# Order of the Eye: Three Students.



## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 10, 2011)

I've always liked to write and plan out grand worlds, but last month I was inspired to write a full short-story, at just under 5,000 words. It's the most I've ever written, and I planned to enter it for a short story competition that had a max at 5,000 words. But now I'm not sure if it's original enough. The background to the world I've imagined is original, but as I wrote this with an eye to being a short story, I had to be incredibly vague with anything that distracted from the progression of the plot.

Anywho, I found this forum via google, and was hoping that I could post some or all of it here and see what others think of it. Might be a bit steep to post a near 5,000 word story in one go though, so I'll just post one section of it for now:

*Order of the Eye: Three Students*
A boy with nightmares is not overly uncommon perhaps, but few dream about the Eye. The boy of this tale however, had seen it every night for a month. The eye would grow and stare all the more as each new night came. It never failed to disturb him.

As the boy was awoken in the morning, he felt ill, he felt queasy, and he felt drained, but his mother was quite old-fashioned. The boy would have to have an arm hanging off before she would concede that it would be inappropriate for him to go to school. 

He arrived late, and the first period had already started. It was to his luck that the period was with the nice and laid back teacher, who made nothing of it. The boy did not feel like socialising that day. He went off to his own table and sat alone, ignoring the calls from his friends for him to join them. He did nothing of any particular importance throughout the lesson. 
As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend. 

The nurse’s door was flung open from the other side and the boy was greeted by the sight of an old, decrepit, and severely wrinkled woman. God help the children in the younger years of his school, she’d probably give them nightmares. The clothes didn’t help much either. A black dress down to the ankles, black shoes, dark tights, black top, and a black cardigan. Anyone would’ve thought she was heading for a funeral. “Come in, come in! My you do look ill indeed! You’re so pale!!!” She said. “Quickly, you sit down on the chair my boy!” 

As she sat down at her desk, her focus suddenly shifted to the boy’s friend, “What are you doing sitting down with him?! Your friend is clearly here safe and sound, back off to class with you! You wouldn’t take advantage of your friend’s bad state-of-health to miss a lesson now would you???” she asked.
“No, of course not, just wasn’t sure if I was meant to stay and help or something.” He stammered slightly, the nurse’s harshness had made him feel uneasy.
“Help with what!? Lifting the poor boy onto a stretcher? Poppycock! Now back off to your class!” She seemed to be in a rush to get rid of him.
“Bye then! Have fun with the witch, George!” As he turned to run off back to class, George saw the nurse scour and heard her mutter something under her breath.

She turned her head back to George and put on a smile, with outstretched hands on her desk. Her fingernails were yellow and rotted it seemed. “So, George, what may I ask happened?”
“Well, I blacked out in class.” As he replied, he noticed her eyes widen.
“Hmm, noticed anything strange lately???” she asked.
“Well, not really...”
She stroked her chin slightly. It had a mole with a few long grey hairs sprouting out of it. “Tell me, George, how long have you been having nightmares???”
“Umm, and you know that I’ve been having nightmares, how exactly? And what’s that got to do with a blackout?”
“I believe I am asking the questions! Tell me, what was this dream about?” George frowned as he tried to think of a way to explain it, but the nurse was impatient, “Out with it boy!”
“Well, it’s basically just an eye I suppose.” The nurse seemed intrigued. “I’ve been seeing it every night for a while now, every time it seems like it’s slightly bigger. What, do you think the blackout was caused by a physiological problem or something? I don’t have a screw loose or nothing like that.” The nurse simply smiled and continued staring. She was silent and motionless. “Er...Nurse?” George asked uneasily. With her eyes still fixed on him, she picked up the phone on her desk. “I have the boy...” she paused and gestured with her hand at George to come over. 

He was alarmed, and the continuous eye contact of the nurse did not help to calm him. He got up and made his way over to the phone, slowly taking it out of the nurse’s hand, worrying she was going to suddenly wrap her yellow claws around his arm at any moment. “...Hello?” George said nervously.
“Hello, dear child!” said the voice. It was a woman.
George’s eyes darted to the nurse, who went to shut the door, “Just keeping the cold out boy, back to your phone call!”
“Who... Who are you, exactly?”George asked down the phone with suspicion. 
“It is complicated child, very complicated.” The voice let out a short, high pitched giggle.
“Are you a stalker or something?”
“Heavens no! I am your mentor of course!” 
“Mentor? What for?”
“Why, for your gift of course! All will be explained in due time. I’ll see you soon!”
“Well, this was a constructive phone call....” The other end had already been put down.

