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My Evil Angel
I want to kill myself I thought as Ms. Campbell droned on and on reading some monologue from Romeo and Juliet in third period English. Seriously her voice was annoying. It was way too breathy and over dramatic as she tried (and epically failed) to sound “romantic.”
“She speaks! O' speak again, bright angel!” Even her body movements we extra exaggerated and made me want to hit my head against a wall, even though that wouldn't do a thing for my sleep deprived induced headache. She wasn't the slimmest person in the world, and her double chin and arm fat was giggling everywhere. I'm not really a shallow person, but it's one of those things you can't help but notice. Her outfit didn't help much either. She was wearing a bright yellow pantsuit which made her look like the sun, and annoyed me. Probably because it was such a contrast to my pissed off mood, most of this pissed-offness aimed at her.
Lately she's been giving me hell about this whole Romeo and Juliet thing. But I just don't get why it's a classic, or relevant. I mean two teens in lust with each other are willing to die for the other after only knowing each other for two weeks? That's not romantic. That's mental.
“This is one of the most important scenes in the play. Not only does it really get the tragic ball rolling, but it's also the most romantic.” she hugged the book to her chest and sighed deeply.
Can someone shoot me please?
“I mean, I would love if a guy loved me so much he was willing to admire me from afar just to feel close to me. Even if it is from the bushes in secret. I think it adds-”
“That's not romantic, that's being a stalker,” I said the words before I had time to bite my tongue. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I was usually good at controlling my urges to blurt stuff, but I guess with my headache and tiredness, I guess I just, didn't feel like it today. Oh well.
“Excuse me, Ms. Lawrence?” she said in a tone that said 'I am not pleased Missy.' Great. Now she's going to turn into that teacher tyrant that I can't stand. Like everything else about her. She stalked over to me. I kept my head down so I didn't have to look at her. “I would appreciate it if you didn't disrupt my class.”
“Sorry,” I said in a way that said I could care less. I didn't have to try hard.
Ms. Campbell took a deep breath. “Ms. Lawrence, see me after class.”
I snapped my head up to see her backside walking away from me, shaking my vibrant red-orange, short, wavy hair around my face and neck. “Why? You can't punish me for expressing an opinion.” I practically yelled at her. But she went back to reading, as if I hadn't said anything. This is the tyrant teacher mode I was talking about. The same one that made me want to go rapid fire on her ass. Well, since I'm definitely not about to listen to this lady for the rest of the period, I decided to doodle, until I heard the bell ring. By now I hoped she had forgotten about my earlier commentary, but no such luck (luck was never really on my side) and she motioned me to come here with her finger. I walked slowly, hoping to buy time, as my blue and black plaid skirt swayed around my hips and thighs. Since this was a boarding school (that I'm too lazy to remember the name of) we had to wear uniforms. Not that I was complaining.
Nothing ever happens in Montana, meaning there wasn't much to pay for, so most of this money went to the schools, which for us, meant uniforms that were actually fashionable.
“Miss Lawrence, I am not happy.” she said as I got to the front of her desk.
“Really?” I said in the most sarcastic way possible.
“Miss Lawrence, this is not a game. What in your mind told you to disrupt my class?”
“The tooth fairy said if I did it, I get a dollar.” Okay, I knew this wouldn't help anything, but if I'm going to get in trouble, might as well have fun with it, right?
“Miss Lawrence! I don't think you understand the situation here. You are close to failing!” She reached into her desk draw and pulled out a file. When she opened it, there were a bunch of papers with red marks all over them. My papers. Oh geez. “Most of these answers are wrong.” she said as she held the paper up to me. I examined it closely.
“That's because most of these questions are based around opinion,” I shot back as I snatched the paper from her. “Look at this one,” I said as I pointed to question number four. “Why do you think Benvolio was hesitant to leave Romeo by himself? This is an opinion question and as long as your answer is logical and appropriate, you can't mark it wrong,” I could feel my self getting angrier and angrier “Face it!” I yelled as I threw the paper in her face, “The only reason I'm close to failing is because my opinion of this is different than yours!” I let out a long breath. That felt really, really good.
Ms. Campbell's face didn't change. She didn't speak for about a full minute either. When she did speak though, I really wished she kept quiet. “I'll tell you what. In order to help you grasp the romantic aspect of the story, I'll pair you up Mr. Stevens over there for the project. You know, that one you were too busy doodling to listen to me explain.”
