look upset.”

  “Let’s step into the other room for a moment,” he answered.

  “My parents think our relationship is wrong for me,” he said after we closed the door in the other room.

  “Why would they say that?”

  “They say you are riffraff from the street, that you are a bad influence on me?”

  “But why? You don’t think I am wrong for you, do you?”

  “No, it’s not that. I don’t know what their problem is, but I wanted you to know before I would blow up in their faces.”

  “Okay. I am right behind you,” I said a little scared. “Just watch your words, okay?

  “I will, but I want to say what needs to be said,” he said, after which he opened the door again.

  A blustery debate followed. I listened carefully, but I didn’t have the guts or willpower to speak up. Besides, I didn’t think it was my fight. If Brian had decided to stay with me, I wasn’t going to come in between him and his parents. I was proud of him standing up for himself the way he did, but it grieved me that they were arguing so much. His parents said I hadn’t proven myself, hadn’t finished college, and was on the path to misery, pointing at the weird way I dressed and my purple hair. Brian defended me, saying that he had never met such a caring, loving girl before, and that I accomplished a lot for someone who lost her parents and worked so hard in the nursing field.

  Still, his parents were not content. They didn’t approve of me. I almost made the mistake of trying to please them or prove myself to them. But after I thought about it for a few minutes, I concluded that it wouldn’t make any difference. They were going to dislike me no matter what I did. Perhaps time could heal their cold hearts and open their minds. But at that time, I just didn’t know how long that would take.

  The discussion ended with Brian being angry at them. His last words were,

  “Well, then I am out of here. Maybe we should not contact each other for a while until you accept my girlfriend for who she is.”

  He stormed out.

  I went after him.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I just need to be alone for a little while.”

  “Can I come along?” I asked.

  “I love you, Nyx, but I just need to cool off. So give me a half hour and I will be back with a happy attitude and a calm mind.”

  I accepted his wished, but I also had a hunch, a feeling that something bad would happen. Call it female intuition, divine intervention, or just fate; I don’t care, but whatever it was, it was real. I felt it.

  Then I saw his helmet on the sidewalk. Oh no! He forgot to put on his helmet! This could be dangerous! I had to go after him.

  Entry 7: Accident

  I just knew it. It was bound to happen. Brian was riding his motorcycle in anger, paying less attention to the traffic rules and lights while yammering about his stubborn parents. I didn’t trust it. And although I trusted him, I realized his judgment was clouded. He didn’t know exactly what he was doing. He was just upset.

  So I followed him. He didn’t know that I did, but I thought it was important, and later I would be glad that I did.

  He rode his motorbike for five or six blocks. I shadowed his travels as well as I could, teleporting from one end of the street to the other, and to the next block, and so on. Some people looked surprised, to understate it a little. But I didn’t care if something weird was unfolding before their eyes. I was going to protect my beloved boyfriend, and that was it.

  He rode around the corner. I still remember the exact moment it happened, because it felt like the whole world was going in slow-motion. I saw it before it occurred, saw it when it did, and repeated it in my mind over and over again after it had already taken place.

  A large semi truck was just backing up slowly. The driver didn’t’ see Brian, nor did Brian pay enough attention to his surroundings. With great speed, he crashed into the corner of the truck. His motorcycle got stuck and Brian hit the truck with his leg, which scraped the surface of his pants and skin. He flew through the air and was about to land head first on the pavement.

  I teleported as fast as I could and suddenly stood at the place he was about to fall.

  “Got ya!” I said as I caught him.

  “N-Nyx?” he asked. “H-how did you get here?”

  “I have a confession to make, Brian. I am an enderwoman, which means I have the special ability to teleport.”

  “Wh-what the…? What did you just say?”

  An entire explanation followed, including the one why I was at the industrial terrain by myself and didn’t have a means of transportation. We talked and talked until the ambulances arrived and put him on a stretcher. Then they took us to the hospital.

  Entry 8: Healing

  I sat there by his bedside, holding his hand and telling him that it was going to be okay.

  “I am sure it will be, knowing that you are a nurse and you are well educated when it comes to the human body.”

  “Yes, the doctors say your leg will be just fine.”

  He thanked me for coming to the rescue and apologized for his stupidity. Then his parents came in. They looked at me with tears in their eyes for a moment and stepped forward. One by one, they embraced me like a daughter.

  “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there, realizing that he didn’t have a helmet and was about to fall head first on the pavement,” Brian’s dad said. “And I don’t know how you got there so fast, but just know that we are indebted to you. We owe you and we love you. We are sorry for our condemning opinions and we ask for your forgiveness.”

 
“It’s okay,” I said. “I know I am a little odd, but I mean well. And as you can see, your son is happy with me. And that is what matters most, isn’t it?”

  They agreed.

  It was a fantastic day, despite the fact that the motorcycle ended up on the scrapheap. A life was saved, an “almost” family member was accepted, and everyone was happy.

  I knew for sure now. One great purpose I still had in life, was to serve others and help the world become a better place by helping others. My superpowers had already aided me in saving a life, and more could follow in the future.

  When I married Brian a few years later, I also knew that my ability to teleport wasn’t some random coincidence. It was meant to be. It was the only way I was able to save my future husband at the time.

  Samantha was right. My life had definitely become better. And my special power was a gift, but my gift to love those around and to care about others was just as special.

  THE END

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