Beryllium

By Kristen Hata

When college student Halima Alexander is beckoned by Angel Falls, she is encompassed in an enticing new dimension of secrets, where myth becomes truth—entangling the teenager in a mysterious web of love, passion, danger and power from her past and present life.
Frightening visions haunt Halima until she meets, Reid—a man who sets her blood on fire. He provides Halima with answers, but she senses he’s hiding something. Disregarding her feelings, Halima vows to protect her family and friends even if it costs her life.
Halima and seven chosen guardians are given a gift that anchors them to saving billions of lives. If they pass the test—purity will begin to resurface and light will return to Earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristen Hata
• Release date: Apr 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9780983077626

Kristen Hata

I wake up every day and think to myself...this is the best day of my life.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

There was a time when Earth was pure, land was plentiful and harmony cloaked the surface of the planet. Celestial entities continuously teleported to Earth from different dimensions and back. After inhabiting Earth’s terrene for billions of years curiosity led the Celestial to develop the desire to taste, and feel the vibrations of life just as animals do.

They attentively observed the magical properties of plants; coaxing them to reveal the secret of subsisting with only water and sun. The plants willingly shared their knowledge and opened a door that would eventually become their misfortune.

Slowly the Celestial focused on constructing energy to form a mass that could be used to explore—creating five senses essential to connecting with the planet’s vibrations. They continued to fill themselves with the purity of water for millions of years—concocting a molecular build of ninety nine percent water and plasma.

Communication consisted of one language composed of electromagnetic waves; work was required to maintain balance and unceasing research expanded knowledge at incalculable measures. However, their growing curiosity and experimentation befouled the Celestial studies—studies of wildlife in particular which initiated a toxic change in their diet.

A dauntless institution of Celestial researchers proceeded to eat plants, and slowly progressed to a carnivorous fare of bugs and fish. When they started to feel a flux in emotion—gravely mistaking aggression as strength and power—the experimentations turned catastrophic. The Celestial pallet adjusted to a favorable taste for raw meat and larger animals.

The molecular composition of the researchers gradually transformed and mutilated their peaceful souls into amicable, but selfish physical bodies.

The flesh eaters became outcasts and recognized as a group called Vamiens. These outcasts were locked away until cured of their carnivorous diet. Restless with their unquenchable thirst for knowledge, the Vamiens peacefully fled the Celestial community, and created a nonpareil Vamien Empire of immortal creatures with newfound power. They thrived and grew stronger through studies of energy manipulation with the natural magnetic spheres of Earth.

Celestial entities continued in attempts to save the Vamiens for thousands of years with unfaltering hope that water and sun would prevail—only to find that the Vamiens begun to replace water with meat, plants and energy absorption entirely.

Vamiens lost the ability to travel between dimensions and their origin in the boundless galaxy was slowly forgotten. Their purity was devoured by darkness.

Despair descended upon the Celestial spirits—dividing land between the Celestial and the Vamien Empire—bringing an end to peace on Earth.

Chapter 1

THIS TRIP WILL CHANGE YOU HALIMA ALEXANDER, I CAN FEEL IT, she said.

But why Venezuela…I don’t want to go there, I hold my head in one hand and stuff a heaping spoon full of oatmeal squares in my mouth with the other. Here mom goes again with another one of her crazy notions.

My yellow lab Nanu eagerly waits for pieces to drop.

Halima, I never ask you to do anything! Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise, Mom says, pleadingly. Pleeaase?

Ugh. It’s so hard to say no to mom. She hardly asks for anything, so when she does—there’s usually a good reason.

Fiiiine, I let out a long sigh of defeat.

Mom slaps my butt triumphantly. Woohoo! Angel Falls, here we come!

Ow! I gasp, pouring the leftover milk into the sink.

My mother, Beryl Alexander had a difficult childhood. She was found as a baby on a farmer’s doorstep somewhere on the east coast and put up for adoption. You’d think that a couple who couldn’t have kids would spoil their adopted child rotten. Unfortunately, mom got the exact opposite—all she was to them was a poster child. She was used as something to show off to friends, only to make themselves look good to the community—nothing more.

That’s probably why she moved out at seventeen, finished college in three years, then attended nursing school, and had Cayce and I at a young age. She always promised to give us the life she never had—and she has, wholeheartedly.

So what’s with these waterfalls? I begin packing veggie tofu stir fry in my Nightmare Before Christmas lunch box. Is there energy radiating from them or alien sightings? I ask and hum the Twilight Zone tune.