Mr. Stevens? Can't you just say Noah like a normal teacher? I thought as I turned to see him. He was still sitting in his desk, apparently engrossed in Romeo and Juliet, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone else had left. It was either that or he was eavesdropping. His hair was in a choppy emo style, that fell to the middle of his neck, like mine, and reminded me of Andy Sixx's, and was falling in his face. He wore his uniform loosely and baggy, kind of nonchalant, with a leather jacket over it (another think I liked; you could accessorize).
He was kind of a loner like me, but I chose to be. He only had one friend, which was that Wesley kid who looked like he was twelve, even though all three of us were juniors. Maybe he skipped a couple grades? He is supposed to be some kind of genius or something.
Anyway, Noah was a bit of a weirdo. I heard whenever he was bored in his classes, he would pretend his mechanical pencils were needles, which is more than a bit disturbing. He looked up at me, revealing guy-liner and a lip ring. He chuckled at me, making me feel uneasy.
I averted my eyes back to Ms. Campbell. “Oh, hell no.”
“Language, Miss Lawrence.” she scolded me. “And if you don't, I will fail you.”
I slammed my fist down on her desk, not caring what I broke. “You can't fail me just because I interpret something differently!”
“I can and I will.” Great. She's back to tyrant mode. At this point I knew there was no trying to argue with her, but this was cruel and unusual. Not to mention completely unfair. She picked up her things and sauntered out of the room, leaving me alone with Noah.
“Well, that was intense.” he said breaking the awkward silence. It was clear he was trying to lighten the mood, but it only made me more pissed.
“Can you not?” I asked him. It was bad enough I had to work with this creeper, I would appreciate if he left me alone right now.
“No,” he said matter-of-factually, adding a cocky smile. Okay I'm leaving. He had barely said five words to me, and I had already had enough of his emoness. Man, I was really not in a good mood today. Before I could get out the door, he blocked me. I was this close to punching him. No really, I cocked back and everything, but luckily, I managed to stop myself.
“Mind telling me what I said, that got you so mad?” he asked me. Seeing him up close, he was actually kind of cute, if you were into that whole, dark, mysterious kind of thing.
“Well, I have a killer headache due to being so sleep deprived because I'm so busy trying to keep up in this class, Ms. Campbell is chewing on my nerves, and if I don't work with you on this project I know nothing about, I fail. So I don't need you provoking me.” I knew he wasn't trying to provoke me necessarily, but that's what it felt like everyone else was doing, so I just went with it.
“Well, I'm sorry.” he said in a soft, low voice. His deep blue eyes looked like he was genuinely sorry, but I wasn't sure if he was bullshitting or not. For the sake of both our beings, I chose to believe him. I also relaxed myself a little
“Okay, fine, your forgiven. But let me out or we're both going to be late for our next class.” I said in a softer tone. He dropped his arm and moved out of the way, and I walked into the carpeted hallway, and into the Mathematics wing.
“Bye,” he called after me. I carelessly waved back.
Well that was awkward and uncomfortable. I had never actually talked to him before, and I never had a desire to. I still don't, but now that I had to, I guess there's no point in making both of us bitter. I'll be nice. But just until this project is over.
And then I got that cold chill. The chill I always got whenever something was around that shouldn't have been. The chill that made its way up my spine and made me shiver involuntarily, and crept it's way through my arms and legs, and the rest of my body, causing me to almost go completely stiff. This could only mean one thing. Desmond was near.
Ever since I was about four, I could sense otherworldly things. Whether it be ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever, but I could never specify what. When I was younger, they used to terrify me, even though they never actually hurt me, or even directly made contact with me for that matter. I've grown used to them, though.
But since I came here, this guy Desmond has always given me that same cold chill. He was kind of the school tough guy, and acted like he owned this place. He had a nice build, and his hair was cropped short with a square jaw, almost too perfect. Not that I cared. I preferred imperfections on a person anyway. What he was I wasn't sure. I almost don't think I want to know. Just knowing he's not human, but appears human is enough for me to know to stay away from him. And that's exactly what I did. I turned right around and went the long way, not caring about how late I knew I was going to be.
Well then. She's definitely a peace of work. Her red hair matched her fiery personality, that's for sure. As she walked away she held her head high, despite the fact that I've always seen her walking by herself. What was her name again? Aubrey? No, it was close but that wasn't it. Audrey! That was her name.
Audrey Lawrence. It fit her. Tough. It said I can stand on my own without anyone else, but also said she was kind of fragile. In a weird way.
