In the center of the ocean, close by the island of Hawaii, there is a place where only heroes visit. This place tests your strength, endurance and sanity while at the same time, it twists your mind into the one thing you did not want it to become. Some survive and live to tell the tail, and others were not so lucky.
This place was founded by Roman soldiers who searched the high seas for distant lands. They described the place as a large island, with bushy forests, an unusual dark black sea, large mountains and a dangerous cliff. When they arrived on the white sand, they discovered a small dagger on the sand of the island with dried blood on it, thus giving it the name Daggory Island. The Romans thought that their gods put the island there for a reason, and they feared that a curse was onto the island. They quickly left, leaving the island for further investigation.
Daggory Island now holds trials for heroes. The gods of the island look for someone that is worthy to become King or Queen of Daggory Island. They require a letter, showing the person's different personalities and abilities. The gods chose only nine young people to compete in the trials. No adults or children are allowed into the island, or they will perish.
It is my great duty to tell you, the reader, that I am one of the teenagers in the trials of Daggory Island. I have a strange ability, where I can see ghosts in the blink of an eye. Some of them send messages to me, some ignore me, and some just stare back at me. They were confusing, but I knew that they were just normal people.
My brother, Skandar, was also going to compete. He could raise the dead straight from the grave. It was fun when we were in middle school, because Skandar began to hum this strange lullaby. As soon as we knew it, zombies were banging on the windows and trying to get through at the door. Skandar still likes to prank his teachers, even now as he was a junior in high school. He and I were twins, and my name is Lydia. We were different. I was dry, sarcastic and I could care less about how people judge my gothic clothing. Skandar was humorous, a fun spirit and always had a smile on his face. I wish he was more like me.
My letter was accepted faster than Skandar's was. I suppose they saw more potential in me, hopefully. I barely had any self-esteem anymore. I tried to boost my confidence up, but it always crashed down when those voices began to talk in my head.
My distant cousin, Liam Bankson, was accepted as well. He was immortal. He could bleed, but his body would make more blood faster than the blink of an eye. And Liam wasn't normal either. He was insane, being at the asylum for the tenth time now. He always stayed at a graveyard and whispered to the graves, like they were his friends. Poor fellow.
The plane ride would take us about five hours, because we live in California. I heard we may stop at Hawaii, which was horrid. I hated the sun, but then I ponder why do I stay at a sunny place? My mind was so weird. Skandar was excited for the plane ride though. Something about being in flight made him happy and made his mind soar with the clouds. I disliked flying because of the people. They stuffed too many people in there, and my claustrophobia didn't help at all in that situation.
Luckily for us, we got into the second row. That was fine, because only a row of three people were in front of us. I wonder if any of the other teens on this plane were going to Daggory Island. I looked behind myself as Skandar pushed our luggage onto the shelf above us. I didn't see anyone I recognized. I saw two boys sitting near the back. One was probably a year younger than me, and the other was probably a year older than me. The youngest one had raven black hair that sat at his shoulders and crystal blue eyes that shone like the ocean. He seemed innocent and shy, especially next to his friend. The older one had crazy, curly brown hair and wild green eyes. He kept talking in a hyper voice, telling the black-haired one about something's. I took my seat as I began to grow bored of them. I placed my hand on the arm rest and gave a heavy sigh. I wish I was out of here. I don't think I could stand five hours in a stuffy, loud plane and I knew when Skandar brought out his iPod, it would be karaoke time for him. Even now, I saw him reach into his small carry-on bag and pull out his white iPod. I groaned with frustration and turned away from him. He promptly looked at me and tilted his head, like a puppy.
"What's wrong? I thought you liked planes," he began, placing one ear bud into his right ear. Of course he thought I liked planes. He never paid attention to my likes or dislikes.
"You thought," I huffed out, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And my thoughts are wrong? Huh! They always are. Oh well!" Skandar said, happily ignoring my anger as he turned up the volume on his iPod. He began to nod his head to the beat of the bass, smiling happily. I rolled my arms and pretended that he wasn't my brother, but sadly we looked alike. There were four of us, and we were quadruplets. The order of birth went from Zack, but formerly known as Zinnathin, and then Skandar, me and Jack. Zinnathin was more like me, actually. He was dry and never liked life. He wanted to kill himself every second he thought, and I mean, I sometimes thought like that. Zinnathin went into the mental hospital though, because my mother was worried that he might kill someone. Jack was the smart one out of all of us. He always wore goofy glasses and always carried some type of book. He was never made fun of at school because he was witty with comebacks and besides, he had us.
"Peanuts?" a voice asked, cutting off my thoughts and made me look over at a Barbie lady. She literally looked like plastic, with her thick makeup and thin, long blonde hair. She held out a metal tray, carrying little packages of peanuts and had a fake smile on her face. Skandar looked at the tray and took two, returning the smile to the lady. He turned to me and placed the peanuts on my lap. I sighed and poked the package. I wasn't really hungry, but I knew I would be soon. Skandar, who dug into his peanuts, stuffed his face with the honey roasted clots. I made a face at him.
"Gross Skandar. Can you please just eat normally?" I asked, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at me and stuck out his tongue, which showed pieces of peanuts on them. I quickly moved away from him, shaking my head.
"Haha, oh Lyds. You are so weird," Skandar mumbled under his breath, chewing the remains of the peanuts.
"I am the weird one?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in surprise. Skandar nodded, answering my question. "Nope. It is you, brother that is the weird one."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that," Skandar chuckled, shoving the last of the package into his mouth.
"I will keep telling myself that," I snapped, crossing my arms tightly across my stomach. My gaze wandered to the window as I watched the clouds, which looked like pieces of cotton candy, pass by across the bright blue sky. It was a pretty sight, I will admit.
"Are you going to eat your peanuts?" I heard Skandar ask as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I immediately frowned and shoved the package towards him, not carrying about my nutrition or hunger. Skandar made a happy cry as he opened the plastic.
"You're welcome," I mumbled to him, frowning.
"Yep!" Skandar said, placing an evil grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and placed my chin on my hand, frustrated. This was going to be the longest plane ride I have ever been on. Might as well call it "mini-hell."