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Still untitled(Begining of a book)
Fear lives in each and every person day in and day out. It follows us, lurking, and waiting. It reaches into our souls and feeds on the sheer terror we all feel at some point in our lives. But as I stared into the yellowed eyes of the beast that stood so great and tall before me, I felt it more than perhaps any one person ever had before. As a great man once said, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. But maybe you would understand if I started from the beginning. First things first, let me introduce myself. My name is Nikita, Kita for short. I used to be that ordinary teenage girl who wished every day for her very own vampire hottie to simply appear in front of her, now I wish I never even knew they existed. I was popular, not A list material, although my looks seem to say otherwise. I am about 5 foot 8 with long, straight jet black hair, and slightly slanted icy blue eyes. I have pouty supermodel lips, and long slender legs. Beautiful right? My problem, I say and do what I want, when I want. I found at early that clique girls at sovereign high don't take very kindly to that. My first day here in the 10th grade as the "new girl" Amy Silverman decided that I was her new best friend . When she walked up to me with her boobs pouring out of her v-neck shirt, and a huge fake smile plastered on her face, I took an immediate dislike to her.
"Hi," she said in one of those extremely high, extremely annoying voices. Right then and there I decided I would end the seemingly endless flow of words about to pour from her lips in that nasally voice.
"So," I asked, " how much did daddy pay for that boob job rich girl?" Immediately her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed themselves firmly together in a tight line. Sniffing and lifting her head she turned away like a true priss.
Unfortunately I still hadn't managed to shut her up. I heard her daily, always her words took the form of an insult, and always those snide little comments were aimed towards me. Fortunately my sleek dark looks coupled with my instant dis of the most popular girl in school made me queen of the dorks. And I was proud to be a dork, dorks were the most amazing people in the world. With dorks I was free to be the real me. A list girls are always fake, and I hate fake. High school was the same for me as it was for every other high school girls. Floating between classes, grades, friends, and always having to decide if going to the latest party was really more important than studying for the Spanish test. My answer to these problems? When in doubt party it out. I know it's clichéd, but hey, it always works for me. Tonight the party was at Ray's house. Her parents were out of town for the weekend, and the forest behind her house made for the perfect party hangout. Putting my diamond studs in my ears, I backed up and looked at my complete ensemble in the mirror. A black denim mini , with an emerald green top that clashed brilliantly with my black hair, and a simple pair of silvery sandals. I was just putting the finishing touches in my eyeliner when a car horn honked. Running down the stairs I yelled, " bye," over my shoulder/ Before anyone had a chance to argue I slammed the door behind me. In my driveway was a beat up old corvette. Getting in the passenger seat I looked at the driver and said, "hey Randy."
"Click it, or ticket," he said pulling out of our steep driveway.
Huffing I pulled the belt over my shoulder and grumbled, " that's all I get for being your best friend. Click it, or ticket," I mimicked him in a high pitched voice, " gee it's nice to see you to Randy."
"Hey, I do not sound like that," he said in a mock hurt voice, and punched me playfully in the arm. " And hello to you to you to Kita." And with that Randy started in on some spiel about how some cop had pulled him over the day before. zoning out I examined him in a way I often did with most people. He had murky green eyes, and shaggy sandy blonde hair. His build was slight and lean with a little muscle. I couldn't believe that I had known him a year, an already it seemed that I knew everything about him. He had been the new kid the year before I came. He and his mother had moved here from Tennessee after his parents divorced. Apparently they had been fighting off and on for years, but his mother finally ended it when his dad hit her. Randy said that he was glad they had finally split, all of the screaming was really getting on his nerves. But I could tell that all of the fighting had really cut him somewhere deep inside. "Kita, Kita!" Someone was waving their hand in front of my face, startled I snapped out of my reverie and smiled at Randy.
"Hey, sorry watsup?"
"Ummmmm, we're here," he said laughing, "c'mon" Laughing right along with him I jumped out of the car and walked around to the back of the house we had stopped at. We were late, as usual, and the party was in full swing. As I walked I heard voices all around me calling, "Hey Kita. Watsup Kita. Yo Kita." For one more moment in this thing we call life I felt totally, and completely at home. Everybody knew me, and I knew everybody No one in this crowd was perfect and we knew it. We also didn't try to hide it, everything felt soooooo...real. Yeah that's the word , real, something I could see, taste, touch, smell, know. Breathing in the cool night air I tilted my head back, gazed at the stars, and just smiled. Maybe it was the alcohol in my drink, or maybe that it felt happier here in a huge crowd of people than I ever had at home. Either way was fine with me as long as I escaped this crazy world. "Hey Kita," someone said standing right in front of me. Pulling myself back to the real world for the second time that night. I looked down to find a petite girl with mousy brown hair standing in front of me.
"Hey Jenny, watsup?"
Smiling coyly she said, " have you seen the new guy yet?"
"No what's so special about the new guy?" Knowing that I had just given her permission to start raving about how smokin he was I prepared myself to stand in that spot for a long time.
"You'll just have to see for yourself," she said grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the center of the mob. Astonished that I hadn't been forced to sit through an hour long sermon on each and every one of his features I let her lead me like a dog on a leash. At first I saw only people I knew, But when we reached the very center of the crowd I spotted him. He was the center of attention, and for obvious reasons. He was tall with dark, almost black hair, and strange green eyes. He was in a leather jacket with a white v-neck shirt, dark jeans, and black boots. It was the typical bad boy look, and as far as my experience went, totally fake. I immediately had a bad opinion of him, so needless to say when Jenny introduced hi I wasn't very welcoming.
"Sebastian, there's someone I want you to meet," Jenny called," this is Nikita."
"Hi Nikita, I'm Sebastian he said smiling and holding out his hand.
Smirking I said, "Yeah I kind of figured that out when she said your name, and by the way everybody calls me Kita." Turning away from him I shoved my way through the two onlooker behind me and stalked off in search of Randy.
"Kita, wait, I want to talk to you!"
Extremely annoyed that it was the new kids hand on my shoulder I turned around, crossed my arms, glared at him, and asked, " what? " As sarcastically as I could manage, "did you not catch the hint."
"If you mean the fact that you hate me, yeas I caught that. What I didn't catch was why you hate me."
" Oh really," I said flinging my hands into the air, " you were wondering why I hate you? You seem to be getting along with everyone here, I am sure you have heard about me. Has anyone told you I hate fake?"
"Why yes, as a matter of fact they have, but --"
"Well good then maybe one of them has also told you that you are totally, 100%, authentically fake."
"Oh I am, am I?"
"Oh just look at yourself. You look like every other wanna be bad boy ever created, and you even have the British accent to match."
" Oh really, I beg to differ. My accent is Australian, see you don't even know me at all. Haven't you ever heard the phrase don't judge a book by its cover? You have to give me a chance before you judge me."
"Fine, one chance, but if you screw it up I never speak to you again. You better pray you aren't fake!" I said poking him in the chest.
"When and where?" he asked confidentially.
"Friday at the town carnival. Turning away I quickly found Randy and told him I was leaving.