The August Hunter's Curse
Suzie N. Munday
language
(Pags & Green, May 27, 2012)
Rock bottom should really be labeled, because this year just keeps getting worse. I had one simple goal for my senior year of high school: convince Ben Mint he was in love with me. I even developed a five step program to work towards becoming the future Mrs. Adeline Opal-Mint. Step 1: Form full sentences directed at Ben without producing excessive amounts of drool.But I haven’t even made it that far yet. For starters, my whole school got sick…except for me. Instead of patting my immune system on the back, I spun into a slow, creeping meltdown because everyone – my family, my friends, even the school nurse was positive I was one of the viruses’ worst victims. I was ready to shake the whole thing off as a bad day until I walked outside and found my hometown coated in colorful muck of every shape and size – muck that everyone else just sees straight through. Before I could fully face the horrific task of debating what brain disease I have, this controlling stranger, Max, tells me the muck I can see are tracks for Torpins - majorly scary beasts his people created and managed to lose control over. I might have appreciated Max’s information if he meant to warn me, rather than command me to help. No way. Not my problem.Despite never wanting to find out what a Torpin looks like, the first time I see a fresh track my body just snaps into connecting the dots, and I follow. Apparently my auto-pilot function doesn’t come standard with the sight, which along with some of my other fine qualities, earns me the awesome nickname of bad luck. It all adds up to me spending my senior year slipping into sensory warping poisons, discovering my connection to a hundred year old curse, and placing all of my trust in a boy I’m pretty sure I’m worth more to dead than alive.