The sky was darkened. The entire horizon was filled with clouds, gray rain clouds, which unleashed their contents upon the ground mercilessly, drenching all underneath; more specifically, a graveyard. This was not an open graveyard though, rather one that was hidden in a clearing inside of a remote forest. There was no gravestone here, only three bodies, and only two living.

A seemingly youthful boy and a slightly older looking female were seen moving around. The male had a shovel, and was burying something into the earth, ignoring the water that poured down, softening the soil and turning it to mud. His shortly-cut black hair was no problem, and didn’t get in the way at all of his hard, brown eyes that seemed to stare straight through lies. His facial expression was always tired, from the bags and dark circles under his eyelids, to the permanent frown from his thin lips. He was never truly happy. His entire body was scrawny, but not overly much; definitely not like the person with him.

“Elijah!”

The sudden calling of his name made the boy stop instantly, and look up toward its source. The girl with him had called his name, but more importantly, interrupted the silence. He hated that; not because he hated noise, but because the occasion was too saddening for words.

“What?” he asked in a quite harsh manner.

“Well . . . I was thinking . . . and. . .” She trailed off, obviously nervous about finishing her sentence.
“Spit it out, Alyssa!” His eyes narrowed, giving off a frustrated and dangerous expression—one Alyssa knew all too well.

“I just don’t think we should do this today!” Her words carried through, reaching her target’s ears. Just as she spoke, a light flashed in the sky: lightning.

The atmosphere froze momentarily when the noise came. Along with the sky, Elijah’s face was shocked too.

“Don’t do this today?” he repeated, a bit flabbergasted. He shook his head, water flying in every direction. “Don’t be such a dang fool! You know what I’m doing this for!” The mere mention seemed to set his mood down far. He turned, gripping the shovel tightly.

Alyssa’s expression turned soft, and she stroked her long, brown hair. It needed to be cut soon; it was already going towards her stomach, which seemed as if the hair strands would be thicker than it. Alyssa was lanky, and a few inches taller than her friend, who she was currently still watching. She pitied the image that her amber eyes took in. She watched the boy throw dirt, which had started to soften into a mush, from a dug up pile back into the ground. They were hiding a body, but not one they killed.

The body belonged to their lifelong friend, who never told them their real name. “Just call me Seven.”
And so they did, and that was all they ever did. Seven was a mentor, a hero to the children. Without him, neither would have ever learned the truth. The truth wasn’t ‘you have super-powers’, or ‘you two have been chosen to go on a top secret. . .’ No, the truth was much darker and only Elijah fully understood it.

All three lived in a country that was supposedly ‘safe’ and ‘economically strong.’ Those were lies, lies that the residents didn’t have the ability to see through. It wasn’t because they were dense either, but because the government injected newborns with some sort of chemical at birth. The fluid would then judge the individual’s mind when certain phrases or words were used, making their logic completely useless, essentially turning them into mind puppets. Seven figured this out though, because he was lucky in the form of something horrible. Seven survived an abortion.

The doctors didn’t think he would make it, so they skipped injecting him, which would later become their biggest mistake. None of the lies worked on Seven. He could decipher all the horridness from the newspapers. They weren’t free people, they were dictated. There were very few cases of depression throughout the entire country of Aquerth, and the man single-handedly figured it out. When you heard a government official, they would use keywords to toy with emotions, allowing them to decide fate of ‘happiness’ or ‘hate.’ Those obviously weren’t the only ones, every emotion could be controlled—a mental dictatorship.

Seven met Elijah and Alyssa when they were messing around during a public assembly. Every human there had been cheering in complete awe as they listening to pathetic and useless changes and plans for action throughout the land. Everyone, except those two, of course, was captivated. Seven smiled brightly that day as he knew he finally found people who were not controlled.

Alyssa, or as Seven called her, Day-Owl, for some reason had a slightly immunity to the drug, making the commands difficult to get to her. This was a good enough reason for Seven to take her under his wing. Then there was Elijah, or his nickname, Black-Cat. He was just like Seven, a failed abortion. Except Seven’s parents had remorse after he lived, and kept him. Eli had nothing. No friends, no family. No one, until he met Alyssa. Of course the two only spoke very little to each until prior to meeting their friend.

“What do the nicknames mean?”Alyssa once asked out of curiosity. She had no problem with them so far, but they had to have had a deeper meaning, and she was right.

“Well,” Seven had started in his voice, “it is said to be bad luck if you see an owl during the day.” This made Alyssa frown. “It is also horrible for a black cat to pass by you.” No reaction from the other boy.
“Wait, if we’re two bad luck omens, then why are you Seven?” she inquired. “I thought that was a number for good luck.”

Another flash of lightning brought focus back to the forest, with Elijah throwing the last bit of now-mud onto Seven’s deceased body. He hung his head in shame. The burial was out of respect, but he could not shake the idea of how he lost a friend.

