1 Prologue | The Beginning

THE BOY

Food poisoning. That was what Max had been telling himself the last three days. It's what he'd convinced himself, because there was no legitimate explanation for what he just saw. The vivid image plagued his mind; it wouldn't go away. Why wouldn't it go away? The black. It seemed to consume anything it touched. The blue veins branched out, as if sucking out the life within her. He was afraid to touch it, but he was more afraid for her. What would happen to her?

He had to step away for a second— retrace his footsteps. He thought over the last three days: when it all started.

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"I'll go fetch some flowers for you, yeah?" Max said with a smile, ruffling the top of his sister's long blonde hair, making her laugh.

She showed him her messy drawing of a blue flower. Holding it close to her brother's gentle face, she gave him a toothy grin. "Blue ones, please."

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face. On his way out of the cabin, he grabbed a small shovel and a pair of gloves. They were a considerable few sizes too small for his large hands, but would have to do. He placed the shovel in his back pocket, but was afraid it would knock against the glass jar, meant for the flower, he had placed in his bag.

Summer had only now begun, but the heat was already at its worst. Max rubbed his forehead with his gloves. He wanted to get this over with soon; the heat was making him breathless.

He continued to walk until he made it to the forest, feeling lucky it was only half a miles walk from his house. He really wasn't feeling up for a twenty minute walk in the blistering heat, although his body could greatly benefit from a workout.

The forest separated his family's cabin from the others. It was vast; many could get lost with ease if they didn't know their way around.

Max pulled the shovel out from his pocket and began his long search.

His younger sister loved flowers. Every time he got home from school, he always found another flower drawing pinned on her wall. Most of the flowers were different colours like red and orange, but her favorite colour was blue.

Unfortunately, he never saw blue flowers in the forest. But he always tried his best to look for them, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do, which at the moment it was.

He had just gotten home from his best mate, Declan's, house. He was not in the mood to go exploring in a forest for some silly blue flower he had never seen. But no one could ever say no to his sister's begging green eyes— including him.

Max stopped walking and sat down. The grass underneath him was still wet from the previous day's rain. He removed the gloves and placed them next to him. He desperately wished for rain, at least then he wouldn't have to burn and suffer under the unforgivable sun.

The only positive of these daily searches was the tan he got. He was lucky enough to tan with ease. His former pale complexion was now a light shade of brown with many tan-lines.

The heat was really starting to get to him now. He brought his hands to his damp forehead and rubbed the sweat off it once more. When I get back to the cabin, he muttered to himself, I am definitely going to take a long cold shower.

Max stood up and grabbed his gloves and shovel. It would do him no good to sit around in the heat, complaining and making pointless wishes.

He felt some relief as he walked under the blanketed protection of the wooded forest. From time to time he made sure to look down at the path. He was worried he might trip over the many large roots growing from the trees. He didn't let this distract him from his goal, though. Small creeks ran through the wooded area. The bed of these creeks was where most of the flowers grew, so he kept an eye out for any flower that looked blue.

On a good day, he would watch the frogs jump from rock to rock, and the fish travel down through the water. When he was younger, he attempted to pet the fish, but they always swam away.

Max paused for a moment to better hear the sounds of nature that surrounded him. He listened for the slight cries of animals and the sound of the water flowing over the rocks. Getting his bearings, he turned toward the mouth of the creek.

He noticed one that had gone stagnant. It had a mass of flowers growing along the sides. A closer look came up empty; none were blue. Max sighed in defeat— another day of hopeless searching. To top it off, he would have to deal with the sad look on his sister's face later. Such a simple task, and he'd failed.

Max was on the verge of giving up when he noticed a flower that appeared blue. He frowned. It could just be the lighting. After all, the flower was in the shade. But his curiosity took hold of him and he stepped closer to the flower. He leaned down for a better look.

It was blue.

He smiled with a sense of accomplishment. A relieved sigh was all the self-praise he could muster for his discovery.

With gloves on both hands, Max gently inserted the shovel into the wet dirt. With care, he pulled the flower from the ground and placed it in the jar.

Feeling happy that he no longer would be in the blistering heat, he wasted no time getting home.

"Emily!" He threw the cabin door wide open.

Emily came running to the door, confused as to why he screamed.

Max held the jar that contained the blue flower triumphantly. Emily noticed the blue flower and beamed.

"You found one!" She jumped up and down, and reached for the flower.

He pulled the jar from her reach and gave her a serious look. "What do you say?"

"Thank you," she said with a sheepish grin. She hugged him, then snatched the flower from his hand. Max laughed to himself as she ran into her room and slammed the door.

