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BROINEEDMOREICANTHELPTHEEXCITEMENTANYMORE

I wish I could write this good~

GOOD?ARE YOU KIDDING?AWESOME~!MORE MORE!

PROLOGUE

My heart rate was untellable. All I can say is, it was fast. And I don't mean just as if you finished a suspenseful movie or anything like that. My heart was racing as if I just ran 10 heart-throbbing, unforgivable miles.
The man jerked his hand forward, palm up, inches away from my face. But it was fuzzy, considering he was standing on the shattered glass that was my glasses.
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he growled at me angrily, panting between each word, "Give me that BOX. You don't want to know what happens if you don't put it in my hands this very minute!" His voice raised louder, word-by-word, until he was shouting, his thick spit splashing onto my face. I held the box closely to my side. I heard a shrill, shaky voice screech "No!" I wasn’t surprised to discover it was my own.
The man (Who I will refer to as Moonscar from the crescent moon-shaped scar covering the left side of his face.) was about to slice me when a scream was heard behind him. He turned to a little girl with tears streaked down her face, her hazel eyes showing unimaginable fear.
My sister.
"Nadette! Run away!" I heard the voice -- Oh, wait, MY voice -- screeched. She looked at me, past Moonscar's stare. Shouting at me, I could only hear the shouts and screams from all the other terrorism going on right now. OPEN IT, she had said.
She was right. What other choice do I have?
Moonscar immediately jerked his head back to me, knowing what I was about to do. He raised his sword to finish me off, but it was too late. My sweaty palms fumbled with the miniscule chest, and I opened it.
A dark violet aura burst out from this small chest. It headed straight towards me. Then. . . I felt this, strange sensation. . .
The last thing I saw was her beautiful face.
Smiling at me.

CHAPTER ONE

Her eyes twinkled with excitement.
She was looking at a boy that the group found lying on the beach, unconscious and clutching a small chest-thing in his hand. "What do you think he's like?" She asked a boy that was with her. He has the same jet black hair as she, along with the same pale blue eyes (Although he was a mouse and she was a monkey, and they weren’t related.). He shook his head doubtfully.
"Hopefully nothing like Lee." Another boy -blond with gray fur, somewhere around 11 to 12, and a scar on his right eye- smacked the other boy upside the head. "Not funny, Zavier." The boy -Lee- remarked.
Another male -green fur, with chestnut brown hair, around 12- laughed. Both other boys glared at him. "What's so funny Seth?" Zavier asked, not enjoying the boy laughing at Lee smacking him. The girl shushed all of them, which is surprising considering she was the youngest and smallest of all of them, being only 8. "He's waking up!"
This made all three boys snap to attention. And she was right. The boy opened his eyes slowly, his caramel-colored hair hanging in his face. He saw her face, beaming down on him. His eyes snapped open then, jerking himself to sit upright in the bed.
"Who are-?! What am.. Where am--!?" He stammered until her finger pressed against his soft lips.
"It's okay. It's alright. You're fine." she said assuringly, like a mom to her scared little child who just heard a loud gunshot. All three boys stood open-mouthed. How could she talk to him so calmly like that?
The boy calmed down a bit, but he still seemed alert. The girl sighed, smiling still. "So, I'm Amberly. That's Zavier, Lee, and Seth," She spoke, pointing to each boy in turn when she said their names, "What's your name?" She asked, eyes twinkling again.
"I. . . I don't remember."
All four of them gaped at that remark. "What do you mean you don't remember!?" Lee yelled at the boy. The boy clutched his fists together. "I just DON'T, Okay!?" He snapped back. Amberly put her hands on the boys shoulders as if to hold him back. Zavier and Seth did the same to Lee. "Okay, Okay, so you don't remember your name. Big deal! Most of our names get changed anyways since our parents didn't give us here with a name." Amberly sighed. Zavier volunteered to do name him. "How about . . . Marcus?" The boy shook his head, his shoulder-long hair whipping with it. "How about Lee?" Seth joked, getting glares from his friends, and a playful slap. Lee's turn. "Well. . . I'd say you looked like a. . . Huh. . . Mason?"
The boy smiled and nodded. "Yes. I like that name." He said. Amberly smiled. "Well, then it's nice to meet ya, Mason!"
Mason's purpled eyes smiled at Amberly. "Right back at ya, Amberly!" He joked. Zavier raised his eyebrows. "Hey, wait a minute. . . You have a British accent, don't you?" Mason shrugged. "I don't know. . . What's British?"
All four kids stared at Mason, then at each other, and then back at Mason.
This seemed to go on forever until Seth smacked the palm of his hand on his forehead. "Oh, duh! Mason has amnesia." He said. It took a few seconds for that to soak into their minds, but then they got it. It makes perfect sense now! They thought. Mason was still sitting on the bed confused. He looked around and found a ponytail holder. He picked it up and studied it. Putting his hair up in the back, he secured it tightly with the holder. Now looking back to the four other kids talking among themselves, he decided he needed to ask a question.
"So, where AM I, exactly?"
They exchanged worried glances. Zavier swallowed what seemed like a huge lump down his throat, and stepped once towards him.
"Mason. . . You're in an orphanage."