July 11, 2012
By ForeverCurious GOLD, Porterville, California
ForeverCurious GOLD, Porterville, California
12 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”

We were to different worlds.
I was the fragile dear, the delicate flower that couldn’t be touched because it could disintegrate, the house made out of thin breakable twigs that would be blown down by even the smallest of winds, and the girl who looked what she wasn’t.
But he…he was the exact opposite. John was the fire that couldn’t be put out, the wall that couldn’t be shattered, the lion that couldn’t be killed, and the hunter I fell I love with. When I knew I shouldn’t.
To be utterly reasonable I was just the thing he had to kill.
It’s November 22, 2012 and I stand here reading the minds of my classmates.
“Okay, everyone,” Mrs. Louie said in her rough I’m-your-gym-teacher-and-you-do-what-I-say voice. “Line up tallest to shortest into two separate lines. You know the drill, one line for the boys, the other for you girls.” Everybody started moving up and down the lines looking for their asked spots. I unlike the other girls remained motionless. If you were reasonable enough to read the first sentence you’d know why. Incase you still don’t understand, I read my d*mn Gym teacher’s mind two minutes before she gave us the d*mn instructions. Yes, I do hate Mrs. Louie and let me tell you why.
A month ago, I moved to this air-polluted town called Porterville, the air isn’t as bad as Los Angels’ but it could be a lot better if people would leave their cigarettes in wet grass. It’s dead boring around here, let me tell you that. The front cover in their newspaper is usually about a small fire on a hill or new discovered ways on how to wear a scarf, so it’s been hard to kill around here; without anyone suspecting.
So anyways, on with why I hate Mrs. Louie. Well, it stared the second I first met her. She was taking role on her fatuous clipboard that read, “I have swag,” and it was a horrible attempt of trying to be cool. She looked up from her clipboard and said nastily, “So you’re the new student.” But wait, there’s more in her mind she said, “Look at her, is she some kind of disturbing joke. I can see her a month from now, probably pregnant, smoking, drinking and riding on a cheep motorcycle that she stole from a third class front yard or worse yet, the dump.” So yes that’s why I hate her. I mean it was one look at my face and she thought she knew everything about me.
“Come on now,” Mrs. Louie yelled. Every student stood static in two separate horizontal lines, their eyes not daring to meet Mrs. Louie’s. “Look directly across from you and you’ll find your news dance partner. I want absolutely no complaining; your juniors now. Be mature enough to accept whoever your partner is and no you may not trade partners. If you don’t want to be serious about this, then I’ll be overly glad to give you an F.” Accepting your partner? Look who’s talking! You never tried to accept me.
“Allison,” she said roughly, coming to stop at the tip of my chin; her pitch black eyes darting into mine with such intentional ice-cold, deadly fury that would have killed some of my classmates. As for me, I just stared right back at her with undeniably no emotion on my face. Although, deep inside me, I had the longing to rip her face to shreds (repeatedly). “I thought I saw you make a complaining face at me.” Complaining face, what the he**! “Would you like to take an F for the day?”
“I would be honored to do so,” I said my voice sarcastically polite.
“In that case you and your partner will be today’s demonstrators,” she said coldly. Really, why don’t you just kill me? I disliked every single person in this room, now I was going to be their puppet. I wasn’t going to look defeated in front of them. Instead, I kept my hazel eyes cool and said, “I’d be delighted.”
For the first time I looked across from me and there he was. Jonathan Shields, one of the two people I feared in the world was my dance partner.
I felt every single one of my bones turn to ice and I swear my heart picked up by 1,000 heartbeats a minute. He looked up as if he felt my stare and his gray eyes mirrored my same expression. Surprise. I wanted to slap myself or dig myself a grave (that particular idea seemed pretty decent at the moment.) I recomposed my face; I couldn’t let him find the truth about me. Once, again, I tried to read his mind, but as always there was nothing, zilch, nada, zero thoughts. And I hated him even more for that. Out of all people, why couldn’t I read his mind? So this was really happening and there wasn’t a way out. If I made any excuse, like I felt sick or if I just ran out. He would get dubious and just like that; the life of Allison Fray would end.
“Allison, Jonathan,” Mrs. Louie commanded, “to the center.”
I forced my legs forward unwillingly and in each step there was more fear that I ever imagined. So, I the fragile gazelle met up with the exterminator that could end my life.
“Now,” Mrs. Louie said. “Allison put your palms down to where your fingernails are exposed; Jonathan put your palms up.” We did what she ordered.
No! No! NO! I read her mind! She wanted us to hold HANDS! I wasn’t going to go anywhere near his skin, I’d rather die.