“George, you must come with me to the front gate, where you will be picked up by your new mentor.” The nurse said.
“What do you mean ‘picked up’?”She did not bother answering, as it was pretty obvious. George continued, “... So a strange woman I don’t know is coming to take me in her car and potentially drive me off a cliff, and I am meant to go along with the idea because she’s apparently my ‘mentor’, for a subject that I haven’t even been informed and that requires me to leave the school grounds?”
The nurse sighed, “Well, if you must see things that way... Get back to your class then, boy.” The door was slammed behind him as he left, making him jump. George had no intention of going back to class, he was determined to escape the school grounds and get to the safety of his home. He tried to phone his mother from his mobile, but to no success, as she didn’t answer. He would have to get home by foot. 

As he turned into the next road, George sped up, hoping to escape something that he was not even fully aware of. With a flash, his sight faded, he collapsed to the floor, and his brain boiled from the inside to the out. His unconscious body was carried away by a blue, old fashioned 1961 Bentley.

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EDIT: I copy and pasted the story from a microsoft word document. It _was_ seperated into paragraphs, but it seems all formatting has completely disappeared  Apologies if it's hard to read.


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## christianncg (Jan 10, 2011)

Hello there friend, saw that you wrote a critique for my work so i though i would return the favor. )
Before i start, i just wanna say that these are just opinions, and your welcome to do as you please with your writing. 

The good: My interest was caught during the end, with me being curious as to what his gift was. The story flowed quite nicely, although i noticed some unnecessary words along the way. There seems to be a good amount of room to work with when developing the story further, which is also a good thing.

Now... The Not So Good, or needs work:



> A boy with nightmares is not overly uncommon perhaps, but few dream about the Eye.



The first sentence in a story is key to grabbing the readers attention, and drawing their interest as well as striking their curiosity. I would think about revising this to something with more... pizazz, but also something that introduces the boy as George, and not just boy. maybe start off with dreaming? 



> The eye slowly grew as it gazed upon George's every move, watching him run aimlessly to try to get away.



As for the rest of the story, go through it and try to get into more depth when it comes to actions and details of places and characters. make it so that i can be in his place, and see the details myself in my imagination. if you need examples, don't hesitate to ask  

Overall good job on your first big piece


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## Johnathanrs (Jan 11, 2011)

First, this story might be better in first tense. Next, you are writing everything from a outside perspective in third past tense, but why? It's mainly about the same guy. Try to actually write a story and stay away from one line actions. 

As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend. (Stop labeling he as introductions to your sentences)​As time passed by, the classroom grew colder, the queasiness of the morning stirred. “Enter Name” did his best to simply ignore it, how he would go and fetch some coloring pencils “more description like every afternoon?” ,only to black out mid-way. This one time, he was dragged all the way to the school nurse by his peers, "You could end this here, or comma <---and add more description, exc.)


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 11, 2011)

First off, thanks for the replies, was worried that I wouldn't get any  


christianncg said:


> The first sentence in a story is key to grabbing the readers attention, and drawing their interest as well as striking their curiosity. I would think about revising this to something with more... pizazz, but also something that introduces the boy as George, and not just boy. maybe start off with dreaming?


 
Tbh, what happened with the start of my story was a huge re-edit. Orignally there was no nightmares but rather a peculiarity with his laptop (I won't go into detail). When the plotline changed I went back and chopped out most of the beggining, then I chopped the rest of it when I realised I was over the word limit (5000) lol. I like the idea of starting off from the dream itself, so I'll work with that 



> As for the rest of the story, go through it and try to get into more depth when it comes to actions and details of places and characters. make it so that i can be in his place, and see the details myself in my imagination. if you need examples, don't hesitate to ask


 
Ah, that's a big problem of mine. I can visualise what I'm writing about perfectly, but I don't like describing it. Not because I can't but because I worry the reader will tune out or think I'm going into too much detail. I'll work on it though.


