A page from a diary

"Today is the worst I dream of liboration! How I wish to give you my heart and for you to accept it. Maybe I will let you kiss me. maybe more!.." -"MAYBE MORE?? Hahaha.. Patricia needs liboration" Exhaled a heavy-set boy with a fire-red hair and shook a flimsy piece of paper he read from. His unpleasant face carried a constant haughty grimace, and his closely placed pig eyes darted quickly from side-to side. In addition his whole being was drowning in freckles, sticking to him like flies to cows' behind on hot summer day. The boy, who fatso was reading to, stood quietly, looking away. His pale cheeks stained by quickly spreading scarlet spots, announcing his embarrassment. He grabbed the paper and ran his eyes across it. Then, pulling out a black sharpie, he pressed the paper to his knee and made a correction: "LibErated" added a few commas and wrote "FOOL" at the bottom of the page. He crumpled the paper and chucking it in the bushes stomped away, with the fat villan trudging behind him. After a few moments a skinny hand extended from the bush and grabbed the balled up paper. There, crouching on dry leaves sat Patricia - the reason for school disturbances and the cause for reinforced vents around the boys' showers. The mastermind of colluding and the president of cahoots. The bearer of torch for Ben and the crusader of broken heart.

The inside of the bush was conveniently hollowed out by two years of eager eavesdropping- at first, Pat tried cutting down the branches with school scissors, damaging the blades irreparably, and for weeks Mrs. Anderson remained in state of total confusion, staring at sap coated tools, accusing the second-graders of evil deeds and canceling the paper mache class. (To her disdain NOBODY was upset about that!) Then Pat attempted to attack the bush, throwing her whole body into it, but dumb bush barely lost its shape. So in final attempt of attacking this stoic castle of shrubbery, she smuggled in a lighter fluid and a grill lighter: The deed was done in the early evening of Wednesday, during the cheerleading practice that kept the only remaining, wandering eye of the janitor distracted. Half of the bush quickly gave in to the fire, forming a nice little hollow, just right to fit a skinny eleven year old. The front of the bush remained visibly undamaged so the janitor wouldn't be inclined to come sniffing around. Generally speaking, even if the restless janitor had wanted to "sniff around" anything- he couldn't. A bullet that he once took to his face damaged not only the one healthy eye, but many nerves and muscles in his face, denying him the ability to smell. Anyhow.. now, crouched inside the said bush, Patricia unwrapped the paper ball and pressed it dearly to her heart. She then looked down at the correction Ben had made and grinned foolishly. "He read it!" She thought dreamily and rubbed the paper on her face, in vain effort to catch any lingering smell of him. "I'm gonna show that idiot Parsley!" And wicked thoughts started brewing in her not- yet well-built mind: "Making fun of me? Trying to break us up! I should CURSE him!..." She tutted and cheered on by her thoughts, crawled out of the bush.

"JONATHAN!?"- Pat burst into her house, checking if the embodiment of everything vile and stupid was at home. The embodiment wasn't and she ran upstairs to his room. The sign on the door welcomingly proclaimed: "beat it Pat!" and another one underneath it: "I WILL kill you if you enter" and a threatening little doodle of a voodoo head, that was supposed to predict how exactly Jonathan was planning on executing Pat, was added at the bottom to instill the fear. She kicked the door in and a gust of stale hot air astounded her. Re-thinking her entrance, she has returned to the room in a minute, wrapping a flower bandana around her face. Cautiously entering the room, she stretched her legs and theatrically stepped on her toes, like a classic cartoon thief. Making her way to the center of the room, assured that the coast was clear, she started rummaging through drawers moving around mounds of socks interlayered with broody goth poetry. "I WARNED YOUU! I WARNED YOU!!" A battle cry reached Pat. A breaking voice yelled: "Beg for your life, you paltry worm!" And uncoordinated long arms grabbed and lifted her in the air. Strings of curses and threats would have flowed for ages, without a doubt, if Patricia, wiggling her skinny legs in the air, hadn't yelled in return: "-Let me go, Jonathan! I need to curse that idiot Parsley!" Taken aback by such statement Jonathan released his sister and in a breaking voice, so often heard escaping teenage boys, he demanded: "What curse seek you in the domain of Master of Darkness?" And unnecessarily added an affirmative: "You sniveling mortal." "-Master of Moronism!" Quietly commented Pat. "This idiot Parsley has been making fun of my feelings and setting Ben against me, and.." "-Oh Beeeeen?!" Jonathan nodded knowingly and pushed away strands of greasy, poorly dyed black from his forehead. "-Yes, Ben! And I heard him telling his sister that YOU make out with dead squirrels!" Suddenly, Jonathan straightened up and his shifty eyes focused on the seemingly interesting balled up sock on the floor. He adjusted his bangs and mumbled that he doesn't care about Ben's sister, for it is all last year's business. "Oh, pshh" Huffed Pat puckering her lips in a bow and thinking for a moment: "A true mage needs to practice his dark arts" She reasoned, and as a brother, he should feel inclined to help his own sister in the matters of the heart, eliminating the nuisance on the way. "And who knows, maybe eliminating Parsley will make the world a better place.. Or a spooky one"- she quickly added, searching for the trigger phrases to encourage her brother's participation. "Whatever, idiot, I'll help you.. But we do it my way!" He waved his bony finger in Pats face :" But everything has a price!"

