"See brother, see! how graciously

She looketh down upon him!"

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

October 30^th, 2001.

Ash awoke at seven fifteen. He followed his morning routine of showering, putting on clothes, and stumbling downstairs for breakfast.

" Well look who’s up. If it isn’t Rip Van Winkle himself. Sleep well?"

Ash muttered unintelligibly.

" Aren’t we in a mood today then? Eggs for the sleepyhead?"

" No thanks, ma. Toast."

" Going all out for ourselves on our birthday I see. How old are you anyway, kid?"

" You should lay off the drugs ma, you’re forgetting your firstborn. As of twelve this morning, I’m fifteen years old."

" Are you now. Why it seems like yesterday you were a precocious five-year-old. At least the precocious part stayed."

" Spare me. I’ve got school."

Ash grabbed his toast and rushed out the door.

Ash was not his birth name, but a nickname given to him by his father, because of his cloudy gray eyes and his admiration of horror movie hero Ash from the "Evil Dead" trilogy of films. The bus screeched to a halt in front of him. He walked up the steps and boarded his usual spot. One behind the emergency exit in the middle and on the left. Ash had a tough decision to make that morning. Listen to his CD player, or study for his Math exam. Which to choose. Ash was leaning toward CD player when his best friend Phil sat down beside him.

" Hey."

" Morning. What do you think? CD player or math studying? I can’t choose."

" I’d have to go with studying there, man. I was perusing the school records and saw that you’re failing Math again along with French."

" Screw French. I bet it’s as dead as Latin inside 50 years."

" You’re on, Mon ami. Twenty bucks."

" Done. A fool and his money are soon parted, my dear Phil."

" Oh yeah! I almost forgot. Wait a second."

Phil reached into his bag, pulled out a small gift wrapped box, and handed it to Ash.

" Pour vous, there, Frenchie."

" Shut up with the French all ready. Thanks."

Ash opened the parcel. A small Egyptian ankh stared back at him.

" Cool! I’ve always wanted one. Thanks again."

" Don’t mention it. I mean it. Anyways, the young lady I bought it from said it would bring luck. Figured you’d need it, what with your upcoming test and all."

" I’m going to need all the luck I can get to pass Math this term."

Ash picked up the ankh and put it around his neck. For a split-second, the eye of the Ankh flashed. Neither of them noticed. Moments later, a chill ran through Ash’s body.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

" Aaagh!" A loud, pulsing buzz entered Ash’s head. He clutched at his temples in agony.

" Are you all right?" asked Phil.

Ash was about to respond with a scathing "Does it look like I’m all right to you!" when the pain subsided. A calm, soothing voice entered his head.

" I’m sorry for the pain, Ash, but it is often necessary in times like these. Tell Philip that you’re all right."

" I’m all right." croaked Ash.

" Ask him to switch seats with you," the voice continued, "it is imperative that you don’t have the window seat today."

Mesmerized by the voice in his head that was not his own, Ash asked Phil to switch spots with him.

" Sure. Are you feeling all right, Ash?" inquired Phil.

" Yeah, I’m all right. Maybe a little carsick is all."

" Maybe you should go see the nurse when we get off. You’re as white as a sheet."

" Ash. In five minutes, this bus, and most of the people on it, will be killed."

" What?"

" Who are you talking to?"

" No one. Just thinking out loud. Sorry." Ash replied.

" Think the words in your head, Ash. No one must know their fate other than you. You are integral to the cause. Now. In two minutes, you will jump into the aisle on your left, and crawl under the opposite seat. If you do not, you will die."