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 11, 2011)

Johnathanrs said:


> First, this story might be better in first tense. Next, you are writing everything from a outside perspective in third past tense, but why? It's mainly about the same guy. Try to actually write a story and stay away from one line actions.



Funny you should say that. I started a second short story at the beginning of the month, currently at about 1,600 words. I'm writing that one in first tense, and it seems to really suit my writing style. It allows me to add a great deal more humour.



> As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend. (Stop labeling he as introductions to your sentences)​As time passed by, the classroom grew colder, the queasiness of the morning stirred. “Enter Name” did his best to simply ignore it, how he would go and fetch some coloring pencils “more description like every afternoon?” ,only to black out mid-way. This one time, he was dragged all the way to the school nurse by his peers, "You could end this here, or comma <---and add more description, exc.)


 
This part was subject to a lot of cutting if I'm honest. The word count axe fell greatest on the beginning of the story  I have about 100 words spare now though, so I'll rewrite it with your suggestions.


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 11, 2011)

*Chapter Two*
George slowly crept out of unconsciousness, finding himself lying across the backseat of the car that he had last seen. He had an inclination to scream something, the word ‘help’ came to mind, except he was too weak to utter it.

In front of George sat a second boy, who was the same age as him. The boy had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a black hoody and a pair of tracksuit trousers. Next to him, in the driving seat, was a woman. She looked like she was in her fifties, with brown curly hair topped by an extravagant pink hat with flowers sticking out of it. She was clothed in a furry pink suit.

“Did you do something to him or what?” the boy in front said.
Glancing at the mirror into the back of the car, the woman replied, “Well, I planned to knock him out of course, but this was not my doing.”
“Well what’s wrong with him then?”
“Who can say? I suppose he passed out. He’ll wake up soon enough I should think.”She slowed the car, and looked through the mirror. Her eyes glinted slightly, and moments later she pulled over to the edge of the road and stopped the car.

She spoke slowly and clearly, “I am no fool, Mr. Wilkins. You are conscious now, child! Sit up and speak!” George wasn’t sure what to do, “Time is of the essence child. Get up.” George started to pull himself upright, but he still had his eyes shut, “The eyes child, the eyes! Open them!” He slowly peeled his eyelids apart, millimetre by millimetre, until he could see the woman’s face, and a small, false smile appear upon it. “Now was that so difficult?” The boy in the front let out a relieved laugh, “Good to see you awake mate, you had me worrying! My name’s Tom. What’s yours?” George was silent for a second; he was still staring at the woman, she had the same voice as the person he had spoke to on the telephone, “Yeah, she can be a bit unnerving, but hey, what kind of teacher isn’t?”
George snapped out of it, “Err, right yeah...I’m George ... Is she...The woman I spoke to on the telephone?”
She cut in, “Indeed I am Mr. Wilkins. Please address me as either Miss or Ms. Rose. I am aware that you will have no idea what is going on, and I assure you that I shall explain in due course, though for now I shall simply say... Welcome! Welcome to the Order of the Eye. Mr. Wakefield may be able to provide some insight, though I worry if he is suitable for teaching anything...” she let out another short chuckle, like the one she did down the phone. 
“Seriously, I’ve just been kidnapped by you, and you’re trying to welcome me into god knows what, with a side of casual banter?"

Tom laughed, and then quickly wiped the smile off his face before he got into trouble. “I do not like being talked back to, Mr. Wilkins! In future, I will presume you shall show more respect for your superiors?” However valid George’s point was, she was good at making people feel small, and George could only find one word, “Sorry...” 
“We shall carry on then! I expect you both to remain silent for the remaining duration of the journey, I do not wish to be distracted while driving” The car moved back onto the road, and a clueless George wondered where it was heading.

It must have been three, maybe four o’clock in the afternoon, when the car came to a sudden stop, jolting both George and Tom out of their uneasy sleep. They had stopped outside a house. Rubbing his eyes, Tom asked, “What are we doing?”
“Why, I am collecting my third student of course! I cannot teach a mere two students!” Ms Rose replied.
“By ‘collecting’, I assume you mean kidnap, right?” George asked.
Ms. Rose was agitated, “Silence! You shall keep your judgement on my actions to yourself until you have had the situation explained, you foolish child!” She composed herself, “Besides, Mr. Wakefield came by the will of his parents, and the student we are picking up now called the Order herself. Though, I concede, her parents may cause...complications.” She paused and grabbed her handbag, taking out a pink mobile. She was looking for any new messages, and frowned as she failed to find any.