“Jonathan, now reach for her hand-,” she stared but she was interrupted by the bell, which signified class was over.
I turned around and headed for the door without ever looking back. I couldn’t take it anymore; I pushed through the door and tried to breath. I put my back to the wall and closed my eyes trying to improve my breathing issues. I slid down and put my head between my knees. I STILL COULDN’T BREATH! I reached around me for my back pack. I didn’t have it on me. I needed my inhaler.
“Allison,” I opened my eyes and looked up. Jonathan stood in front of me with my backpack hanging from his left hand.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” I used my last ounces of energy. “I can’t breath.” he dropped my backpack and came closer.
“G-get aw-way!” I stuttered, my mouth felt dry and my voice sounded raspy and overly warned out.
“Sorry,” he said anxiously. He grabbed my backpack; opened a small pocket and started digging around nervously. A minute later, his hand stopped searching and he pulled out my inhaler.
I reached out one of my shaking hands and grabbed it, while he said, “You look anemically pale.” I put the inhaler to my lips and breathed in life. I closed my eyes and tried to feel calm instead of fearful.
When I finally felt tranquilized I unlocked my eyelids and looked around.
He was gone.
“Read chapter five and be ready for tomorrows pop quiz,” Mr. Green said as the bell rand. Great, now I would have an excuse for not doing my homework. I would explain that the volume of the bell overruled his homework instructions.
I tossed my notebook into my backpack and walked out of the room. Next, I proceeded to go down a single flight of stairs. I crossed over to a medium sized room; I opened the door that read, “Nurse’s Office.” I kept my head down once inside, trying to look deprived and off-color.
I went up to the front desk and said, “I don’t feel well, can I go home.”
“Do you feel dizzy,” the receptionist said. Hmm, how should I play the cards?
“Yes,” I said as convincingly as I could. “Can I please go home?” Say yes, just please say yes.
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “School laws prohibit me to let you drive in your condition. I wanted to pinch myself so hard, I had to say yes. “Can anyone of your listed references take you home?” I didn’t have anyone, no parents, no siblings; they were all dead. I guess I should have thought this one out.
“Then you’ll have to stay here. The nurse is out right now, but he assistant will attend you.” At least I got out of math.
“Jonathan,” the receptionist called out. Oh no. Please let it be Jonathan Nickels.
He came out taking gloves off his fingers, “Yes?” now I really felt sick. I put my head down lower, let my bangs cover my eyes, and I was aware of Goosebumps rising on my skin. I felt could feel him staring at me and the cognizance of it was stronger than any force.
“Attend this ailing girl,” the receptionist ordered, I could sense her turn her head toward me, “What is your name young lady.”
“Allison. Allison Fray.”
“Well then Miss Fray, why don’t you go ahead and join Jonathan in the infirmary.” I nodded and walked over to him. I regretted everything. Making this whole thing up. I denote, the only reason I came here was to get away from him. “Jonathan, I’m going on my lunch break.”
“Okay, have a nice break Mrs. Noël.” Yeah, Mrs. Noël have a nice lunch break while I stay here ALONE with this killer. I fallowed him into the infirmary, always keeping my head down.
“Have a seat,” he said pleasantly. “I need to take your pulse. Also, do you have any prescribed medication you can take?” I didn’t want him to even look at me far worse, touch me. I didn’t want him to feel my life drumming against his fingers.
“Okay, let me take your pulse.”
“I meant “no” on both accounts.”
“But it’s procedure-,” he started, but I cut him off.
“I’m fine. I’m just a little dizzy; it’ll go away once I rest for a while.” I tried to keep my voice as firm as possible
“Fine,” he said with something in his voice that I couldn’t identify. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
As soon as he left the room I hoped onto the bed that was at my disposal. The paper cover on it made crumbling noises as I adjusted myself onto it. I moved the hair from my face, knitted my hand together and placed them on my stomach lightly.
I hadn’t sleep very well the night before so I thought I would catch up on my sleep. A passing moment later I fell into a dark dream.

I was walking down a very weak unobstructed pavement when I heard soft footsteps behind me. I turned around cautiously.
There was nothing.
I kept waking, but this time I increased the velocity in my step. Every three was nothing.
Two apple trees, that cat sleeping on that light blue porch, the five cracks on a window of a small yellow-green birdfeeder; I had already passed all this.
A very familiar voice said, “You’ll never get out.” I looked to the side, there he sat. Emile looked at me with his icy sapphire eyes. “Don’t you love it,” he moved his fingers signifying al around him. Emile was the reason I ran to this filthy town. He was a hunter, just like Jonathan. “Once you reach down to that two story house at the end of the block, there’s an invisible portal that sends you right to where you stared. “It’s kind of like a maze; you like mazes right.” he smiled evilly at me. “What’s it going to be Ally? Stay here forever or will you let me jam this knife into your heart.” he held up a sharp, gleaming knife.
