Beryl, in her mind, is a normal teenage girl who goes through the normal everyday perils every normal girl goes through. That is until her teacher, of all people, gives her potentially-life-changing news-that she is a psychic and a mind reader. Her ancestors were part of a race of people who had special gifts, and the ability to have these gifts was passed down through the generations. A war resulted in them being nearly wiped out from earth, and there was only one survivor-Aya, Beryl's great-great-great-grandmother. Because she was the last of her kind, the special abilities got rarer as Aya's descendants had human blood. Beryl and her teacher is one of Aya's few descendants to have a gift, and in her case, she can read the future and minds. When the war resulted in Aya losing her family and her home, she got depressed, so she did what she did best-she used magic. She created the Scroll of Elysium, which contains all the love and hope in the world. She distributed happiness fairly and justly, but word got out of what she had done. Aya decided that it was no longer safe for the Scroll of Elysium to be used, so she hid it away. The Scroll of Elysium can be used by anyone; whether they use it for good or for bad does not matter. It was stolen long after she died by a man she once loved, so once she got it back, she hid it away in a safer place. That same man is back again, and now he wants the Scroll of Elysium for good. However, Aya has set enchantments on the Scroll of Elysium, which means that it cannot be handled by anyone who is not her descendant, and that is where Beryl comes in. She has to try and stop him before he finds a gifted descendant and uses the Scroll of Elysium for evil again. And he will do anything to get the Scroll of Elysium again.

Secrets of Life

By Aida Getachew

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2012 Aida Getachew
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4669-7011-3

Chapter One

"Beryl, Wake up child! School's started! Oh, good lord, one day I think I will pack my bags and leave this madhouse. It's the first day of school, a brand new year, and look where you are—in your damned bed. I don't even want to know what the rest of the year will be like ..." My mother's voice trailed off into the distance as she went to yell my older brother to consciousness.

Imagine hearing that on your first day of school. It's probably no surprise to you that the day that followed was not exactly what you would call a good one. I yawned sleepily, dragged myself out of bed, and opened the curtains. I turned around and made my way back to my bed, preparing to dive into the inviting warmth of my bed that seemed to yell my name.

That was when I saw the time on my alarm clock. It wasn't just my mother exaggerating as usual surprisingly. I had overslept by about an hour. I shook myself awake and quickly changed into the first clothes that my groping fingers found at the back of my closet.

I ran out of my bedroom, banging my head on the way out, and I skidded down the hallway and into the bathroom. I then proceeded to brush my teeth in record time, and then I literally flew down the stairs. I tried to get out of the house, but my mother stood in front of the door, barricading me in. I tried to get past her, but no, Mum wouldn't let me go—surprise, surprise.

"Don't even think about walking out of this front door without eating every single bite of food on your plate. You need your energy." Like that's the reason she wanted me to stay and eat. She simply wanted to embarrass me, and the most humiliating thing she could think of was me being late to school. How creative.

I was about to barge past her, head first, when she put her hands on her waist and placed her feet on each side of the door, making sure that escape was impossible. This house is becoming more like a prison every stinking day.

"Mum," I began to complain, but then my mum got that look on her face that clearly said, "Don't argue with me unless you want to fight." I figured I would get out of the house quicker if I just listened to her. Plus I didn't want to be the reason WW3 started. I ran to the kitchen with my mother following not too far behind and hurriedly poured out a bowl of cereal for myself while my mother leaned on the kitchen frame, watching me with a satisfied expression on her face—Cruella de Vil's twin in person. I am honoured. When I was done, I didn't even bother to say bye to "Mum". I simply ran out of the house without so much as a glance at the front door when it slammed shut.

I had just started running to school when it began pouring with rain. Talk about bad timing. Luck is seriously avoiding me, and I don't like it much. Oh well. At least I was getting the shower that I had had to miss.

I arrived at school sopping wet about fifteen minutes later, even though I had run flat out the whole way, armed with nothing except for a half dead umbrella. I ran to my English room where I was greeted by a dragon of a teacher whom I had never laid eyes on before in my life. All in all, this was not turning out to be one of my good days.

"And what time do you call this, young lady?" she asked me, even though she had a watch on her.

"Just look at your watch, miss. I'm sure that will help you," I blurted out without thinking—seriously? I hadn't even gotten to my first lesson, and I was already losing my mind.

Dragon lady just stared at me without blinking for such a long time that I began to think of getting help for her. She grabbed hold of my arm and simply said, "Do what's best for the world, honey." Guess I'm not the only person round here going mad.

She then stalked back into the classroom with her nose up high in the air. I honestly started to think that I had imagined it all when she turned around and winked at me. Finally! Actual proof that I am the only sane person in this entire planet. Oh my goodness, gracious me. It could be the other way round though. I slouched into the classroom and slumped into my usual chair at the back of the classroom, next to the class idiots who also happen to be my friends, JJ and Tamara.

"What took you so long to get here? Did you try and save the world again?" JJ asked me, sniggering to herself. If she had heard what Ms. Sparks had been saying, I wouldn't have been that surprised, but somehow, I don't think that's why she said what she said. She is just weird like that. I really don't get her sometimes.