Not so far away, sitting alone on her bed and staring at her bedroom door, was a girl who was also the same age as George. She was slim, had long, silky, brown hair, and was clearly dressed for going out. She was wearing jeans and a clingy, white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it. A touch of incomprehensible arguing could be heard coming up through the floor. She heard a sudden shatter, and naturally assumed that it was her phone being smashed to pieces by her parents. Tears were gradually rolling down her face and smudging her carefully prepared image. 

Three knocks came at the front door and with it the sudden cease to her parents’ noise. The girl wanted to run to it as fast as her feet could take her, but her bedroom door had been locked from the outside. To her disappointment, her parents refused to answer the front door. Three more knocks came, they were louder this time, and a certain sense of anger was woven in with them, it was ignored yet again. A third set of knocks came at the door. Loud enough to shake the house and reduce the parents to utter terror. They continued their refusal to open it, they were perfectly aware that this person wanted to take their daughter away from them. The father crept into the hallway and armed himself with an umbrella standing next to the door, and backed up to the beginning of the staircase, where he stood guard. His wife watched from the doorway of the lounge, on the edge of a panic attack.

All was still for a second, before an almighty explosion hit the door. It stood there for a second, smoke bellowing out of its sides, and then collapsed by the father’s feet. And in the doorway, as brazen a woman you’ll ever see, stood an amused Ms. Rose. She broke the silence, “Come now, surely you did not think ignoring the door would make me go away? I am here to welcome my third student. Would either of you happen to know where she is? Locked away somewhere I presume?”
The parents stood stunned for a few seconds, before the father snapped out of it. “Get out! You have no right to come here and steal my daughter! I’ll call the police if I have too!” he shouted.
Ms. Rose stood there for a second and giggled. “You are perfectly aware that the police shall not work. Even if I did let you call them, I would be long gone by the time they got here. Now, Mr. Bellamy I presume, I would like to see your daughter. Be a dear and go fetch her for me!” 
“No! Leave my precious Amelia alone! We are her parents, and it is our right to decide whether or not she becomes a freak, which she will not!” Amelia’s mother said.

Ms. Rose turned her head round to face Amelia’s mother, and gave her a look filled with hate. “So intent on ruining the gift of others, are you? First your husband and now you wish it on poor Amelia as well? What is it, jealousy? Do you wish to spoil the fact that not everyone is pathetic, ungifted, simpletons?!” Every word was laced with spite. Amelia’s father opened his mouth to defend his wife, but he could find no words. Ms. Rose turned back to him and flared her eyes. He swiftly stepped aside and allowed her to go up, putting an arm around his sobbing, humiliated wife.

Amelia could hear footsteps approaching. She anxiously waited for Ms. Rose to reach her door. The footsteps stopped, and the handle was turned, but the door did not open, her parents still had the key. Light blasted through the edges, and the door collapsed, allowing Ms. Rose to step inside. Ms. Rose smiled, “Welcome to the order, Ms. Bellamy. I have gone to a lot of effort for you dear. Now come on, let us get out of this depressing little house.” She extended a hand to her, and Amelia grabbed it and was walked down the stairs. Ms. Rose stayed silent and allowed her parents to give Amelia a goodbye hug, they had no idea if they'd be allowed to see her again. Amelia’s mother gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead, and then let her go. She dared not try and stand in Ms. Rose’s way. As she left the house, Amelia wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad. She was gently led into the car by Ms. Rose, and was driven off while her parents stood in the doorway, in tears. George and Tom were silent.


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## christianncg (Jan 11, 2011)

Reading it now..


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## christianncg (Jan 11, 2011)

Not bad.. still a little hard to read. might wanna put spaces in between paragraphs. thats the only big thing i noticed so far.


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 11, 2011)

christianncg said:


> Not bad.. still a little hard to read. might wanna put spaces in between paragraphs. thats the only big thing i noticed so far.



