A Thousand Roads to Happiness (a novel) by Daphne Jolley BA, Colorado State University A CREATIVE THESIS submitted to Southern New Hampshire University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing School of Liberal Arts June 1, 2015 This thesis has been examined and approved. _____________________________________ Faculty name and title Thesis Director ______________________________________ Faculty name and title Jolley 1 CHAPTER ONE Lyssa Mr. Rolfe is supposed to keep his lectures for the religious option, History and Theory of Music. That's why I take Choir, the practical application. So when he uses the modern arrangement of "Thousand Roads" as an excuse to preach to us, I try to tune out. It's the first time in weeks that I actually wish I could get lost in some other place, so I wouldn't have to sit through this. "Imagine your future: a long road stretching out in front of you. Most of you will go first to college, then marriage and careers and children. Is this a journey you'd like to take on your own? It's possible, I suppose," although his tone suggests it's a fate worse than death, "but consider how much nicer would it be if the Harmonies are there beside you?" I love the idea. Who wouldn't want faceless voices to sing the world into a better state? I don't need his sermon to realize it would be nice to have them beside me on my journey. However, it's been a long time since I believed in fairy tales. "Remember that as you travel life's path, you're never alone. Either the Harmonies are with you, or you're walking beside Discord..." As he drones on, music hums softly. Mr. Rolfe should yell at someone to turn that music off, but he keeps talking. I look around, trying to find the source. No one else reacts at all. Fine, I can ignore it, too. It grows louder, but no one else so much as fidgets. The harmony swells into a crescendo. It drowns out Mr. Rolfe and the entire class. I jump when the dismissal bell sounds. Class can't be over. It just started. I don't have my notebook with me, which is a relief: a new picture can't have formed while I listened to that music. I wend my way to the side and search for Tanya. There: I catch a glimpse of shiny blond Jolley 2 hair before she's swallowed by the mob again. She slips her way to my side of the hall. Despite her three-inch heels, I tower over her. It's a good thing she's as nice as she is pretty. Together, we walk towards our lockers. "What's wrong?" she asks. My stomach clenches. I smile. "I'm fine." I feel her eyes on my face. I watch the shifting bodies for both of us. My heart pounds, and I mentally roll my eyes at myself. As if Tanya would ever try to hurt me, or even push me too far. We both know to leave the other alone after I'm fine. If I had any idea what's happening to me, maybe I could talk about it. But how do I explain that either I'm hallucinating or I’m possessed? Neither option is either reasonable or believable. "Are you hungry, or can we skip lunch?" My breath escapes in a silent sigh. My smile feels more natural. "I'm saladed out." "Me, too. Can you help me with the Calc homework?" "After all the times you've helped me," I say, "I don't know if I can return the favor. The library?" "That's where I was thinking." I sing the tune and my locker opens. I grab my notebook and close it again. I still don't understand how the locks work. There are identical twins in our year. They sound even more alike than they look, yet their lockers can tell them apart. Of course, the school lockers are set to open for either the assigned student or the principal or secretary. Harmonies forbid they actually trust us. You'd think we live in Moavsed, the way we're treated: like it's a crime to be a teenager. Tanya already has her notebook, so we head straight for the second floor. Posters lining the walls invite us to a meeting to Help us discover the Prom theme. Jolley 3 "Really?" I ask. "Prom's what, six months away? Who needs to even think about it yet?" "Oh, it gets better. I overheard someone suggest The Found Princess. The idea being that the Prom Queen could pretend to be Princess Melyssande for the day." "By the Harmonies," I manage through my laughter. "Can you even imagine the principal's reaction? He'd threaten expulsions." Tanya speeds up. "You shouldn't even joke about that." Din, I silently swear. She gets uptight about expulsion and exile. Yeah, expulsion would be horrendous, even if they managed to survive without the air purifiers of the city: having to live in the Wilds, with no stores or farmland; buried poison bombs and land mines that could be anywhere; no one around but other exiles. If we lived a couple of hundred years ago, I wouldn't joke about it. Now, though, the people at the Expulsion Office have to think someone's a threat to society before they'll expel them. And I'm sorry, but murderers completely deserve that fate. "I said 'threaten.' It was a joke. You know tackiness isn't a crime." What was the Prom committee thinking? I love romance as much as the next girl, but being the missing princess would turn into tragedy way too quickly for anyone to want to be her. How could they forget the prophecy? When the Princess reaches two and twenty, she will take the throne and the Banora dynasty will end. I shiver. I feel for the king and queen. They're wonderful rulers, and they deserve happiness. I even feel for Prince Michael, who never got to know his big sister. Maybe the loss, and his parents' continuing sorrow, explains some of his wildness. Even so, I hope the princess is never found; at least, not until she's at least twenty-three and the prophecy is foiled. The last time a dynasty fell, half our world was destroyed in the wars. I don't want the other half to go, especially not in my lifetime. Jolley 4 When we get to the library, I know we'll have plenty of silence for our tutoring session. There isn't even a solitary figure or two pretending they aren't hungry. We sit at the first table. It's closest to the librarian, so it has the least graffiti. Even so, I see several dins and discords, and even a mis-spelled cacophony that no one has managed to buff out. About a hundred years ago, these light-up desks were the latest fad. My guess is, the school got them about eighty years ago. Only this first table lights at all anymore, and it's got a short, so the red lights flash intermittently. "Number five, right?" I pull up my Calc homework. She fiddles with the friendship ring on her finger. I automatically reach for mine. "You didn't have problems with math. Why the lie?" "You're falling apart, Lys. I don't know what's going on, but you can trust me. Whatever's bothering you, it won’t disappear on its own. Let me help." Normally, I tell her everything before she even asks. Why can't she leave this alone? I head for the door before she even has a chance to stand up. I hear her heels clicking on the tiled floor behind me when I'm half way down the hall. I don't look back. Why does she think it's okay to ignore me when I say I'm fine, but she won't talk to me about anything in her life? Other than her missing dad, her life is pretty much perfect. There's no way she'll understand this - this insanity. Possibly literal. The caf will be full of our friends. Hiding out in the bathroom all lunch is too pathetic, even for me. If I felt like returning to the library, I'd have to walk past her to get there. I go outside. My only friends to come out here actually play gravball. If I stand in the audience, no one will notice I'm there. I pretend to care about one of the games in the courtyard. It doesn't take long for the pretense to become reality; Matias is second goalie. The only question anyone has for me outside is which guy I like, and they don't even care enough to wait for my answer. Most of the girls cheer Jolley 5 for Greg, the first goalie, even though second goalie's the harder job. It's so much easier to block a player’s kicks and throws, like the first goalie does. When the ball gets sucked through a portal and comes from a random direction, with the added twist of the gravity disruptor making its speed another unknown, it's almost impossible to block. I've collected my share of bruises from playing second goalie. Matias, though, saves more balls than he lets through. I'm not the only girl who cheers him on.