Dracolorica

Fantasy; 75,000 words  (Honors Thesis)

Samantha wants nothing more than to return home to her family on Earth. But she’s trapped in Serratia, an ancient kingdom floating in the clouds, and her family wouldn’t even recognize her if she showed up at their door.

At least, that’s what her new friend Jake tells her.

Though she aches for home, Samantha decides to stay when she learns she’s the key to a war that could destroy both Serratia and Earth. By staying, she can protect her family from harm—and escape the cruel mockery of her former best friends, who humiliated her so completely, she wished she could disappear.

The longer Samantha spends in Serratia, the more she falls in love with its blend of magic and modern technology—and her new hot crush, Charles Gold. But when she discovers her family is falling apart, convinced she’s dead, Samantha faces a heartbreaking choice: defend the world where she finally belongs, or risk everything to return home and save the family she loves.

If I had known that today would be the day I officially died, I definitely could have convinced Mom to let me ditch school. Instead of the sick routine, I could’ve said, “But Mom, if you send me to school, a dragon will kidnap me and I’ll be forced to live in this crappy kingdom on the clouds. You see, I might be the one in this prophecy about the cloud worlds destroying themselves, and some people take this kind of seriously.”

I don’t think even Mom could say no to that one.

But I didn’t know that stuff yet, and I couldn’t tell her the real reason I didn’t want to go. She thought Katrina and Heather were nice, sweet girls. I didn’t want to break her illusions by telling her I was secretly wishing they’d rot in hell. Then I’d have to say why, and I didn’t want to think about yesterday.

So I guess I could forgive her lack of sympathy when she said, “You’re taking Jenny to school, and that’s final.”

“Fine,” I snapped, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder. “But you’re the worst mom ever, and—”

“I know, I don’t understand you,” said Mom.

My younger sister Jenny giggled as she ate a bowl of cereal. Black kohl darkened the edges of her eyelids, her blue eyes sparkling with delight as she listened to Mom and me argue. Since she was graduating from middle school in two months, she was convinced she no longer need Mom’s parental authority, so they butted heads a lot. I guess she liked having the heat off her for a change.

“You both suck,” I said.

But Mom smiled. “We love you, too.”

I rolled my eyes and slammed the front door behind me. It reopened a moment later, and Jenny scrambled after me in her three-inch platform sandals. I didn’t stop, too annoyed at her lack of sisterly loyalty.

Jenny yanked at my messenger bag. “Sara, slow down!”

“Don’t do that,” I said sharply, pulling my messenger bag away from her.

We ignored each other as we walked toward school. The sunlight fell through the thin clouds, warming the tops of our heads and glistening in the small drops of dew on the grass. Tiny flowers poked out of the dirt, the buds brilliant shades of yellow and purple and pink. A few of our neighbors puttered in their gardens, mowing the grass or pulling weeds, and they waved at us as we passed by. It felt weird to see people actually happy.

Jenny pulled out a compact mirror and checked her lip gloss, almost falling over a crack in the uneven sidewalk. I snorted but didn’t say anything. As she turned to glare at me, a Mustang convertible pulled up beside us, hip-hop blaring from the speakers. Thanks to the loud bass, I could practically feel the cement tremble beneath my flip-flops.

Ugh. It was Frank. He was a sophomore like me, but he always hit on girls at least three years younger than him. Thanks to his Mustang and rich parents, he thought he was the shit.

“Hey pretty ladies.” I’m sure he thought he was smooth and sexy, but he sounded more like he had coated his vocal cords with grease. “Want a ride?”

Jenny flipped her perfectly curled blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled at him. Jenny, I should probably mention, is annoyingly beautiful, especially because she spends hours in front of the mirror making sure of it.

“Yea—” she started to say.

I stepped on Jenny’s foot—or tried to, anyway. Since her platform sandals were so high, I missed and stumbled into her. She snatched at my bag to regain her balance but I dodged out of the way.

“Thanks, but we can’t,” I told Frank, taking advantage of Jenny’s distraction. “Our mom has a strict rule against riding in cars with boys.”

“That’s too bad. If you ever do want a ride”—he raised one eyebrow suggestively—“you know where to find me.” He revved his engine and took off with a burst of speed.

“God, he’s so dumb,” I muttered, glancing at Jenny to see if she agreed. She didn’t. Her face was twisted into such a look of disgust, I was surprised I didn’t drop dead right then and there.

“What crawled up your butt and died?” Jenny demanded.

“Ew! Please don’t tell me you’re into him,” I said. “Frank’s disgusting.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits and I braced myself, knowing it was about to get ugly.

“Does this,” she said with the air of someone about to drop a bomb, “have anything to do with Heather and Katrina?”

My heart felt like it had been slammed between two tons of bricks. As an eighth grader, she went to a different school—so how did she know? Who had told her? My mouth went dry and I shot her a fake disgusted look, but she saw right through me.

“It does, doesn’t it?” She challenged my poisonous look with one of her own. “You got embarrassed in front of all the sophomores, and now you take it out on me. Typical.”

When I spoke again, my voice was low. “This has nothing to do with Katrina and
Heather.”

“So that’s why you pretended to be sick.” Jenny continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Everyone’s talking about it, you know.”

I felt dizzy, already imagining how today would go. Everyone would whisper as I walked by, some not bothering to hide their pointing fingers. A stupid jock would call out a bad joke, there would be laughter, and then the real mocking would begin.

Shaking my head, I turned around. There was no way I was going to school today, detention or not.

“Where’re you going?” Jenny yelled after me.

I didn’t bother to turn around. “Home.”

“But—you’re straightedge!” Jenny sounded genuinely astonished. “You even do all your homework!”

I kept walking. If only I’d known she would be attending my funeral in a couple of weeks, I would have told her I loved her.