Eh, same thing that happened with the first. I copy and paste it from microsoft word, and as soon as I post it the spaces between paragraphs disappear lol. I'll go through it now to put the spaces in manually.


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## fossiliferous_g (Jan 11, 2011)

Hello - 
I really liked your story so far and I'm anticipating the next part. I was wondering who your intended audience is? That's just a general question. The only comment I wanted to make is regarding your use of adjectives. I think you use too many to describe the same thing and you should intersperse them throughout the story.

For example:


> Not so far away, sitting alone on  her bed and staring at her bedroom door, was a girl who was also the  same age as George. She was slim, had long, silky, brown hair, and was  clearly dressed for going out. She was wearing jeans and a clingy,  white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it. A touch of  incomprehensible arguing could be heard coming up through the floor. She  heard a sudden shatter, and naturally assumed that it was her phone  being smashed to pieces by her parents. Tears were gradually rolling  down her face and smudging her carefully prepared image.


In this graph you use 3 adjectives to describe one thing - _long, silky, brown_ hair; _clingy,  white, plain_ top.
You tell us that she was dressed to go out but then you tell us exactly what she was wearing. Maybe you can describe her clothing and features while giving us some action, something that tells us a little bit about the character and her current state of mind. 

For instance, maybe instead of saying: "She was wearing jeans and a clingy,  white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it," you could tell us something about her, such as..."She fiddled with the zipper of her heavy jacket. She didn't know if she was going to get out of the house, but she was certainly going to try. In her jeans and t-shirt,she was ready to jump out the window if she had to."

Just a suggestion for spots to watch. Good story!


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 12, 2011)

Glad you liked it 

I don't have any particular audience in mind really, though I imagine it would fall under Young Adult. I like your suggestion about how to describe Amelia. I'll change the way I describe both her and others when I start polishing up the story again. Thanks for pointing it out. 

I'll post the next chapter later today.


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## InsanityStrickenWriter (Jan 12, 2011)

This is the last section. It'd be interesting to hear some critique on the story as a whole as well as this chapter individually btw. Any comments at all would be great though.

*Chapter Three*
They had been travelling down a motorway for quite some time, yet still none but Ms. Rose knew where they were going, and she had no intention of telling them. Amelia hadn’t said a word since leaving her home. Ms. Rose spotted a sign for a cafe, and headed down the exit. “It is time for a short break from the monotony of the road. There is a cafe here, and I feel it would be a good place to...” she felt slightly sick as she prepared to say the next word, “bond.” Ms. Rose wasn’t one for affection, not real affection anyway. She smiled often, dressed in pink always, and giggled frequently, but none of these things could take away the cold hands that so often strangled her heart. 

A tired George asked, “Err...Right... And what’s to stop me from getting someone there to call the police?” 
“Oh, indeed, you are free to attempt it, not that the attempt would be at all successful of course, and I might just have to come up with a suitable punishment if you try to do so.” Ms. Rose got out of the car and was impatiently waiting outside with Amelia, “Hurry up! We are all in dire need of fresh air!” George and Tom slowly struggled out of their seats.
As Tom stumbled out, he remarked, “Fresh air?! It’s bloody freezing cold air, that’s what it is!”
Ms. Rose snapped, “Mr. Wakefield, none of this ‘bloody’! And I shall have you know that there is much worse out there than a bit of ‘cold air’!” As they stepped inside the cafe, George had a quick look around for a telephone, but the only one in sight was behind the counter and occupied by the waitress. He could simply tell the waitress what was going on, but George had a niggling feeling that an escape from Ms. Rose would not be so simple.

They all sat down on one of the corner tables, it was cheap, plastic, and brightly painted, just like all of the other tables there. The waitress pretended not to see them. “Ms. Bellamy, perhaps now would be the time to introduce yourself to Mr. Wilkins and Mr. Wakefield?” Ms. Rose suggested. Amelia had hoped to be left alone for a while longer, but decided to put on a smile, “Hi, I’m Amelia. Sorry for being so quiet but well...”
“No worries! My names Tom, the guy to your left is George.”
“Tom, I could’ve introduced myself... Eh, anyway, before she went in to get you, Ms. Rose said you actually wanted to be kidnapped?” George asked.
Amelia laughed, “So you don’t want to learn the gift? You want to be stuck as a boring normal person all your life?”
“What gift?!”
“It’s in our eyes.” Tom replied.
“Honestly, you’re both as mad as Ms. Rose!” George remarked.
Ms. Rose frowned, “It depends how you define madness, Mr. Wilkins. From my perspective, it is a madness of yours that you fail to notice that which is inside your very own eyes!” The table fell silent as they noticed the waitress making her way over. After throwing down the menus onto the table, she hurried back to her precious phone.