“Do you still remember what his name meant, Black-Cat?” Alyssa giggled slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a heart-felt reply. No anger or spite, just an empty, hollow voice.

“Are you okay, Elijah?” No answer. “I asked if you were okay!” Her voice was full of concern; Black-Cat hadn’t moved a single muscle since he finished his task.

“. . .” Elijah picked his head up. “No, I’m not okay dammit! Damn, damn, DAMN!” He gripped the shovel with both hands by the very end and spun around, tossing it as far as he could. The metal part hit a tree, and a soft buzzing echo was heart for a fraction of a second before it hit the ground. “I lost my best friend! I’m not okay! I lost my tutor! Not okay! I lost the one who gave me hope!”

“He was my friend too you know!”

“WELL YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HIM DIE, DID YOU!?”

Silence filled the air, mixed in with the only noise being the rain droplets crashing into the leaves of the trees nearby. The two stared at each other, Elijah shaking with rage. Yet another bolt of lightning came. This one was much brighter than the others. When the flash stopped, Eli fell on his knees, arms at his sides and he hung his head.

Soft sobbing was heard from him. “I hate everything so much. K-kill . . . me. . . Kill me.” But no one did. Alyssa, however, came and picked him up, standing him to his feet then embracing him.

“Don’t talk like that. Seven would never want you to say.” Her attempt to calm him must have worked nicely, because quickly the crying ceased. “Now why don’t you tell me, why was he called Seven?”
No answer again.

“Come on, Black-Cat. Say it aloud, because you need to think about it hard right now. Go on, say it.” She squeezed him tighter as an incentive, and then broke away, staring at him, waiting for the answer.

“E-even though . . . I see owls in the day . . . and have black cats walk by me at night . . .” He stopped talking, and looked up, letting the water hit him directly in his face.

“I will always remember, it’s seven times down, and eight up-right.” He looked back down to see Alyssa. She was smiling, and he decided to take the poem to heart this time, and smirked slightly with her, happy for once. It did not last.

An eerie laughter was heard, and the duo turned in the direction it came from. A man, just one, was standing, staring at them. “I knew it,” he said, in a light voice. “I knew if I killed the ringleader, the clowns he commanded would follow.”

Black-Cat blinked, and then rubbed water out of his eyes to get a better view. He was staring at a man he never wanted to see again—Seven’s killer.

“Who are you?” Alyssa inquired. “And what do you mean by ‘killed the ringleader?’”

“Silence Day-Owl, this is the one who killed Seven.” Alyssa gasped, and looked nervously at the man again. He certainly didn’t look like a killer.

“You two are coming with me. Or you can be buried here, your choice.” The man pulled out a pistol, impossible to define exactly which kind through the rain though. Both of the children held their hands up in the air as surrender.

“Come now, move along,” he said, pointing the weapon in the direction he wanted them to go. “I don’t really want to use this on either of you. I think you could make a cute couple after your memories are altered.” Now both the hostages were walking a pace ahead of him.

“You thought you would fool your own government.”

“The government thought it could fool me,” Black-Cat retorted. Instantly, he felt the cool metal of the barrel pressed against his neck. He shut his mouth and looked down, scowling. He could feel the sadistic smile coming from the man.

Looking down got him an idea. A perfect one. Smirking, he nudged Day-Owl with his elbow and used his eyes to motion her to run. She got a scared look on her face. Trust me, he mouthed.

Gulping quietly, Alyssa stopped walking.

“Hey, keep movi-“ Black-Cat walked back into the man, cutting off his sentence. He should have gotten a bullet to the brain, but right when the man growled and pointed his gun, Alyssa took off. She did not plan to make herself easy to hit, and zigzagged around.

"You get out of my way!” Elijah was immediately shoved forward, and he smirked. Quickly, he pretended to fall on the ground, getting on all fours, and landing right next to the shovel. He left hand latched on to it instinctively, and he forced himself up just after rolling to the side. The man was too preoccupied with trying to aim at Alyssa to notice. Black-Cat raised the tool up with both hands.

“Hey, whatever your name is.”

“What the hell do you need?” The man turned his head with a scowl, but instantly his eyes widened and he gasped what would be his final breath. Then the gardening tool came down, metal cracking against the murderer’s temple. Blood leaked from where he was hit. His eyes rolled back, then his body fell back, hitting the ground, slapping against the mud.

Alyssa came out from her hiding spot, watching Eli throw the shovel again. Then she saw him take the gun.

“What are you doing?” she cried, running over.

“He doesn’t need it,” he explained. “We do.”

She didn’t want to argue, because she knew Elijah was right. She couldn’t shake the thought though, Eli killing off the man in cold-blood. At the same time though, he avenged Seven.

“Alyssa..”

“Yes?” she asked, still a bit shocked.

“Our friend fell seven times. I just helped him up for the eighth.” All of his emotions then exploded right there, and he fell in the mud next to the recently deceased corpse. He wept tears of regret and sadness. But most of all, his tears were of happiness.