Lesson 74- Everything is better with good teamwork.

The next few days pass quickly. I work, I hang out with Torin and I spend a ridiculous amount of time writing out explanations to my brother in every shade of ink I can imagine. My explanations swap from being one sentence ideas to entire letters. Eventually the letters change into something more like a journal or diary. I write out everything that’s happened to me, everything I’ve seen and all the people I’ve met. Especially Torin. I write about Torin a lot. He’s so confusing. Honestly he’s the part of this that I’m having the most trouble finding a way to tell my brother about. I can tell him that someone was chasing me, I can tell him someone trashed my place. I can tell him that Torin offered me a place to hide out and a job since I couldn’t safely go to mine. I don’t have an answer for why I can’t leave, or why I haven’t had my phone. But mostly I can’t explain my friendship with Torin. How can I explain to him why I trust this random guy so much? Why I let him help me but didn’t go to my own brother for help. The brother who practically raised me. Nothing I can come up with makes sense. Mostly because the situation doesn’t make sense. If I had the chance, I WOULD have gone to my brother for help. He’s always the first person I turn to. I’m getting more and more frustrated by it all. To be honest, it’s making me kind of cranky. This wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. I wanted to write out the perfect explanation, show Torin and get my phone back as soon as possible. Instead, I’m spending every free moment I have trying to figure out the right thing to say.

I’ve just finished up a shift and Jane is happily eating while I sit in the patch of sunshine by the front door and scribble mindlessly in my sketchbook. Torin sighs when he sees me with it again.
“I know you want to figure out something to tell your brother, but you’re spending a lot of time on it. I’m… Worried.” He tells me, his tone gentle. I raise an eyebrow.
“Worried?” I prompt and he shrugs. A moment later he drops down to sit on the floor beside me, his back up against the door.
“Yeah. I’m worried. You look tired. Have you been sleeping?” he asks and I shrug.
“I sleep.” I answer vaguely.
“But how much? You’re always awake when I get here, and awake when I leave. I don’t know how long you’re staying up, but you’ve filled half that book with writing in just a few days so it must be a fairly long time.” He points out. Damn him for being so observant. I sigh.
“I just want to be able to talk to him again. I’m going to figure this out.” I tell him, determined.
“I understand. Just… Take care of yourself. I don’t have enough friends to risk you working yourself to death.” He jokes and I smile weakly.
“I’ll be fine.” I promise. Torin looks me straight in the eye.
“Get some sleep. Please?” He is practically pleading with me. Looking into his eyes I can’t help but nod my agreement. Torin smiles brightly. Then he gets to his feet and holds a hand out to help me up. He pulls me up with one big tug which makes me stumble into him. He steadies me and I let out a huge yawn. Maybe he has a point about me being tired after all.
“Off to bed with you.” He prompts, leading me towards my room. I let him pull me along. I sit on my bed and yawn again. Torin slips my sketchpad slash notebook out of my fingers and then lightly strokes a hand over my hair, pushing it out of my face.
“Sleep.” He insists again. Then he steps away and carefully places my book on my shelf, tucking it away safely. The pen he returns to its place of honour on my dresser.
“Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll get changed and go to bed. You can go home and get some sleep. I promise I’ll go straight to bed.” I tell him honestly. He nods, apparently satisfied with my answer and then he leaves me be.

I wait until I hear the back door lock, then I get up and change into pyjamas, a cute set of shorts and a tank top. I’m about to climb into bed when I spot my large sketchbook, the one I put out every morning for the sprites. Shoot, I haven’t done that yet. With a groan I grab the sketchbook and head out to the bar. I’m flipping through the used pages to find a blank one when a shadow at the window gets my attention. Mostly because I pay so much attention to what little sun I do get, that the slightest thing blocking it draws my attention. Is someone standing by the door? Surely they know we’re closed. I don’t know any bar that would be open at this time of the day. Sure enough, the front door rattles as if someone is trying to get in. I step forward and knock on the door.
“We’re closed!” I call out loudly. The shaking stops and I nod satisfied. Until I realise the shadow over the window hasn’t gone away. Whoever is out there is still standing there. I frown and take a step back. Why aren’t they leaving? A moment later the rattling starts again, but it’s louder. They shake the door harder. Clearly they aren’t taking no for an answer. Well, they can shake the door all they want, it won’t open. It’s locked AND Laura put some ward spell thing on it. There’s no way someone could get through there. Unless they were a dwarf like Kyle and immune to magic. But from what I understand dwarves are pretty rare around these parts. Still, I can’t bring myself to look away from the shadow at the window. I listen to the door rattle harder and harder. Then all of a sudden there is a bright light outside. Brighter than the sunlight was, and weirdly coloured, sort of greenish. Something is happening out there. I stare in fascination as the door handle literally begins to melt. Shit. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not so sure that Laura’s spell is going to hold after all. I run out the back and realise that whatever is being done to the front door, it’s happening to the back door too. Shit, shit! I can’t stay here. I need to hide. But where? I don’t get time to think. The back door knob drops to the floor with a clattering sound and the door opens. The guy on the other side looks totally normal. Human even, except for the glowing green light that is emanating from what looks like a lighter. What is that, a magical mini blowtorch? But I don’t have time to think about it. I turn and run back to the bar. Maybe the front door held? It’s my only hope because I have nowhere else to run. If the magically warded doors can’t keep them out, then the normal doors out here won’t do anything. The guy steps inside and I can hear his footsteps as he chases me down the hall. I slam the bar door in his face and hold it shut with my back. He keeps trying to push it open and I won’t be able to hold it for long. I turn to look at the front door, the door is bigger and heavier and the handle is obviously holding up better, but even from here I can tell that it has almost had it. Whoever is out there will be inside any moment now. I need to escape, to hide. Or find a weapon. Something, ANYTHING.

I’m panting heavily, trying to work out what to do, where to go, when a creaking sound draws my attention. Jane’s trap door has cracked open.