He took off his gloves, and placed them on the table, and then walked to his room. He wasted no time in getting in the shower. He felt much better once the cold water hit his skin.

After his shower, he brushed out his thick hair. Blonde chunks fell over his eyes; he was due for a haircut. His mother preferred it long. She thought he had such pretty hair. He didn't think so.

Max always preferred shorter hair because it showed his eyes. He always thought his green eyes were his best feature.

Having enough of his reflection, Max turned away from the mirror. He had always been insecure about his appearance; his gluttonous trait didn't help at all. It only added to his list of insecurities. At night, he would find himself eating away at his problems. The results of over-eating would scream at him, as if to remind him that he was disgusting and fat.

He picked up his clothes and threw them on in a haste. He had to pull his shirt down with a bit of force since he was still wet.

Max stopped when he heard a few knocks on the door.

"Yes?" he called out with impatience.

"Your father and I just got home from work. Could you help make dinner?" his mother said.

He opened the door. "I don't think I can. I have a lot of homework that I need to finish."

His mother nodded and walked over to the kitchen. Max watched as she pulled out pans and ingredients and wondered what they were going to make.

Emily ran out and hugged their mother and father. "Can I help?" Her green eyes were wide open with a pleading look. Their parents could never say no to her when she had that look in her eyes. With reluctance, they nodded and handed her a few ingredients.

Max returned to his small room and made his way to his cluttered desk. He never kept up with his things, tossing them wherever. He pushed the clutter to the side of his desk to make room for his math homework.

Time seemed to have drifted, and before Max knew it, he yawned as he scribbled down the final answer. He knew his family would be asleep by now and that the food was cold. Instead, he grabbed himself a bowl of cereal. His eyes scanned the kitchen as he ate. His growling stomach wasn't satisfied. He let out a frustrated groan and resisted the urge to grab more food.

He thought of the students at his school, the way they told him on a daily basis to starve himself or try a salad for once. In the past, he'd gone without food on purpose. But when the hurtful words start to get to him— clawing at him— the only thing that brought comfort was food.

His eyes fell onto his bowl of half-eaten cereal. He knew he shouldn't, but he was still hungry. He swallowed the lump of guilt resting in his throat and quickly finished his cereal and got ready for bed.

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Max woke up feeling groggy, and gave his eyes a good rub. They refused to open. He squinted and turned on his lamp. After a minute of laying in bed, he let out a yawn before he got up to grab some breakfast.

It didn't take long for him to notice how eerily quiet the house was.

He stood still and hoped to hear his parents arguing or his sister playing with her treasured dolls. It was late in the morning and his family were quite the early risers.

Max gave his sister's bedroom door a gentle knock before walking in. To his surprise, Emily was still sound asleep.

This is weird, he thought to himself. His sister was always the first to be up, no matter how late she went to bed.

Max heard movement coming from her bed and thought it was best to leave until he heard her voice. "I don't feel so good," Emily mumbled. Max turned to see his sister slowly sitting up. Emily's tangled hair fell over her face, but she didn't push it away from her eyes.

This is even weirder, he thought. She always got annoyed when her hair got in her face.

"You might have a fever," he suggested. He had always been a germaphobe and kept a distance between them. "I'll go get Ma, yeah?" He smiled, opening the door.

Emily nodded then looked away.

Max quickly got his mother who had just woken up. He didn't see his father which meant he had already left for work.

His mother stood up from her bed. With a gentle hand, she touched her forehead. She let out a groan, not noticing Max who stood in the doorway.

"You okay, Ma?" He asked in a low voice. His mother had to hold onto the bed frame to keep her balance.

She smiled. "Just a little lightheaded is all." She stumbled towards him. "What did you need?"

He looked up at his mother. "Emily doesn't feel good. I came to ask if you could take her temperature." He pointed towards his sister's bedroom door.

His mother nodded and made her way over. Max followed after her. Being cautious, he didn't go in. Sickness, for him, was a rarity. He thought it over and could remember being sick only three times.

Max's mother sent him to get a thermometer. He returned and passed it to her, then retreated to the doorway. His mother placed it under Emily's tongue. After a moment, she pulled it from her daughter's mouth and frowned.

"What is it?" Emily questioned, after she noticed the puzzled look on her mother's face.

"It's just the temperature says you're perfectly fine." Max's mother stared at the temperature, as if trying to make sure she was reading it right. She touched Emily's forehead, periodically moving her hand around. "Do you feel alright?"