Very funny, Mom rolls her eyes. I had a dream about Angel Falls.

Throughout the past fifteen years, mom’s fascination with metaphysics has exponentially grown with age. Soon enough, understanding the world in every aspect, from the nature of existence, to the study of causality started to really catch my attention in high school because it’s a subject that’s usually avoided. Actually, I think it’s forbidden in all public schools. Hmm…now why would that be?

You did? I exclaim in excitement. So did I!

Really?! she clasps her hands together—hopeful that I’m inheriting her visionary gift. Mom has an acute sense of knowing what’s going to happen in the future, through dreams mostly. I guess you can call it a super intense gut feeling or a freakishly strong form of a mother’s intuition, but whatever it is—it works.

Just kidding, I chuckle.

Oh my god, you’re such an evil little gremlin, Mom pushes me out of the kitchen and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. Hurry up and go to class, you’re going to be late.

Rummaging through my backpack I find my car keys and the lip balm that has been missing for weeks. Leila, our faithful pest controller, pounces toward me and rubs up against my jeans.

Hello my little tiger, I say, taking both sides of her face and scratch behind her ears.

Halima! Good morning! a heavy New York accent says.

I look up and see Mr. Minkowsky loading his three sons into the car for school. Each one had a different Marvel super hero on their kippah—so cute.

Mr. Minkowsky! Did you save me any latkes like you promised?

Of course! Come over anytime and my wife will make it for you, fresh! he says with a big warm smile and climbs into the driver’s seat.

The three little boys wave good-bye through the back windows, and I wave back as I watch the van disappear down the street.

Sometimes I envy those kids because they have such a cool father. When mom talks about dad it’s heartbreaking. She claims he was the only man who understood her—so well in fact, that she believed he was able to read her mind. I think he was the only guy she has ever really loved, but immediately after I was born, he disappeared without a trace.

Cayce offered to help mom look for him once, but she said it was a dead end—evidently there are no records or documents showing that our father ever existed. As weird as it sounds, it’s almost as if he was a figment of mom’s imagination.

She said he treated her like a queen and loved Cayce wholeheartedly, doing everything in his power to keep them healthy, safe and happy…until I was born.

Mom never blamed me for dad’s sudden disappearance, but any outsider looking in would find it strange for a perfectly happy couple to be broken up after the birth of their daughter. Literally—it was barely an hour after I took my first breath that my father ran away.

But rather than despising my father for leaving us, I’ve always given him the benefit of the doubt. There has to be a good reason why mom fell in love with him in the first place. Who knows? He might have been a secret agent for the government and the only way to protect us was to leave.

The idea isn’t entirely farfetched because mom said all he could tell her about his occupation, was that he helps save and protect the lives that will positively affect the future. But his disappearance always made me wonder if we weren’t worth protecting anymore.

I guess you can say my mom’s best friend, who we call Uncle Benny, has been a true father figure. He’s there for us no matter what, so maybe that’s why I never had a complex about my biological dad leaving.

Regardless of the situation, watching mom work hard to take care of Cayce and I has taught us a lot. Laziness in our family of three is considered unacceptable and we’re never allowed to say that we’re bored. If we have time to be bored then we’re not utilizing our time wisely.

I start the car for school and sit in silence while the engine purs against the cold morning air. I bring my hand to my mouth for warmth to stop them from shaking. My eyes stare blankly at the garage door remembering the things mom just said about her dream.

Could it be the waterfall that I’ve been dreaming about since I was little? I look in my rear view mirror, my blue eyes stare back, and I laugh to myself. There’s no way.

I shift the car into reverse and head toward the freeway.

Chapter 2

Los Angeles traffic is the worst—especially when you drive with manual transmission. However, I always try to remind myself that the traffic is definitely worth being a UCLA Bruin. It took a lot of hard work to get the grants that I did, and I didn’t want mom to stress about the tuition so I took as many AP courses I could. Now, there’s really only three years of college left, and thanks to financial aid, things are looking up.

Unlike my brother, I was always kind of a loner—not by default, but by choice. Besides my passion for basketball, kids my age were interested in other things. Parties, sex, drugs and rise in social status seemed to be the favorable trend in high school. Basketball, documentaries and books were my forte, so it was difficult to relate to them.

Plus, I was born with these weird birthmarks on my body that look a lot like burn marks, so I usually just call them scars. The one on my neck looks like a tomahawk nailed me. I knew it freaked people out at school, but they were too nice to say anything. I always got a kick out of watching people try to focus on the areas of my face that that aren’t scarred, but it’s like when someone has a huge zit on their face…you can’t help but stare at it.