Ms. Rose picked up her menu and stared at the options with distaste. It did not take long for her to come to the realisation that the cafe was completely unsuited for her culinary palette. She placed the menu back down in the middle of the table. “Well, none of that looked particularly appetising to me... Have you all decided what you plan to order???” They all nodded. Ms. Rose signalled the waitress to come back over. 

The waitress made her way as slowly as possible, probably out of spite for being dragged away from her phone again, “So, what yous all havin’?” she asked.
“Well, I was unable to make my mind up with such an...interesting menu. I was hoping you could recommend something for a woman of my character?” Ms. Rose asked. The waitress just stood there and stared for a few seconds, with a face like a sour lemon. “Burga’”, she eventually replied. Ms. Rose was not impressed, but could not find any better options so went ahead and ordered a burger out of politeness. George, Tom, and Amelia were swift to order the same thing. Once the waitress was out of earshot, George asked, “So... How many years before my family get their kidnapped son back???”

“If you must know Mr. Wilkins, your parents agreed to the whole thing beforehand. You’ll see them again soon enough, the Order is quite soft unfortunately.” Ms. Rose answered.
“Ah, I see. My parents must have simply forgotten to inform me of the agreement!”
“Seems so.” Tom joked. George was not very amused. 
“Seriously, why are you two happy to go along with this insanity?”
“To be honest, I’d rather laze about at home watching telly, but my parents insisted I join and learn how to use the gift.” said Tom. 
“There it is again! ‘Gift’! What the hell’s the matter with you people!?! I dread to think what your IQs are...”
“Well, I have a pretty good IQ actually... Just because I’m pretty doesn’t mean I have the intellect of a plank of wood! I phoned the Order myself. My parents kept it all secret from me and didn’t want me to learn. They couldn’t stop me once I found out though” said Amelia. 
“And you believed in it because...?” George asked. She did not answer, as the waitress had decided to bring their meals. She plonked the burgers onto the table and then walked off without as much as a smile. She wasn’t exactly going to win any awards for her waitressing, but at least she did the bare minimum. 

Tom and Amelia immediately began stuffing themselves with their food, while George ate at a slower pace. All the confusion and craziness of the day had removed most of his appetite. Ms. Rose, meanwhile, was staring at her burger with disgust. She eventually picked it up and manoeuvred the burger to her mouth. She took a small bite before placing it back down onto the plate and wiping her mouth with a napkin. She had no intention of eating anymore of it, and with a quiet crackle it disappeared into thin air. George stopped eating and let out a gasp. “Pardon me, but burgers are not exactly my cup of tea...” she said. A small grin cracked across her face. “How...?” George asked in puzzlement. 
“I fail to see why you are so shocked! It was a mere party trick.” she said. Amelia and Tom were laughing. Neither of them was overly surprised.

“So, you’re not all clinically insane?” George asked.
“Indeed, we are not!” she said. George was silent for a few seconds, then came up with an appropriate follow up question, “So...Why don’t you just magically teleport us to wherever it is that we are going?”
Ms. Rose laughed, “Do not be so preposterous Mr. Wilkins! Such an idea is mere fairytale...” She stopped, and her face went cold. “Actually, there is one way, but it is rather horrid...” She gave an elegant wave to the waitress, to get her to fetch the bill. “I hope you shall put more trust in me from now Mr. Wilkins!”
George did not answer, partly because the waitress was on her way back over. She gave the bill to Ms. Rose and waited. The waitress stared at the payment, there was no tip. She stood there expectantly. “You can get back to your phone call now dear.” Ms. Rose said with a giggle. The waitress watched with bitterness as Ms. Rose left with her students.

