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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1887959
A curfew is in place to protect the people you love
         Kelly ran through the streets, her bright red hair was flying behind her. Kelly needed to get home; there was no question about that. As she ran she saw people closing their curtains, hiding in the darkness of their own houses. The sun was just above the horizon; slowly making it’s way past the earth to light up somewhere else. The colours of the world were gradually changing. Oranges and pinks were everywhere making the world look as if fairies had come and paint the town in these relaxing colours.



         Kelly did not enjoy these colours, in fact these were her least favourite colours. She had finally made it back to the street in which she lived and was racing the clock to be back at the house.



         Not even thinking, Kelly slammed the door behind her, safe.

“Where the hell were you?” Her mother’s scream almost drowned out the sound of the bell chiming.

Kelly looked at her mother. Plain brown hair curled and placed purposefully on her shoulders. Bright red lips, huge diamond earrings and slate grey eyes that were focused so much Kelly thought they might spin out of control at any minute.

“You could have been killed and then what would happen to the reputation that your father has built for us?” Kelly wasn’t really registering the words coming out of her mother’s mouth but she did notice her mother never used her father’s name or even used the word Dad. It was just too common for her.

“I am sorry, mother.” Kelly said quickly in the hopes to quell the shouting match that was sure to follow. She dropped her keys in the small bowl that stood by the front door and turned to face her mother but she had already disappeared.



         Kelly turned and took off her shoes, leaving them in a neat arrangement by the front door. The room, which the door opened to, was huge, a lounge sat in the middle facing the TV, which was not modest in size, on the opposite wall. Art hung from all the walls and the flowers changed everyday. It was big and roomy but the house never looked used. It was for show. Guests would often only make it to this room, which screamed money. Her parents were big on imagery, theirs’ in particular. The staircase was on the very right of the room. Carpeted in a creamy white colour that stained so easily Kelly had never been able to even go near them with food as a child. This is the path she took, moving quickly up them to be sure not to run into her mother again, her bag still on her back.



         Kelly’s room was smaller than any other room in the house, even smaller than the bathrooms. (Which wasn’t actually saying anything as the bathrooms were bigger than most people’s living rooms.) A single bed lay in the middle of the right wall. A wooden frame and grey covers draped over it. The wall opposite the door had a window and underneath it was a large chair also grey in colour. To the left of the chair a violin case stood up against the wall from when Kelly’s parents, in the attempt to make her more lady like, made her take lessons. She had never been any good and got expelled from several music schools due to bad behaviour. On the left wall there was a large dresser, the top was clear from all accessories that should be in tangles and falling off it like a normal teenaged girls would have. Kelly placed her bag underneath the dresser after she unpacked the books from that day’s classes and packed the ones she would need for tomorrow. Next to the dresser was a closet, elegantly carved and delicately handled. Finally on the wall the door was placed were two bookshelves. Each book neatly placed and fitted into the shelves, on display for the world to see. This was her favourite part of the room; so many times Kelly had lost herself in the details of each book and their characters that were so much more interesting than any person she had ever met.



         Kelly pulled off the school uniform, placing it in the laundry basket that occupied a small corner of the closet, and pulled on jeans and a black sweater. She moved over to the dresser where she sat and took a moment to look at the person staring back at her. Bright red hair pulled back save for a few pieces that framed her face and slate grey eyes, inherited from her mother, stared back at her, expressionless.



         As she pulled a black band from her hair Kelly thought about the trouble her hair had gotten her into. Ever since she started going to school people would be both awed and scared of her hair. It was an unnatural shade of red but to Kelly it was natural, her kind of natural. She remembered this one time where a group of kids in grade six had bullied her about it and she had beaten them all up. When her parents got the call they were furious, her father had slapped her several times and her mother had banned her from her books. She was so upset she cried herself to sleep. Then she had been told to dye her hair a different colour because it attracted unwanted attention from them.



         These people were called ‘People of the Night’ or more commonly called ‘Nightwalkers’ by the general public. They were on the news almost every night for something bad. ‘Child killed’, ‘Fathers mutilated’ and ‘We need to Fight Back’, were all common headlines. Some reports told of horrible tortures that people endured at the hands of the Nightwalkers. Even though her hair had never attracted any of them to date there was always that question lingering in the back of her head.