He fished out a small thick book from under his pillow and Pat snorted. Receiving an evil stare, she put her palms up in defense and made a "zipped lips" gesture. Ceremoniously Jonathan opened the book, searched fragile pages and in a garbled way, that would make the ears of any native Russian-speakers curl, he chanted a phrase: " Da svernetsa tvoy yazik I budet zhalit tebya kak tolko past tvoya otkro-Itsa, PARSLEY!" And he poked a needle in the center of a crude, hasty drawing representing the resented-by-all red-head. Then he flipped a few pages and finding a new incantation proceeded: "BEN" He dramatically looked at Patricia and extended his palm, requesting the token of payment. Without a second thought Pat yanked a cheap heart-shaped locket off her neck and placed it in her brother's clammy palm. Jonathan resumed his awful howling: "Primi moyo serdtse- otday svoyo. Straday bez menya da boley da pust gory rooshatsya vokrug bit nam vmeste!" "..and may your sister fall in love with me too" added Jonathan in a hasty whisper and looked sideways at Patricia. "DONE!" he announced grandiosely and slapped the book shut releasing a gentle puff of dust.

The day promised to be memorable. In anticipation of grand union of two loving harts, Patricia wore her best dress: she imagined wearing it many times, dreaming about Ben and herself "kissing and more". In a slight diversion from the plan, a reverse word "FOOL" imprinted onto her cheek since yesterday, wouldn't entirely come off, no matter how hard she scrubbed it. But surely Ben can overlook it. Jonathan was also preparing for an important day. He imagined how Ben's older sister Holly will throw herself at his feet, searching his gaze adoringly. And he, will command her to call him "Master of Magic" and shake himself free from her choking kisses. He wore an awful, long black leather trench coat, that in actuality, belonged to his mother, ripped jeans and Guns'N'Roses t-shirt. "Irresistible" He thought, looking himself over in the mirror. To a passerby he looked like a coat hanger that came to life: Cumbersome limbs were growing too fast for his scrawny body, arms swinging slackly like two lianas, for Jonathan hadn't yet figured out any placement for them to look less awkward. Clothes hung oh his rigid shoulders, neither hiding his flaws nor emphasizing his advantages. He constantly shook his matted hair, in a manner inherent to horses and occasionally bit his stubby fingernails inadvertently eating the black nail polish off.

The first sign, announcing that things had gone terribly wrong was the absence of Holly. A tight click of girlfriends that followed her anywhere she went, was also at loss. Without their Blonde leader they quickly became moody and mean, bickering and letting spiteful comments slip in address of one another. Teachers uninformed in advance of a missing student, inquired the parents and worried parents promised that Holly should have been driving Ben to school this very morning. And before the second period could start a full blown investigation was on it's way to Oregon School. In the meantime, in the opposite wing of school, precisely in class 20B the second worrisome sign had announced itself: Parsley, usually rambunctious, ill-mannered and loud boy was uncommonly quiet. He leaned his chin onto his fist, drawing something with quiet concentration. Though his piggish little eyes were lively as ever, indicating that nasty little thoughts were still swarming in his feverish teenage mind. He doodled on a piece of paper and folding it into a plane shape sent it flying straight into Pat's hair. Students snickered, satisfied Parsley waited. Pat unfolded the paper that contained a message: "oooh kiss me, Kiss me Ben!" and a doodle of two stick figures doing it. Pat turned around and flipped Parsley off, who in return closed his eyes and French-kissed the air. Unusually spritely for his age, Teacher, Mr. Robertson sauntered up to Pat, grabbed the crude drawing and demandingly stared at Parsley: "Why don't you tell us, mister Ogden what prompted you to create this!?" Parsley arrogantly threw up his face, preparing to talk, and at this very moment his jaw unhinged sideways and he released a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly weak muscles were disintegrating, laying bare the white bone of his jaw. His eyes rounded and he tried to support his slack, loosely hanging jaw with his chubby freckled hands. He was howling and everyone could see the tongue inside his maw, twisting like a snake, dancing to the tune of his terrible scream. He was trying to say something and it seemed that every word he tried producing caused him searing pain and summoned new streams of tears. Petrified teacher stepped back covering mouth, briefly checking if his own jaw was still there. Terrified Parsley let out a high pitched squeal and collapsed onto his desk. Classroom 20B was now engulfed in screams.