JJ's full name is Josephine Jackson, but everybody calls her JJ. Trust me; she looks more like a JJ than a Josephine. I've no idea what her parents were thinking when they were choosing baby names.

"Seriously though, what happened? You took forever. Ms. Sparks looked like she was about to have a fit when she heard you knock on the door," Tamara said seriously. Tamara has always been the most down to earth out of JJ, me, and her. JJ has her head way up in the clouds most of the time.

I quickly told them about my crappy morning so far, although god knows why they would want to hear about something as depressing as that. I had gotten only halfway through my little novel when I heard a voice. "Aha! Miss Jones has something to say surely. Would you like to share your oh-so-dramatic life story with the rest of the class?" Ms. Sparks asked me, her beady eyes gleaming with malice.

That was when I looked her full-on in the face. That was also when I had the weirdest feeling, and it wasn't because she looked like some undead monster. I knew exactly what Miss Sparks was thinking. I felt as if I was actually inside her head. She was thinking about what she would have for dinner, how much she hated teens, a spot that she had on the end of her nose, and about a million other things, only I couldn't focus on all of them at the same time.

I looked away from her, breaking the eye contact. From what I could see in her face, she didn't seem at all surprised at what had just happened. In fact, she looked as if nothing had happened at all.

"Beryl Adriana Jones, you will come to this classroom at 3:30 p.m. and we shall have a nice, cosy conversation; don't you think?" She said to me in a voice that "chilled me to the bones ..." That certainly wasn't what I was thinking, but I nodded numbly, feeling cold all over.

I walked out of the class in a daze when the bell rang a second later, signalling the end of registration. The rest of the day passed in a haze, and I wandered from class to class without knowing where or what I was doing. I could have been in China for all I knew. There was only one thing on my mind at that moment, and that had nothing to do with studying. It felt like only half an hour had passed since I had had Ms. Sparks. No wonder she is a miss—she probably scared all the men away.

Finally, the bell rung to show that it was the end of the day. I made my way slowly towards Ms. Sparks's office. It was then that I realised that I could hear a weird humming noise inside my head. I couldn't get rid of it no matter how hard I shook my head. Huh, I guess it's time to visit Spec Savers.

It was all too soon that I realised that I was standing in front of Ms. Sparks's office. I knocked nervously, not knowing if I was ever going to make it out of her classroom alive. "Come in." I walked in cautiously. This was just like a horror movie. I wouldn't be surprised if Ms. Sparks suddenly sprouted fangs and admitted that she was a vampire in disguise.

Nothing would surprise me. At least, that was what I told myself. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I wouldn't say anything until I was asked to. That was before I saw the look on her face. Trust me; it wasn't pretty. Before I could stop myself, I had blurted out the one thing that I had vowed not to say to anyone in my entire life.

"Miss Sparks, I'm really sorry about what happened this morning. I swear on my life that I didn't mean to do anything. Please don't be angry ..." I began to babble. God, I disgust myself sometimes.

"Beryl, I have not brought you to my office to hear an apology, although I do admit that would be quite delightful. I have told you to come here so that I can explain what it is that you can do."

"Oh," I said intelligently. I mentally prepared myself for whatever it was that she was going to say to me.

"Beryl, you are a very special young lady no matter what you or others may think. You have the gift of seeing into people's minds. It is a very peculiar gift, and it is very rare. You are what we call a seer," Ms. Sparks explained. I could only stare at her with my mouth wide open for a full minute.

"Sorry, but I don't think I heard you right. Did you just say that I was a seer?" I asked cautiously. God be with her if she believed in all these lunatic stories. Next thing you know, she'll be saying I'm a psychic.

"Yes, dear, you did hear me correctly. You are a seer," she repeated loudly and slowly, as if I was a foreign exchange student. For a second, I felt a moment of pure happiness, but that came crashing down when I saw a glint in Ms. Sparks's eyes that couldn't have been a good thing.

"No," I said, "No, you're wrong. There is absolutely nothing special about me. You're wrong."

I then jumped up in a hurry, grabbed my school bag, and ran out of the room. I could hear Ms. Spark yelling after me, but I can run fast when I want to, seriously fast.

I ran all the way home, even though I was panting like a donkey with asthma, my hair whipping me on the face like they were live snakes. I may not know everything but I most certainly was not Medusa. I think. For all I knew, I was a reincarnation of her.

I was absolutely furious. I had felt so happy when Ms. Sparks said that I was a seer, even though I'd have to be in a very fragile state of mind to believe her. Finally, I had something that separated me from the rest of my boring family. It dawned on me a second after she had said that I was a seer that maybe this was some sick joke to get back at me for being late on the first day of school. My mother was probably involved. I wouldn't be surprised. It was a strange way for a teacher to behave. I should probably sue the school.

I stormed into my house and practically flew up the stairs into my bedroom. I flopped down onto my bed; and, immediately, my eyes began to close like I had recently bashed my head on a metal door, and I was on my way into a vegetative state of mind. I fell asleep within minutes. I should seriously get my head checked out.