         Kelly’s parents had forced her to take etiquette lessons, how to hold your knife, how to drink your water, how to eat your soup. All pointless things that she only ever used at home, in front of her family. She was taught to be a lady, which involved no fighting. However the fact that she had fought and won against many groups that were bulling her carried through to high school and many of the names that were given to her stuck.



         Now dark outside Kelly figured it must be time for dinner. She closed the book in her hands, placed it neatly back on the bookshelf in it’s place and turned off the light. Then she made her way back down the carpeted staircase and through the large living room to the door on the opposite side. The door that lead to the dining room was dark and heavy looking. Kelly opened the door to candlelight. There were candles standing on the main table and also on small tables spread throughout the room. In the candlelight, the colour of the walls shifted from light browns of the early morning deserts, to the dark colours of mud in the shadows of the mangroves. A maid in a plain black dress shifted out of the room in the attempt to seem invisible to the ‘masters’ of the house. Her mother was sitting at one end of the table, white blouse and pearls making her look very formal for a family dinner.

“How was your day?” She asked Kelly as their dinner was placed in front of them. It was some fancy looking meat, drowned in sauce with undercooked vegetables. It was so colourful, like a rainbow on a plate.

“Well thank you mother.” Kelly replied casually but formally at the same time. She needed to get the right amount of both to avoid further questions from her mother. It sort of worked.

“That is good. Your father will be back in a week so please have something good to inform him.” She said then put the smallest amount of meat in her mouth, it would take her and hour to finish her meal. Kelly took larger mouthfuls that were still small enough to be considered polite. She finished her meal quickly and excused herself, still uncomfortable being within a fifteen metre radius of the woman that gave birth to her.



         A loud buzzing noise woke Kelly from her sleep. She was not impressed and it took all her will power to refrain from throwing it against the opposite wall. A hand pressed the button the noise stopped. Sighing Kelly slipped out of the bed and looked at the clock. 7 o’clock on the dot. Not Kelly’s favourite time of the day. She made the bed, slowly, methodically. It was one of the morning rituals that had been ground into her as a child. She grabbed the uniform that was hung on the door of her wardrobe. It had been dry cleaned and pressed so there were no creases.



         Kelly pushed open the bathroom door, the ornate, silver knob cold to touch. Inside the room was decorated with an ocean theme. A jar of seashells sat on the white counter that continued into the sink. Fluffy blue towels hung on a rack next to a shower that was big enough to lie down in. The bath had twenty different soaps and bubble baths lined up against the wall, so many different scents and colours. Kelly went through the process of cleaning herself in an order just as she had done for years.



         Kelly placed her bag at the front door to pull on her shoes. She took a quick look over her shoulder, nothing in this house ever made her feel like she was at home. Nothing here made her feel the way they described it in all the books she had read. This house was a show, a front. Nothing deeper. Her mother who was still asleep upstairs was supposed to say goodbye to her at the door, handing her the lunch she had forgotten. Her father was supposed to make idle threats about any boy she brought home. Cosy is what it should have been, cosy was the dream family. Kelly’s family was no dream family.



         Mr. Downie, Kelly’s teacher, stood at the front of the classroom. He wasn’t that old but the grey hair, neatly combed back, the huge glasses that made him look bug eyed and the dress pants, collared shirt and tie made him look that way. The class was small, only fifteen students. In fact they were the top fifteen students in the year, all crammed into one classroom. Three rows of five desks lined up perfectly in front of the large whiteboard. Kelly sat in the back left corner. Looking perfectly alert, Kelly nodded as Mr. Downie spoke.  It was some kind of lecture about Australian history, early history. The main topic: the stolen generation.



Lunch was an interesting affair. Kelly sat under a huge tree. No one ever bothered her, her previous reputation and her new reputation mingled together. The crazy girl who would beat up anyone and the smart young lady, to up herself to even bother trying to be nice. Neither of them were someone that anyone wanted to get close to. The large tree was the closest to west side of the school. It was quiet and desolate. Unfortunately the children of the night were also located on the west side of the school. Felicity, a blonde haired, blue eyed rich kid, always followed by a small group of girls that just wanted to be popular, decided it was time to stir up some trouble. She was always teasing some poor kid and now she was going to mess with the children of the Night. Not the best idea in the world.



         A girl was talking with a boy; she had silver coloured eyes and dark brown hair. The boy had black hair and sapphire coloured eyes, sparkling like the sun shining off the water. Felicity and Abigail, her ‘friends’, moved over to them.