I better not dwell on it too much. I had a bad habit of over analyzing things, and often led to me judging people before I actually got to know them, and I don't know why, but I wanted to know her. She puts on an independent front like she doesn't need anybody else but that's not true. Everyone needs friends. Even I have a best friend, even if the way I chose to express myself caused most people to treat me like a leper. Bywood Prep was a school for rich snobs, so a person like me, the uncommon scholarship nonconformist kid who tested boundaries was something to shy away from here. Yes, the whole social ladder thing really sucks, but for now, I just have to deal.
I picked up my things and walked out the door, and into the fluorescent lit hallway, which accented the bright white painted walls. It hurt my eyes a little, even with my jet black bangs which cast a nice shadow over them. I looked down at the red carpet.
As I walked through the hallway into the art wing where my locker was, everyone was scooting towards the wall like they normally did whenever I walked through. I was used to the stares and such by now. And I knew I had a bad habit of judging people, but at least I was working on it. Everyone else looked at me, saw an emo freak, and went by it. Like I said, I was used to it by now, but it still irked me.
It was times like this that I hated being by myself with no one to talk to. If I'm not listening to someone or something else, then I'm forced to listen to my own thoughts. I just don't want to think myself into depression, like I've done before. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. I know this, but my heart keeps saying 'you monster.' I shut my eyes tight, and tried not to think about it, but all I could see were huge, orange flames...
“Noah!” I heard my name called, which I was very extremely grateful for, and turned around to see Wesley walking toward me wearing a homemade helmet, which was nothing more than a colander and a broken backpack strap. His curly-frizzy brown hair was shaggy, and sticking out from underneath the colander.
He was one of the few students who actually wore the uniform – a beige button down vest with a white collar undershirt, tie, and black and blue plaid pants and/or skirt if your a girl- like he was supposed to. I've had many a good laughs about it.
He skipped first grade, so he was still only 15, but being barely 5' 4”, a semi high voice, and extra skinny, he seemed way younger.
“Hey Nemo,” I answered when he caught up with me. 'Nemo' was my personal stamp for him. His last name was Reif, pronounced like coral reef, so I started calling him Nemo. Yes a lot of people took it the wrong way. I'm pretty sure 75% of the school thought we were gay. My guy-liner probably didn't help much either.
“Hey, check it out!” he said knocking on the helmet. His green eyes got really big with anticipation.
“Where did you get the colander?” I asked instead.
“I borrowed it from the kitchen.”
In Nemo language, that meant stole. He was some kind of genius, and to pass the time, or for convenience, he made stuff. His dorm was cluttered with it. But sometimes he didn't always have what he needed, which lead him to 'borrow' a lot of things.
“Well?” he asked again.
“What am I looking at exactly?” I asked, this time launching him into a teacher-like explanation/lecture about how it's not exactly finished, inserting a few big words here and there, and how he has to add gorilla glue, and then pack on a soft material, preferably cotton, to stick and put a paper bag around it to compress whatever soft material he was using. For the record I knew exactly what he was talking about, but watching him explain was very entertaining. He immediately turned all teacher on me, and suddenly became 50 feet tall, though I was still looking down on him. I sat there chuckling to myself until I realized something.
“What do you need a helmet for?”
“What do I need it for?” His face went a little bit grim, casting an invisible shadow, and he signaled for me to come closer. I leaned in.
“Desmond.” he said in a low whisper in my ear.
Desmond. I heard about him, how he was a controlling, bullying jackass, who loved weak targets. I've never had interaction with him though. But due to this revelation, that might change. No one messes with the people around me and gets away with it. No one.
“What did he do?” I asked back, mimicking his soft tone, and played with my lip ring with my tongue to keep my anger from doubling over.
“Well, it started off as just a few shoves against the lockers every once in a while. But lately it's been worse.” as he was talking, I could feel my grip on my backpack getting tighter and tighter. “More aggressive, and taunting. Like he's trying to intimidate me.”
I thought about this, and shook my head. “He's just trying to boost his rep. Don't worry about it.” I knew what I was saying was utter crap. I didn't believe a thing I was saying, but I had to stall him, somehow, even if it was with an excuse as thin as this.
My mind was already forming plans to make him pay. And I mean seriously pay. Nemo must have noticed, because he looked at me in a worried way.