"Beryl! What is wrong with you children! You overslept again! I swear, one day, I will move to the other side of the world without you and stay there," my mum yelled at me from downstairs, the last part trailing off as she muttered to herself how we might as well be mentally retarded. I may not have the latest gadgets, but I have a one-of-a-kind mother, one who cusses her children.

I sat up and yawned, rubbing my eyes with my knuckles. I could hear my brother walking down the hall towards my bedroom. He appeared in my doorway wearing just a pair of boxer shorts. I felt sick just looking at him. I should be put in therapy for looking at him like that. It's bad enough when he is fully dressed.

"Do you have any idea why your teacher, Ms. Sparks, phoned last night demanding to talk to you?" My brother asked, scratching his head—whoooo, new word in his vocab.

"What did you say to her?" I asked immediately on the alert.

"That you died in a car crash on your way home from school, and that she was invited to your funeral," he said and went back to his room snorting with laughter—idiot. He thinks he's hilarious, but, really, a barn yard animal is probably funnier than him.

I actually was late for school, so I jumped out of bed, washed, and ran out of the house all the way to school where I was greeted by Ms. Sparks. Great day this is turning out to be. I love my life.

"Ah. Beryl, just the person I was looking for. Come to my office with me, now," Ms. Sparks said in the type of voice that you would expect to hear from the leader of a boot camp. Even though I knew I was staring death in the face literally, I began to make up excuses as to why I couldn't go with her. Believe me; they were pathetic. A two year old could have done better. She just waved them away with a flick of her hand.

I just gave up on my free will and life and followed her without talking into her office that was just as plain and boring as I expected it to be. I mean, this is Ms. Sparks we are talking about. That was probably why her office looked so familiar even though I had never been there before. Now, I expected to see creatures jumping out from the corners. Ms. Sparks settled herself down comfortably in the big black chair in the centre of the room. "Now, Beryl, tell me why you got so upset yesterday when I told you that you were a seer. Most people would be delighted to be told what you were told," Ms. Sparks said.

"Well, not me," I said, feeling my anger returning, "I'm not most people. I don't care what other people would think or wouldn't think of me. Okay?"

Ms. Sparks simply stared at me, but I refused to look at her as I was scared that I "might read her mind" if I did and convince myself that I was more deluded than I already knew I was.

"What is the matter?" Ms. Sparks asked me in an unusually soft voice. Startled, I glanced up to find her looking at me with an odd expression on her face. As soon as I looked up, I felt myself being sucked into her again with no warning. As before, I read all of her thoughts; but, this time, I looked away as fast as I could, and I stared down at my lap. There was a silence that was broken by Ms. Sparks of course.

"Do you still believe that you are not a seer?" She asked me in that same soft voice, staring at me intently. I finally nodded my head, giving in. Besides, if I said I still didn't believe her, she'd put me in therapy faster than you could say yes, even though she's one to talk about needing therapy.

"Now that you finally believe me, I really should begin to tell you about the duties that a seer has to attend to. First—" she began, but I cut into her sentence before she could utter a word.

"Wait. Tell me first what a seer can do, or I'll go home now and pretend that I don't know you." I demanded, not caring in the least if I sounded like a sulky teenager.

"Well dear, I will tell you now, but don't think that you can just walk out of here. You are not the only one with powers," Ms. Sparks said with a wicked smile. I couldn't say a word, so I just stared at her in shock with my mouth hanging slightly open.

Ms. Sparks seized the opportunity to talk while I sat there in a shocked silence. After a few seconds, I closed my mouth, which somehow managed to pop open like some sort of spastic goldfish, and asked her the same question.

"Miss, you still haven't answered my question," I pestered her.

"A seer, as I once said before, has the power to read a person's mind, and, in some rare cases, they are also able to look into the future. They also see disasters and tragedies, as well as other visions. Their job is to try and stop them from occurring.

A person who is gifted with the power of reading the future would see an average of about ten to fifteen visions. They only occur when a major event in one's life occurs. However, it is not always easy to identify whether a person has both gifts. In most cases, a person who has visions cannot be identified until they have their first vision. They are valued very much and are spoken highly of. We call them psychics," Ms. Sparks explained, answering in detail.

I looked around the room, finally understanding why this room looked so familiar. I had dreamed about this room a week ago—ironic, really. It was almost like it was planned that I was going to see Ms. Sparks the week later, and she was going to try and figure out whether I was a psychic or not. The dream came rushing back to me like a flood streaming downhill. With a little gasp, I remembered everything.

I had been dreaming about something completely different when I smelled strong incense, even though I was asleep. I then found myself in a room that was identical to that very room. I was sitting in the same chair that I was sitting on now and speaking to Ms. Spark.

"What is it?" Ms. Sparks asked me urgently, alarm showing clearly in her eyes. I realised that I had closed my eyes while trying to remember. I was feeling oddly stiff.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Secrets of Lifeby Aida Getachew Copyright © 2012 by Aida Getachew. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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