The one thing I’m grateful for is my long black hair and bangs. It hides most of the marks on my face, but I still pretty much keep to myself to spare everyone else the awkwardness. Besides, all I really care about is knowledge—about everything, so the social aspect of my life never bothered me at all. Especially because I have three amazing friends and a really cool brother, Cayce.

We used to fight a lot about stupid stuff, but he’s twenty three now and has matured a lot. Cayce was the typical popular jock in high school and played every sport but badminton. It’s uncanny how people are drawn to him in a way that’s almost hypnotic, but it’s funny because he’s so oblivious to his wit and charm. He was always and still is really lucky too. Powerful business men and women willingly took him under their wing throughout high school and college—teaching him everything they knew.

Cayce always looked for ways to make money for the family. Growing up without a father made it hard on us financially so in high school he would order clothes and toys in bulk from random wholesalers, then sell them at swap meets or yard sales. As soon as he saved enough money for a laptop, he became an e-trade guru and was able to cover the rent and most of the food.

Now, after many successful business endeavors, he’s the president of his own event coordinating company.

I rarely get to see him, but he calls all the time to check in. Especially, since I started college. Sometimes when I get upset or stressed he calls—even if he has already called that day. It’s like he has a sixth sense.

Which reminds me—I should let him know mom and I are going to Venezuela, or he’ll be pissed if we wait and tell him last minute.

I reach for my phone.

It rings once.

Yo, Cayce whispers. He’s probably at work.

Sorry, are you in a meeting? I whisper back.

No.

Liar.

What’s up Hali? He sounds a little annoyed. I can’t shoot the shit right now.

Sorry, mom and I are going to see the Angel Falls in Venezuela.

What? his whispering got louder.

I said, mom and I are going to Venezuela to see…

Why? When? Just the two of you? he cuts me off.

Yeah, next week for spring break. You know mom and her dreams, I pull into the parking lot.

Cayce takes in a slow deep breath. I can imagine him probing at his temples even though he’s never once experienced a headache. He only does it when a hundred things are running through his mind at once.

Okay, let me talk to my partner and let him know I’ll be taking next week off.

You’re going to come? I shriek with excitement. It’s been so long since I got to spend a whole week with my big brother.

Well, who else is going to save you from falling on your face when hiking up a big ass cliff?

Speak for yourself mister I-trip-on-pinecones-while-jogging and eat shit, I laugh.

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It was dark outside, he says. Anyway, I’ll have my assistant arrange the trip for us. Tell mom not to worry about it.

Alright, I pull into a parking spot, but you know mom is going to get mad because you always pay for everything.

She’ll get over it. Call me later.

Alright, I say. Bye bro.

Later Hali.

Yessssss! I knew Cayce wouldn’t like me and mom traveling alone. Now we get to spend a whole week with him. Besides, he works too much anyway, and deserves a break. So does mom—working thirteen hour shifts at the hospital takes a toll on your body no matter what anyone says.

I reach for my lip balm and fix the rear view mirror so I can see myself. The light brown birth marks on my face look more pronounced today—especially the long one on the side of my neck. Luckily they’re not nearly as bad as the ones on my feet and legs. Mom still can’t figure out why I was born with them and every visit to the dermatologist has left us in the dark.

All they ever do is repeatedly ask, are you sure she didn’t burn herself? and judge mom with crossed arms and suspiciously raised eyebrows. So I’ve just come to accept my unexplainable skin condition. Besides, Cayce always tells me that beauty is found in imperfection, and above all, thinks the marks look badass. Boys.

I hurriedly stuff a bunch of books from the backseat into my backpack and step out of my car. When I go to lock the door, the latch on my lunchbox comes undone and tofu splatters everywhere. Great, now what am I going to eat?

As I get down to scoop up the stir fry I hear footsteps from behind running toward me.

Five second rule! someone shouts.

Chapter 3

I look to see who made the stupid comment—annoyed—because now I don’t have lunch. As I try getting up I lose my balance and fall backward. Big strong hands catch me by the shoulders and pull me up.

Whoa! I gasp.

Damn, you must drop your lunch all the time, he says playfully. You weigh less than my nine-year-old nephew.

Un-amused I slowly turn to face my hero. My jaw falls open. I could feel the blood from every inch of my body flow to my face. Aiden Knight. The senior star basketball player is looking down at