The Brave by James Bird

Author:James Bird
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

GUN THREAT   (25)

The alarm on my watch goes off at seven fifteen. I immediately regret putting it across the room, but I guess that’s the point. I have to get up to make it shut up. I wipe the sleep from my eyes, yawn, and sit up. The book falls off my chest. I stayed up most of the night reading it. I usually don’t remember my dreams, but last night, mine were filled with ghosts, witches, Salem, and magic.

I see why Orenda chose this book. It puts into perspective how gossip travels as fast as fire and spreads from home to home, causing friends to not trust each other, neighbors to turn on each other, and an entire town to be overly suspicious of strangers. Gossip sucks. A few years back, a rumor started that my counting condition was contagious. No one would come near me for the rest of the year.

This book also showed me that I don’t have it all that bad. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely hate my counting problem, but at least I’m not being accused of witchcraft and getting executed. If this was a few hundred years ago, that would be my fate.

I’m sure the lesson Orenda wants me to take away from this book is that we all have a past, but the past doesn’t determine our future. I’ve been called a freak for so long that I actually started to believe it. But I don’t have to anymore.

Maybe counting isn’t the curse that I think it is. I mean, it’s no gift either, but maybe I don’t need to fear words and letters as much as I do. There will always be bullies. But that doesn’t mean I will always be bullied. I need to ignore what people say about me and just work on being the best me I can be. Plus, bullies exist because people give them power. They feed off the attention.

From now on, I’m not going to give them any power. I’m just going to … be late for school! Crap! It’s now seven thirty. I finally leap out of bed, turn off my alarm, and get dressed as quickly as possible. As I hop through the hallway, trying to fit both my shoes on, I take a quick glance at my brother’s photograph.

“Good morning, Aji,” I say.

I enter the kitchen and feed Seven before I feed myself. I’m so hungry that I scarf down my bowl of cereal almost as quickly as Seven finishes her breakfast. My mom walks in and eyes my outfit: black pants, black shirt, black hooded sweatshirt, black hat, and black shoes. Even though I’m always in black, she examines me more than usual this morning.

“What?” I ask.

“You ever notice you look remarkably like a witch?” she says, while chomping on a banana.

I tally up her sentence and grab the broom that rests beside the fridge. I put it in between my legs and strike the witchiest pose I can.

“Hop on.

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