phoenixhyperion

**READ ME**

THIS BOOK WILL BE UNDER REVISION.

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My name? Lance Augustus
Age? 15
Nickname? Five. 
Why they call me that? Because the mark tells us so. 
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"Don't be stupid, steer out of trouble, and whatever happens, stay alive." 

I really don't know why Dad always repeat those words to me everyday. I take heed of his words. Play by his rules, never dared to go against him except if it's extremely necessary.

He's all that I need to get by. Our life was ordinary. Everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal, just an everyday routine we get used to live. But then this guy calling himself 'The Seeker' came... And he start making a mess out of my life. 

He said I have powers. - Who believe that crap?
He said I have extraordinary abilities. - Cool! I want to be Superman.
He said I was chosen. - Who? The god of newbie bullies? 
The mark of five imprinted deep into my skin proves that I am one of the TWELVE. - You sure it's not a tattoo? I firmly believe it's a tattoo. 

I never believe him. I drove him out. I did not listen. I wish I did. Maybe he could have help me. Maybe he could have save me from the trouble of falling right into their trap. I know nothing. Because of my stubbornness I lost everything. So now I'm all alone. But she stretch her hand to me. She gave me hope. She invited me to come. And I did. 

So our search began. For the remaining TEN.
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They called me FIVE

Dad pull off to a hardware store and bought five pails of paint, two paint roller,s and paint trays. At first, I have no idea what he'll use these things for. I busied myself eating the fiesta tacos I bought from the cart of white guy with shaggy hair beside the hardware.


Dad parked in a remote alleyway where dump trash and cats in heat are our only audience. He forced me to get my ass off the passenger seat and help him cover the logo and 'Your best pizza in town' sign on the side truck with paint.


"And exactly why are we doing this?" I plunge the paint roller on the tray and began smudging the ugly cartoon man on a chef hat. His two big eyeballs gone missing, wiped clean.


"So we won't get caught. The owner must have reported his missing truck. So we better cover our tracks before they fine us."


New place