“Hey Nighties, what are you doing?” Great just what Kelly needed. A loud confrontation to throw her off her thoughts about-

“Yeah, you look like you need something to do.” Abigail said, following Felicity’s lead, like a sheep following another sheep.

“What are you doing on our side of the school?” the girl said, the boy moved behind her like she was a shield.

“Please, who said you owned this side of the school?” Felicity spat back, smirking.

“This is where we take classes, therefore this is our side of the school.” The girl stood her ground. It was like watching two lionesses facing each other, neither backing down, both with a huge amount of pride and both with the stubbornness of a bull.

“Maybe you should go and check because I was told this is a free country and we can go where ever we want.” Felicity said moving past the girl, who decided that Felicity had pushed the wrong buttons. A fist flew and hair was pulled. The guy had backed off and Abigail also had stepped back, not wanting to get involved.



         A boy pulled apart the two girls, earning a scratch for the effort.

“What the hell Lacora?” the guy asked. She stepped back, her black hair ruffled. The new guy on the scene had black hair, slightly long and shaggy. He had his back turned to Kelly, she was slightly curious but not enough to stick around and watch Felicity lose it over a broken nail or something. She moved quickly, picking up a chicken sandwich and a book bag. She glanced back at the scene, the three night children now out numbered the girls. They were backing off, lioness two takes the victory for today but who knows what would happen in the next round? Kelly wasn’t going to wait and see. She left and moved quickly back to the classroom, class was going to begin and soon.



         The most interesting thing that Kelly had seen in the past few days was the racket that Felicity had made. Now sitting in the back of the classroom Kelly was completely ignoring the teacher. She was reading a small book, bright blue cover and no title. It looked tattered as if she had read it a million times, which she had. She took comfort in the familiar characters, the way they acted and reacted. It was so familiar she could predict how these characters would react in a situation that was not included or even similar to those in the book. This was the place where she felt comfortable, a world that was confined between the two covers of a book.



         Kelly didn’t know what but something woke Kelly out of her little trance. Mr. Downie was standing at the front of the class, saying words that shocked Kelly more than she was willing to say.

“You are going to be paired with a Child of the Night.” Most of the class froze in their seat. Felicity looked like she had been hit by lightning, a mix of shock and horror filling her face. Kelly, under no circumstances, wanted to be paired with anyone that could prove to be problematic. She had no issues with the people themselves; just their reputation preceded them.

“Once a term, as decreed by the headmaster, you will participate in a group task with the Children of the night in an assessment task. No discussion.” Of course Felicity went on a long rant about how they could not force her, and how the school would hear from her father. No one paid any attention. Instead they passed around a list of names, the pairings were already predetermined.



         A knock at the door of the classroom brought the class to silence. Mr. Downie took a second before he answered it.

“Now everyone behave yourselves,” a meaningful look was directed at Felicity, “This will be Mr. Greenwood, the teacher of the Night class. Act nice and remember that this task is meant to improve relations between the races.” Mr. Downie opened the door of the classroom.



         In walked a tall young man. His hair was black and fell down just past his shoulders and his eyes were a bright violet. His eyes sent chills down her spine and when he looked around the room Kelly’s eyes dropped to the blue book in her hands.

“Good morning, my name is Mr. Greenwood. I am the teacher for the Night class. Now I am told you are aware of the joint task. My class should all be joining us soon however you never know with a bunch like them.” Mr Greenwood smiled a smile that took most of the girls’ breath away. Kelly watched as they fidgeted looking at each other, not being able to wait to talk about this teacher and thinking how someone so civil could be a Nightwalker.  “Oh and by the way, there are sixteen in my class so one of you will be paired with an extra person. Good luck.” Mr. Greenwood continued with his dazzling smile, staring at the class members.



         The list had finally reached the person next to Kelly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the boy, (what was his name again? Mark? Matthew? Martin? ) look tentatively at her. Kelly rolled her eyes internally and reached across pulling the paper of his desk with a flourish. Her eyes darted across the paper as she scanned for her name. All the children of Night had been dumped in one class and stuffed on the north end of the school, furthest from the entry, in the attempt to get them to keep to themselves and also to hide them from the public’s eye. This was one of the reasons Kelly was confused about the new regime the headmaster put in place.



         Finally finding her name, Kelly read, hoping that there would only one name next to hers. With her luck it was likely she would be the only person stuck with two of the nightwalker children. Kelly crossed her fingers reading the printed text: Joshua. 

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