They were back on the motorway, and George felt the queasiness come back to him. “Anyone else feeling weird?” he asked.
“Not me.” Tom replied.
“Great, I’m sat next to the guy who gets car sick...” Amelia joked.
“Ahem, I do not usually allow chatter while I’m driving.”
“But miss, I think something is coming... I felt the same as I did before you kidna-“, he quickly corrected himself, “before you picked me up.” 
“Nonsense, Mr. Wilkins. I highly doubt you can sense the future any more than I can teleport.” She laughed. 
“What, so people with magic can’t tell the future either? Is making burgers disappear all that magic can do then?”
“She blew up a couple of my house doors with it” Amelia said.
“Some people can tell the future, but it is incredibly rare, and, no offence intended, but I doubt that a mere child such as yourself possesses any such-” Ms. Rose was cut short. 

“George? You all right!?” Amelia asked. She started shaking him slightly, George managed to get a sound out, but it came out as an incomprehensible groan. He had blacked out again. Ms. Rose had no time to pay any attention to him. There were police sirens behind her. She pulled over and wound her window down. Ms. Rose greeted the policeman as he approached the window, “Hello, what may I ask have I been pulled up for? I’m hardly the type to carry cocaine!” she giggled.
“Your number plate, ma’am, is pink! Are you aware that this is an offense?” the policeman asked. 
“Psh! You expect me to have one of those rather distasteful yellow or white number plates?! Whatever for?”
“It is the law...”
“I suppose you’ll want to see my driving license and take me down to the police station for questioning then? Well, unfortunately, I have rather more important things to do than waste my time talking with some halfwit policeman. I have places to be you know!”
“Ma’am, out of the car.”
“No, I don’t think I shall.” Her eyes flared and the policeman was suddenly sent flying backwards, landing on the police car’s window. She had no love for the police, and they certainly had no love for her. Ms. Rose put her foot down onto the accelerator and sped off, as the policeman’s partner rushed to call for backup and an ambulance. 

“Will he be...Alright?” Tom asked.
“Not unless I am getting rusty, and I assure you I am not!”
“So you...You killed him?” Amelia asked. She was disturbed.
“Oh my dear girl, of course I did! It was either him or us I’m afraid, can’t go having him with the memory of what we all look like.”
George had by this time recovered, “By ‘us’, you mean you. And all you would’ve needed to do was pay a fine and change the number plate or something... But instead you murder him, in cold blood.” said a disgusted George.
“Ah, lovely to see you’re back to your normal self Mr. Wilkins. Now before you make your foolish assumptions, let me just inform you that the police are not as innocent as you think they are! Mr. Wakefield I am sure would have been told by his parents, and I warned Amelia of it back when I first contacted her by phone, so this explanation is purely for your benefit!” she paused, and parked the car at the edge of the road. “Err, Miss, shouldn’t we keep driving? The police will be looking for us ya’know.” Tom asked worriedly.

“Oh, I know Mr. Wakefield.” Her eyes flared, and to any outside eyes, the car had by all accounts disappeared. “The car shall no longer be seen, you may put your fears to rest I believe. Now, Mr. Wilkins, describe what a policeman’s job is for me please.”
“Umm... To uphold the law I guess.” George said.
“Correct! And who makes the laws?”
“The government” 
“Also correct! But who controls the government?”
George thought for a moment, “The people?”
“Wrong!” Ms. Rose said in a harsh tone. “There are people out there, Mr. Wilkins, who are beyond even the wildest of conspiracy theories. They have pure hatred for our Order. Certainly, anything magical in the slightest is to meet a gruesome end should they find it, the Order of the Eye is not a secret organisation for the sake of it after all. There is a reason why we must be so careful. Have you never wondered who started the witch hunts of the past?”

Two police cars flashed past with sirens wailing. “My apologies Mr. Wilkins but the rest of the explanation shall have to wait. I would like to be away from this place before they send a helicopter.”
“Why, what would the helicopter do?” Amelia asked.
“The enemies of the Eye have developed all sorts of technologies to find us, Ms. Bellamy. Besides, we’re running late.”
“For what?” Tom asked.
“I do not like odd numbers, Mr. Wakefield.”
The invisible car disappeared over the horizon, and onwards.


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