“Noah,” he said, like he was cautioning me. He spoke slowly, like he was speaking to a child, “I don't want you to do anything. I got this. Okay?” Damn. I should have known with his freaky genius I.Q. He would have figured out everything I was saying was bullshit.
“So I'm supposed to just sit and wait while he pushes you around like a dish cloth?” I said, my voice escalating with every word, causing some people to stop and stare for a few seconds.
“Noah,” he said again, this time his face and tone more serious. “Don't. Do. Anything.” His expression was urging me to say okay, but my mind was screaming 'hell no!” It wasn't like me to just lay about when I know a friend of mine was wronged. But then again, I also didn't want to lose the only friend I have. I turned around, and got 3 notebooks from my locker before responding. “Fine,” I said, slamming my locker. I turned back around to face him. “I won't do anything.”
Nemo let out a big sigh of relief, and relaxed his whole body. “Thank you!” he practically shouted.
I'm a schemer. I'll be the first to admit it. I could come up with the most elaborate, plan full of twists and traps to get you in the deepest trouble, and well, let's just say sometimes they got a bit out of hand.
“Well, I'll keep you posted about how the helmet's coming along,” he said knocking on the helmet with his fist again, snapping me out of my thoughts. “See you later!” he called as he went his way. I waved back.
What am I going to do? I most definitely just can't pretend like my best (and only) friend isn't being bullied by the world's biggest jerk. But if I intervene, I could lose my best (and only) friend. I know he's just looking out for me, and doesn't want me to go crazy over this, but does he really not want me do a single thing? Damn it. No. I got it. I'll give this Desmond dude a trial period. If he doesn't stop, I'll tell Nemo I tried, but I just can't hold back anymore.
Three chances. Desmond gets three chances. If it doesn't stop, or at the very least lessen, I'm coming for his throat.
Everywhere I went, people stayed away from me. They see me walking down the hall, and they scattered like roaches. I was big, tall, and muscular, with an intimidating glare.
And I loved every minute of it.
I thrived on it. I needed it. I loved it. No one would look me in the eye. This might have something to do with the fact that they were brown, but with a reddish tint. It doesn't matter though. Everyone else was just a pawn to be played anyway. These beings were weak, spineless creatures. They couldn't even handle a little electric shock without dying. Why God would create such pathetic beings I'll never uderstand. It was almost laughable.
"Hey Desmond," a girl with pinneedle straight blonde hair to the middle of her torso, brown eyes, and too much eyeshadow gave me a flirty smile and wave. I smiled and waved back. Girls were going to be the easiest to control. Guys might be a little tougher.I know what guys were like. They were always trying to prove they were better than the next. It wouldn't be much of a challenge, and they were no match against us, but it would still be extremely tiresome. Boring, really.
By 'us' I meant me and my father.
And actually, I shouldn't be speaking so arrogantly. I had human lineage. My mother was a quarter human, but that was as far as anything human about me went.
But like I was saying, control the girls with their shallowness, control the guys by their fear. I had already had this figured out weeks ago.
"Desmond!" I heard my name called, or rather yelled, from down the hall. It sounded angry. I turned to see some freakish emo kid, running at me like a maniac. You'd have thought his house was on fire. His face looked even more pissed, but what could he do to me? Screamo me to death?
"Good, you heard me." is voice was just above a low growl, and his facial musculs, along with his bright blue eyes, were tense. "Now I won't have to say your name again. I don't like the taste of it in my mouth."
"What the hell did you just say to me?" Who was he? And who did he think he was to approach me like this?
"I think you heard me, loud and clear."
Okay seriously, who was he. Please don't tell me he was challenging me.
Are you harrassing my friend?" he said, taking a step closer to me. He was really challenging me. This little weird, lanky, freak was challenging me. II had to bite my cheek from doubling over in laughter.
I skanned my brain for who he might have been talking about, until I decided that was just too many people to choose from.
"Can you be more specific?" I asked him when I gave up trying.
He looked at me in disgust then. I would have hurt him-badly- but I can't do anyting drastic. Not now. Not yet. So I kept my composure.
And their was the light bulb. "Oh, you mean that gay kid?"
"He's not gay." he answered, like he said it a million times already.
"Sure he isn't"
He sighed gruffly and took a deep breath. "I'm going to make you a deal."
I raised my eyebrows. In any other circumstances, I would've snapped his body in half, but for now I have to blend in. Besides people were starting to gather around to watch. As much as I loved to put on a show, I wasn't going to start a fight just because THEY wanted it.
"What kind of deal?"