Emily shook her head. "No, I feel really sick."

"Maybe we should go to the doctor about it," Max suggested. He was still in the doorway.

His mother stood up and nodded her head. "I'll go schedule a checkup. Why don't you two get ready?" She walked out, leaving them alone.

He thought nothing of it. "Don't worry Emily. It's most likely mild food poisoning. I'm the only one who didn't eat dinner and I'm fine. Everything is going to be alright." That reassured Emily a little. "Go get dressed, yeah?"

Emily nodded and took a tentative step out of bed.

He went into his room and got dressed. For a second, he was glad that he didn't eat dinner last night. He had suffered from food poisoning once before; it wasn't a pleasant feeling. But then he thought of his mother and sister sick and felt bad for them.

Although, it did seem odd to him. Typically those with food poisoning experienced convulsions and vomiting just hours later. The only thing his sister and mother were feeling was weakness. Then again, maybe Max was worried all for nothing, and that the symptoms would take another hour or so to start. After all, his friends constantly joked about him being a worry wart.

Max and his family traveled a short distance to get to the doctors. He was glad to see there weren't many people in the waiting room. He looked down at his sister who sat in silence next to him. She stared at the fish tank in the middle of the room. "Don't worry, Em. It's only food poisoning, remember?" He tried to comfort her again. He looked up when his sister didn't acknowledge his attempt. He hated having to see her sad.

Although he was sixteen and Emily seven, the age difference didn't make him love her any less. Of course, her age made her more annoying than cool, but he loved her to death.

Something took hold of Max's hand. He looked down and saw it was Emily. Her tiny fingers interlaced with his. He held his sister's hand until it was time for them to go to the examination room.

The doctor entered with a smile on his face. "Hey there." He knelt to meet Emily at eye level. "My name is Dr. Dewey, but you can call me Craig. What's your name?"

"Emily," she said, and her cheeks turned to a light shade of red.

Craig stood straight and looked at Emily, then Max's mother. "Well then Emily, if you and your mother could sit down here, I will start by taking your temperatures."

His mother and sister sat where the doctor indicated. Max sat on the opposite side of the room and watched as Craig gave his family a checkup. After taking Emily's temperature, he then moved to his mother. Craig gave them a puzzled look as there was nothing wrong with them.

"Hm," He mumbled to himself. "I am going to take your blood pressure." He retrieved the blood pressure machine. Craig looked over at Emily. "Don't worry," he smiled, "It doesn't hurt." He wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Emily's thin arm first.

Max smiled at his sister. Finished with Emily, the doctor moved to Max's mother. Again Craig was trumped by the results. Their blood pressures measured in the normal range.

Before they left, Craig had asked Max's mother and sister a series of questions, in a hope that he would understand what they were experiencing. Craig explained they might have food poisoning, but mentioned how some of the symptoms didn't add up. He prescribed medicine he wasn't sure would work. He told them if nothing improved they should come back and he would see to them again.

Max noticed how this worried his sister. "Don't worry Emily it's nothing. I'm sure the medicine will work." He held his sister's hand once more. He squeezed it tightly, hoping to comfort her unsettled nerves. It seemed his words of reassurance comforted him more than it did her.

When Max and his family got home, they all went into their rooms. He noticed that his mother looked drained. She had always been an upbeat and energetic woman. To see her like this bothered him.

He told himself it was food poisoning and tried to carry on with his normal routine.

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The next morning, Max woke up. His stomach clawed at him for food. He jumped from his bed and ran into the kitchen. He made himself a bowl of cereal and scarfed it down. He debated grabbing another. With reluctance, he finished his second bowl— but was quick to feel guilty afterward.

When he started to walk back to his room, he noticed Emily's light was on. He knew he needed to check up on her to make sure she was feeling better.

He knocked on her door then walked in. Emily looked up at him, her green eyes wide. A look of fear imprinted on her usually cheerful face. He furrowed his eyebrows and stepped closer to Emily.

He sat down on her bed. "What's the matter?" He asked. There was an unsettling feeling that stirred in the pit of his stomach. Emily stared at him, not saying a word.

Max swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. "Do you feel better?"

"No." Emily shook her head vehemently. "I feel worse." It came out almost a whisper.

"I'm sure you're fine," he smiled, "It was only food poisoning, right?"

"Then what's this?" Emily asked and held up her hand that was covered in dark blue veins that spidered all the way up to her elbow.

He stared at her arm in dismay. His eyes followed the dark blue veins down to her fingertips. That's when he noticed a dark black had taken a hold of her fingertips.

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