“Why,” I said. “How could you do this to me, I thought we were friends.”
He laughed coldly and threw the knife at me.
I sat up quickly, my heart pounding against my ribs loudly, my breathing hard and uncontrollable.
“Do you need your inhaler,” Jonathan said as calmly as he could, but I could hear the unsteadiness behind it. He was sitting in a chair across from me.
“No…I’m…okay,” I said as I tried to slow my heart. He came and sat at the corner of the bed. I took my legs and criss-crossed them, keeping them close to me.
“Why do you do that,” he asked, looking directly at me.
“Do what?” I raised my eyebrows. I was surprised at how calm I was talking to him. This was good, I suppose. The more natural I looked, the less suspicious I would be.
“You back way when I go near you,” he said cautiously, analyzing my expression. “Like you’re scared of me. Are you scared of me, Ally?”
Yes. “No.” I was unbelievably scared of him, but he couldn’t know that. Wait, did he just call me Ally. I hadn’t heard that name in a long time, not since I was Emile. “Ally?”
“Yeah, Ally. Isn’t it short for Allison?” He lifted one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why?” he asked, confused.
“Just don’t.”
“Okay….can I call Al?”
“Sure, Jonathan.” Al, I guess it was okay.
“Call me John. Could you tell me what happened.
“Just…a bad dream.” Not just a bad dream, the worst I had bye far.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Are you sure, it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’m sure. If you don’t mind, I’m going back to class.” he was trying to pry out something from me, anything and everything.
“Actually, were on lunch period. Besides, you can’t get out on an empty stomach. You’ll just feel dizzy again.” His voice held a tone that was leaning towards the pleading side.
“I feel fine.” I got down from the bed and started going toward the exit.
“Wait,” he reached a hand towards me. I flinched and backed away.
“You did it again,” he sighed. “You can’t leave anyways, not until a staff member gives you permission.”
“Oh,” was all I said. He had the odds stacked against me.
“Here,” he said handing me a granola bar from his lunch tray. I toke it carefully, not trying to touch his hand. I didn’t open it though; I wasn’t going to eat anything from him.
“I saw you sleep,” he said nonchalantly yet when his eyes connected with mine I could feel he did care. More than I probably would ever know. I didn’t say anything back, so he continued, “You look so peaceful and… beautiful.
I wasn’t beautiful. “Why are you lying,” the words slipped from my mouth and all at once I regretted them. Ten points for being natural. He would never suspect a thing.
“Why would I lie?”
“The other day,” he said, his eyes far away; probably replaying our last encounter. “Why couldn’t you breathe? Was it because of me?” He put those unending gray eyes on mine, searching for an answer. I tried to look confused.
“Why would you think that,” I said, trying to sound puzzled. I couldn’t believe ho dead on he was.
“It’s just that you seem to get nervous whenever I’m around.”
“Nervous?” My insides were trembling; my outsides gave a seventeen year old that sat with a face of pure confusion, caused by the intimidating and frustrating words of a killer turned nurse.
“Yes nervous.”
“Why would I be nervous?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I keep my words and thoughts to myself. “Did I do something wrong.”
“Nothing I can think of,” I lied.
“Can we be friends,” he said so suddenly that I was completely cut off guard. Those were the exact words that Emile used once.
“John, we can’t be friends.”
“Why.” he said bewildered and I thought I saw a spark of sadness in his eyes.
“Because…I don’t know you.” That was the best I could come up with.
His features turned cozy, “You can get to know me,” he said with a magnificent smile.
Red lights went off in my head. This was my chance. I didn’t want to live this way anymore. I would get close to John and when the time came…I would kill him.
“Okay,” I responded with a fake smile.
“Hey, have you done your time here?” He said in a questioning tone.
“My time here?” this time I was genuinely perplexed.
“Every student has to help out here for at least two weeks.”
“I guess the school’s budget can’t afford a real nurse.”
“Or maybe their too cheep to get one,” I mumbled. I guess he made out my words because he started laughing for a minute. For some inexplicably and unquotable reason I laughed too.
Then I looked up into his eyes and what I saw in them was staggering. I was the emotion I saw on the face of my father when he looked at my mother or that look, when a couple read their vows. In his eyes I found the thing that made my world fall down into wrecks that I didn’t know if I could pick up and put together. In those gray eyes sparked with shades of blue, I found the feeling of LOVE being sliced into me. My heart beat turned erratic and did unexpected flips.
I turned away.

The author's comments:
part 2 coming soon. please comment! i love constructive criticism

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