"I'm going to give you three chances. You can harrass him two more times, but not a third."
"And if I do?" I asked.
"Then I garauntee you will wish you hadn't." he said in that low growl. I couldn't contain myself anymore, and my big bassy laugh exploded from my throat.
"Laugh now." he said, causing me to pause. "It's ok. I want you to." he said slowly, walking away from me. Even I had to admit, with the choppy hair, lip ring, and deep blue eyes, he did look a little menacing, but I recognized an empty threat when I heard one. The crowd began to disperse, and went along with their business, like they should have.
So I get three chances, huh? Okay. I could have fun with this.
I turned backwards, down the carpeted stairs, and ran my hand along the polished wood railing that lined every staircase.
"Mr. Cole?" that fat english teacher came up and said to me "This is the fourth day that your review questions are late. I can't keep giving you extensions."
Time to turn on the charm. "Ms. Campbell, I've had a lot of projects lately. I just haven't found the time to get around to it. I'm sorry."
"I guess that's understandable. But this is your final extension. You have until tomorrow." Then she waddled away.
Oh yeah. I could control teachers too. I had to learn to manipulate everyone if they were all going to be at the palm of my hands, begging for mercy.
My first paranormal experience was probably the scariest. But then again, I was only four.
It was a normal spring day outside with my mom. She was pushing me on the tire swing we had on our tree in the backyard. Her hair was the same shade as mine, except longer and curlier. I was wearing my favorite t-shirt, and jeans. Thats what most of my wardrobe consisted of back then, no matter how many time my mom tried to get me in a dress. It was about 6:30pm.
"I want to go inside. I'm cold." I told her.
"Really. It's still pretty warm out. Are you sure?" She asked. Apparently, it was about 70 degrees still, but I insisted I was cold. Back then I didn't know why, bt now I know that it was that same creeping chill.
"Uh-Huh, I want to go inside." I slipped out of the tire swing, and we walked toward our house. It was painted white on the otside, and was three stories high. The entire time walking, I couldn't shake the sense that someone was behind me. But no matter how many times I looked behind me, no one was there. I looked at my mom to see if she noticed anything, but she didn't appear to.
"Hello Audrey," my dad said when we got in the house. The furniture was just like the outside, simple, yet elegant, and tasteful. The couches were a white leather, with chandeliers, the typical rich kid's house. He looked up from his newspaper, and bent down to kiss my forhead. He normally worked late, but he, for some reason I don't remember, was home early that day.
"Hey daddy," I replied.
"Audrey, sweetie, would you go get changed for dinner?" my mom asked me. Even in the house I could still feel like there was someone behind me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of someone breathing down my neck. I tried to get away, and ran up to my room, but that did nothing. When I closed the door, the shadow on it got bigger, looking like black ink bleeding slowly through a thin piece of paper as it made its way upward toward the ceiling. I took a few paces back until I could feel the walls through my t-shirt. The black tendrils of the shadow looked like snakes, creeping their way toward me, and down the wall my back was against. I could feel my little chest constricting on me as they inched farther and farther down the wall, and it was becoming harder and harder to breath. I shut my little eyes tight, and tright to tell myself it wasn't real. But then coldness hit me lie a sudden blizzard, and I let out a high-pitched wail.
It wasn't long before my parents came rushing into my room, denting my wall with the doorknob.
"M-mommy," I stammered.
"What, sweetie what is it?" my mom asked me, her voice full of panic and worry, kneeling over to comfort me. I looked in her sea green eyes.
I tried to tell her about what had happened, but I kept stammering over words, and all I could do was point at the door.
"What about the door?" she asked in a soft voice.
"Shadow," I finally managed to say.
My mom looke at my dad, and they both chuckled. They spent the next ten minutes explaining to me that it was only a shadow, casted by the sunlight outside, and that it couldn't hurt me.
I've tried to tell them about this many times after that, but they didn't believe me. I don't blane me. I was only four years old, I wouldn't believe me either. I was just a little girl, not to mention an odd little girl, at least I was where I grew up. When every othr little girl wanted the newest barbie, I wanted the newest Hot Wheels track.
Now that I'm older, I reckon they'd believe me now. But after thinking about it for a while, I voted on not telling them. They were very religious, and di almost everything by the book, and the last thing I wanted was to be strapped to a gurney, staring at a priest holding a cross to my forehead.
So telling them, out of the question.
