An excerpt from Seeking Asylum:
Ollie stepped in front of Bea and a confused Timothy.
He swallowed before stammering, “H-hey, guys.”
Quintin, Jack, and Christopher all advanced towards them like wolves seeking their prey. Bea nervously grabbed onto Timothy’s armrest.
“Hey, Ollie,” said Quintin. “How are you feeling?”
He gave a start. “How am I feeling?”
“Yeah, you’ve been sick, right?”
“Why else would you be hanging around in that loony bin?” Jack finished. His friends laughed and he added, “Oh, yeah. We’ve seen you and that little brat go in there. We always knew you were just as screwed up as those patients.”
Bea shivered, both from the malice in his tone and the cold temperature. It was snowing in the corridor, now, and ice sprang up beneath her feet.
“Timothy,” Ollie said, with good intentions, “get out of here.”
His former friends suddenly spotted the other teenager. They pushed past Ollie and towered over a glowering Timothy.
“Oh my god,” Christopher said. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“One of those freak patients?” Jack added.
“A freak ghost,” said Quintin with a laugh.
Timothy remained silent, glaring up at the bullies with a surprising amount of self-reservation.
Ollie, on the other hand, had no such thing.
“Leave him alone,” he shouted, pushing between Timothy and the bullies. “And don’t call him a freak!”
“He’s an insane crippled ghost!” Quintin shrieked with laughter. “You can’t get much freakier than that! They’re all freaks; every single one of them.”
He didn’t say much after that as Ollie’s fist repeatedly struck him, rendering him unable to get a word out. Bea screamed and staggered backwards, falling into someone’s arms. The person in question lifted her up but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the scene to see who it was.
The other bullies leapt on top of Ollie, throwing punches and kicks, which he was more than willing to return. Unfortunately, it was three against one, and it became very apparent that he was losing the fight.
“Ollie!” Timothy screamed. “Ollie!”
He raised his hands and the locker doors sprang open. Books, pencils, pens, and paper shot towards the group. The bullies screamed in fear as the school supplies circled around them in a whirlwind of chaos before repeatedly striking them. They eventually staggered to their feet and raced away.
The school supplies fell to the ground and a textbook clonked an already injured Ollie on the head.
“Don’t be,” Ollie said, pushing himself onto his hands and knees. He wiped the blood from his nose before touching his fat lip with a wince. Despite the fact that he was clearly in pain, he said, “Thanks.”
“I should be thanking you,” Timothy remarked.
The two shared a strange look before suddenly realizing that they weren’t alone.
“Raabta!” Timothy gasped.
Bea looked up. Sure enough, she was safely in the veiled ghost’s arms. Ollie scrambled to his feet and the children exchanged guilty looks.
“Timothy,” Raabta said calmly. “I see you found Oliver and Bea. Well done.”
“Come,” said the ghost. “Let’s go home.”
The boys exchanged glances before following Raabta from the school. Bea clung onto her canes, snuggling against the ghost’s chest.
They made their way down the street and Bea stared up at Raabta. Like Timothy, she was nearly translucent beneath the sun, looking more beautiful than ever.
“I get it, Raabta,” Timothy said at last. “The reason you don’t want any of us to go outside. They really don’t care about us at all, do they?”
“On the contrary, Timothy,” said Raabta, turning to look at the boys, “it seems there are some people who care a great deal about you.”
Ollie’s cheeks turned pink and Timothy’s turned grey. Though Bea couldn’t see her face, she still heard Raabta’s soft chuckle.
