Sierra

"Karen, is that you?"

"Yeah sweetie, it's me. What's up?"

The din of the other kids in the lunchroom behind me is deafening. I couldn't stand not knowing about The Arena any longer, so I had to call my aunt. We are really close, and she will always help me, and right now I need help.

“I have a question.”

“At 11:45? It must be important.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Okay, shoot. What’s up?”

I hesitate. After all, I promised not to tell anyone that I know about The Arena. But it’s Aunt Karen, so it should be okay, right?

“Have you ever heard of…The Arena?”

I hear her sharp intake of breath.

“Um… I might have heard someone else talking about it, but I don’t think I actually know what it is. Why do you ask?”

You’re not supposed to talk about it.

“Uh, no reason. I…I was just thinking about a title for this story I’m writing.”

“Are you sure that’s it? I mean, I might be able to tell you a little bit about it. If you want, that is.”

“Sure. I mean, what could it hurt, right?”

I’m not so sure I like where this conversation is going. Something at the back of my mind is nagging at me. Maybe it’s my dead grandma.

“Exactly, dear. So, what is it you’ve been told? And who told it to you?”

“Ummm, nothing in particular…” I let it drop there.

“Well, who told it to you? You never know who you can trust about things like this.”

“Just some kid… I have to go, Karen. Class is going to end soon.”

I hang up on her.

Throughout the day, our conversation bugs me. Why was she so interested in what I had to say about The Arena? I don’t mean to distrust my aunt, but for some reason, that conversation haunts me. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked her about it.

At home, I look up The Freak’s phone number in the school directory. 861-9237, Area code 492.

The phone rings several times, and I almost hang up, but someone finally answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, is, uh, Travis there?”

Oh great, I sound like an idiot.

“Yeah, I’m here,” the voice answers.

“Hey, it’s, uh, Sierra.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Listen. About The Arena- why couldn’t I tell any one?”

“It could result in the death of anyone and anything connected to it, as well as the destruction of The Arena itself.”

“A…are you kidding?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh, crap.”

This is not good. Am I really going to be the cause of a whole bunch of people dying?

I hang up. Immediately. And call back Aunt Karen.

“Karen, it’s Sierra.” I say when the answering machine comes on. “Pick up if you’re there. It’s an emergency.”

The receiver clicks as my aunt picks up the phone. “Honey? What’s wrong? What’s an emergency?”

“Do you remember our little chat earlier? It never happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, I really wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about it, and…”

“And now you’re going on a major guilt trip because you told me about it. Am I right?”

“Yes. So, it never happened?”

“Oh honey, it’s okay that you told me. Some of the obsessive people think that someday, an outsider might overtake an insider and bring The Arena to destruction. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Still…” I mumbled, unconvinced.

“Just don’t worry about a thing.”

Justin (The Freak)

Aw, shoot! She told someone!

I stand up from the dinner table and excuse myself. My mom gives me a strange look as I put on shoes and run out the door. Halfway down the driveway, she calls out to me.

“Justin! Where are you going? You aren’t dressed appropriately. Get back in here!”

I ignore her and keep on running.

When I reach the cobblestone bridge in the town park, I sit down and try to breathe regularly. Although I was already planning to go to The Arena, this time I felt like I was pulled there. Jo was standing in front of me when I got there, and her face was flushed with panic.

“Justin, you’ve got to do something. I can feel a weakening in The Arena. Somehow, someone found about it that wasn’t supposed to. You have to find out who and you have to stop them.”

I look at Jo like she’s crazy. And, to be honest, she does look crazy, with her blond hair flying in the wind behind her and her reddish-brown eyes wide open.

“Wait,” I say. “I know that someone’s told, I think I know who, and why does it have to be me?”

Her face turns ashen.

“I can’t tell you. But go. Now.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why it has to be me.”

She hesitates, and after a moment of silence, she finally answers.

“Because you were born here.”

I don’t believe her. She must have meant on Earth.

“Yeah, wasn’t everyone born here-on Earth?”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about Justin. You were born here-in The Arena. And I think the person who told was too. Otherwise, the weakening wouldn’t have been so strong. Go now. Stop them.”

And she leaves. Good old, I’ll-never-leave-you Jo. She just up and left me. And I’m starting to think she might have gone insane.