The Impossible (Book 1 of the Impossible trilogy)

Chapter 1: Mystery Boy

It all started on a hot day at Oswego High School. I was sitting in my desk waiting for an important announcement. The clock ticked and ticked, yet it seemed as if the two o'clock announcement would never come. My nerves were so on edge as it was. This was my chance to get to show people that I'm not a person with a boring, anti-social disposition, but a person who has a passion to sing. Someone who wants to share how she feels about music through the words and lyrics she sings. I think that was pretty passionate, if I do say so myself.

With my thoughts in all over, I about jump out of my seat when I hear a ding from the intercom. A kind sounding women comes through the speaker saying, "All contestants for the school singing qualifier please head for the auditorium at this time. Teachers, there is a roster of those who are participating in your emails. Thank you!" My teacher checks the roster and calls out Fiera Cloak. Thrilled, I jump up and gather all my books and my iPad and head out to the door. As I run out of the room, my classmates cheer me on by saying good luck, which shocks me so much I stop in the middle of the hall. That's a first! Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a familiar girl heading my way. Now there's someone I'd expect them to say that to. My best friend! Ok, only friend! Astrid Harvest!

Astrid is a blonde-headed, blue-eyed girl who has skills and looks that could attract ANY boy. She could play volleyball, write a speech in ten minutes and have it memorized in five, lead the whole school into a well organized group just by enthusiasm alone, and has the whole community's support in anything and everything. You name it, she could do it. I, on the other hand, am the total opposite. My only good traits would possibly be my ability to be the only one who actually listens to the teacher during a lecture, as well as being able to be quiet for two seconds. And compared to how Astrid looks, I am, for sure, the total opposite. I'm not saying I look bad or anything, I guess not many boys at my school like a girl with black hair, green eyes, and wears a sweatshirt and pants all the time. Now that think about it, no wonder I can't get a boyfriend.

Anyway, speaking of Astrid. "Fiera," called Astrid while walking up to me.

"Hey, Astrid, how have you been? I haven't seen you around very much. What have you been up to?" I ask. Did I mention that because of circumstances, me and Astrid are not as close, and we hardly get to talk. Makes for awkward conversations.

"Good, I guess. I've been pretty busy with helping the art club with the community mural." She replies. "What about you?"

"Oh, just the same old, same old." We stand there thinking for a couple seconds, then I backtrack and say, "Actually, I'm participating in the singing qualifier for state today."

"That's good!" Again we stand there trying to find something to say to each other. Come on, Fiera, think of something!

"I bet your biological parents and Josh would have loved to hear you sing." Astrid says suddenly. This stops my train of thought, and I just stare at her for a minute or two. I'm not for sure what I feel about that comment. If I feel anything towards it, I'd say I feel kind of hollow, I guess. My heart wrenches with the tumult of emotions. Finally, I manage to reply with a simple yeah.

Seeing that what she said made me a little upset, Astrid started to try to cheer me up, but before she could, Mrs. Hall opens up her door to her classroom and sees me and Astrid.

"Oh," Mrs. Hall stutters in surprise, "Astrid, what are you doing out here? You should be in the art room right now."

"Sorry Mrs. Hall," Astrid apologizes. Mrs. Hall just looks over me and closes the door while making the sound "humph."

I look to Astrid and say, "Well, um, I better get going. Wish me luck!" I turn my back to her and open the door. She replies with a little good luck, and I close the door behind me.

. . . . . .

It was almost my turn to go on stage. When I walked into back stage, I noticed how much competition and variety of competition I had. There was the popular's, the gleeks, the goths, the unpopular's, and much more. This made me nervous, though I'm not the only one. Everyone was on edge, glancing at the each other, sizing them up. It was nerve racking.

That isn't the only thing that's making me nervous. Oddly, I feel like someone is watching me. Well, duh, Fiera! Of course people are watching you, like you just literally thought. But this feels different. It's like I'm being picked out personally. Like how you feel when someone stalks you, I guess.

To make sure I'm not just being paranoid, I peek out from behind the curtain and look around. I don't notice anyone particularly looking at me, so I calm myself by saying it's just nerves, taking deep breaths.

I don't get much time to soak this in when my name is announced to go on stage. I walk up to the curtain and out onto the big, black stage, were the microphone is standing in the middle of the stage. There's a couple minutes of silence as the tech people prepare the music. I feel like I'm going to run off the stage, if they don't hurry. Come on what's taking so long!

Finally, I hear the music and I start to sing "All I Want to Do" by Sugarland.

"I don't want to get up baby lets turn off the phone."

"I don't want to go to work today, or even put my makeup on."

"I got better things to do then my to-do list anyway."

"Hide-"

Thats when I start having, what I'm just going to call, a stalker-ish feeling. I ignore it for a little while, but the feeling gets is starting to get so intense that I have to look around. Observing the crowd, I see no one that looks like a stalker. Of course, who knows what a stalker looks like?

"Looking at you looking at me is the only thing that matters."

The stalker-ish feeling is starting to get irritating, I think as I feel myself loosing focus. When I've had enough, I look around again, bound and determined to find who's stalking me. After more intense scanning, I notice a lone figure in the far right hand doorway from me. It looks like a male, about my age, with torn up jeans and a black sweat shirt. Just by looking at him, I just know he's the one stalking me. And he's not from our school, I'm sure of that. I could confirm this if only he didn't have his hood up.

That's when I notice I had been so focused on finding the stalker, that I wasn't paying any attention to my singing. I look at the crowd and see there disappointed faces. I messed up my song!

"Baby all I want to do-"

Defeated, I look around again to see if the guy was there anymore, but he wasn't. Did I imagine him? That can't be right! I was for sure...

Finally, I finish the song. I don't wait for an applause, if I get one. All I manage to do is run off stage, off back stage, and through the doors into the hot, dry day.

---------------It might be a while till I write chapter two, since I'll have less time with school starting. I thank all those who have read what I've written so far. Next chapter will be up ASAP. Thanks!--------------