Ben ignored the ringing cellphones. He checked the knots and tightened the ropes around his sister's body. Invigorated by some ravenous new strength he pulled the ropes tighter, making them bite and bruise Hollie's skin. "He is mine!" Ben wheezed. Holly rounded her eyes in a silent question "Who? who is yours?" A silk scarf choked her, stretching her lips and digging into her cheeks. Another heavy blow to Hollie's head put her to sleep and relieved by the sense of accomplishment Ben biked to school. Anything he could think of was Jonathan's face. Ben wanted to be with him, touch him, kiss him and as Patricia once said: "maybe even more". Ben wasn't sure what more than his heart he could offer, but his heart should be enough! Finding Jonathan deep in thought in the crowded high school corridor, Ben giddily sprinted towards him. "Jon! Jonny!" Master of darkness has never before been called Jonny, especially by a thirteen-year old. Perplexed, he turned his face toward the call. Seeing Ben gave him some relief, maybe the younger brother will know where Holly was. As Ben reached Jonathan, the latter opened his mouth preparing to ask a question, but was promptly kissed on the lips. Ben wrapped his arms around Jonathan's neck and hung onto it like a giddy girl. "WHAT THE HELL, MAN!" Yelled confused Master of Magic, calling for more and more heads turn in the hallway. Ben promptly fell to Jonathan's feet, hugged his Doc Martens and exclaimed: " My heart is yours, Jonny, all yours! do with me as you please!" Some snickered, some exclaimed "what the fu*k?" Teachers popped their heads out of the classrooms, assessing the commotion. Bewildered, Jonathan grabbed Ben by the arm and dragged the delirious boy outside, accompanied by wolf howls, whistles and roars of laughter. "-What the hell is wrong with you?" yelled Jonathan pacing back and forth outside. "And where is Holly?" "-Holly?" repeated Ben, clearly confused by the mention of his sister. "Don't you worry about her, Jonny, she is not an obstacle for us anymore!" "-Quit that shit with calling me Jonny!" Roared Jonathan in a nervous breaking voice. Ben smiled patronly "-As you wish!" and once again he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jonathan. "-WHAT THE FU*K IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Yelled Jonathan, shaking the clingy thirteen-year old off, "And what do you mean 'she is not an obstacle'?" Ben stood back, straightened out and with a glazed look dryly recited: "The mountains shall crumble should we not be together. accept my heart as I am accepting yours. And as for my sister" - he added suddenly in a normal voice and manner- "She is taken care of, because only I can love you" A terrible realization has dawned on Jonathan. The Incantation he so brazenly read yesterday was meant to be read by Patricia. He, a sixteen-year old master of darkness, lacking proper education, could not have understood the intricacies of Old Russian curses. What has he done!? He looked back at the school building where gawkers pooled to the exit doors to witness this drama. Jonathan clutched his hair, screamed and ran inside to find his sister.

Classroom 20B remained in chaos. Several students threw up, some had fainted and some sobbed inconsolably. Mr. Robertson dialed 911 and was telling some incoherent tale to the operator. Patricia slithered to the wall, keeping her non-blinking gaze at lifeless Parsley. She leaned on the wall and edged slowly to the exit. Leaving the cursed room she appeared in the hallway, avoiding streams of teachers running towards such ungodly screams. Her shocked mind, sped up by adrenalin, seemed to perceive everything in slow motion. Here is Mrs. Abel floating by, here are the students from room 20A, pressing their faces to the rectangle glass of the door and their worried teacher ushering them away. She saw Jonathan running to her from the opposite end of school and suddenly she snapped out of her daze: "Jonathan!"

Ben pulled a small heart-shaped locket out of his pocket. Sadly looked at it and dropping it to the ground whispered: "So be it. I wanted to be with Patricia anyway.." as the locket dropped to the ground, its tiny metallic sound resonated, sending waves of betrayed promises and angry curses through the ground. The ground shook and scarred, enormous cracks opening their hungry maws and swallowing the school, and then the entire town. The book of Russian spells and Curses yet again appeared in the window of an old shop in Cincinnati. Noticing the dark manuscript, yet again assuming the spot on the empty pedestal, the shop keeper spat on the floor and cursed in Russian: "Tvoyu Mat!" He took of his plaid hat off and scratched his left horn. Clicked his tongue and let out a quiet laughter that rolled through the cobwebs in the corners of the store, shaking vials of poisons and rattling the chained boxes. "They never learn, do they?" He smiled, turning to unnerved young lady, who entered the shop, clutching onto her bag. "Try this, my dear.. this should do the trick! And if it doesn't - the shop of Doomsday Trinkets is always at your service"