And I figured out who the shadow was. That night I woke up to my mom crying in the kitchen. The phone was on the table, and she was curled up in my dad's chest. My grandmother was in a car crash that day. She was driving to surprise me. Oh yeah, that's why dad was home early...
Anyway upon hearing that, my mind was making the connections. I was only four, but I was amazingly advanced for my age.
I've never had anything as dramatic as that happen to me again. There were things that came close but, never as heavy as that day.
It was 12 midnight, and I was finally done those stupid review questions for Romeo and Juliet (making sure my answers matched HER opinions). I looked around. I really should clean up in here eventually, I thought as I looked at the mountains on the floor. I couldn't even tell which were clean and which were dirty. Deciding it was too late, and I was too tired for this, I turned off my light, and went under my purple down comforter, and tried to prepare myself for third period english the next day.
Audrey I had the strangest dream last night. I was walking through a forest. I didn't know why, or how I got there, but the trees were tall, casting long, spindly shadows with branches that looked dead, hanging there with brittle looking brown leaves.Almost all of the trees were completely covered in moss, giving off an earthy smell, along with the thick green grass that felt slimy between the toes of my bare feet. The sky was a medium grayish purplish color that made the whole scene look even darker than it already was. I walked foward even more while my black, knee length dress with gold shimmers flowed around me. I squinted to look through the trees, trying to catch what may or may not have been running in and out of the trees, half expecting something to jump out and start chasing me. I was walking for what seemed like an hour. I was about to sit down, until the forest started to move. And not in a dizzy, swaying side to side way. The trees themselves, started to bend and twist around each other in weird ways, making a horrible crunching sound that made me cringe. I could also hear the tiny breaks and snaps of twigs and branches, and bits and pieces of them fell at my feet. I felt like I should have ran at the sight. I mean, trees coming to life and twisting aroud each other was just plain weird, but I couldn't look away. It pulled me in. Then, with quick flashes of orange, red, and yellow, the forest was gone. The grass was gone too. All color seemed to disappear, completely white everywhere, making me feel empty inside. Completely covered by fog, I was hit with a warm sensation, causing a thin sheet of sweat on my face, and a figure appeared in the distance. It was hard to see through the fog, but I could tell it was a person, walking toward me. Well actually, they weren't really walking. It was more like stumbling, in a broken cryptic way, like a zombie. The person came closer, and I could now tell they were a woman. Her hair was pitch black and straight, coming down to her chest. But then I realized something. Half of it was missing. It was in patches, and some of it was shorter than the rest, sticking up around her face. She came closer, and I fought the urge to turn around and bolt, throw up, or both. Without the exception of a few strips of clothing around her shoulders and ankles, she was completely naked. Her body was scarred, and almost completely covered in burns, and the skin that wasn't burned was flaking. Her hair had been scorched off. Along with the burns, her body was also completely covered in stitched that were dripping fresh blood. Her eyes were deep blue. I took a step back. Actually it was more like a couple, but I took them slowly and cautiously. I don't know why, but I wanted to make sure she was okay with me leaving. When it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, I pivoted on my bare heal to turn away, but her voice stopped me. "Stay," she croaked. And it was like my feet were frozen to the floor. Even more so when they started to slowly turn cold. Her voice sounded crackly, and choked up, as if her lungs were filled with smoke. But even through all that, I could detect a hint of sadness. My heart was pounding in my neck. I tried to swallow it back down into my chest but it wouldn't budge. I felt like I couldn't breath. "You have to get away," she said next. I crinkled my eyebrows. This wasn't making any sense. First she told me to stay, and now she's telling me to get away? "Not away from me," she explained. "You just, have to get away." Her face was conflicted as she tried to find the right words. "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me," I told her. "Just get away. Please," her scratchy voice was begging me, her deep blue eyes pleading me. I couldn't shake the feeling that she looked so familiar. "Stay away from what?" I asked her, getting more and more frustrated. She opened her mouth, then closed it, as if she were about to say something but decided against it. "What's your name?" I asked instead. "Lori," she replied easily. My next question I was afraid to ask, but I wasn't sure if it was because she may be offended, or because I was afraid of the answer. "Lori," I started carefully, "are you dead?" She hesitated before answering. "Yes." The rest of my body was now frozen. I was talking to a dead person. It both creeped me out and thrilled me at the same time. "Okay. Now stay away from what?" I asked her again. She took a deep breath, making this horrible phlegm sound, making me flinch. "Just know to stay away." "Stay away from what?" I shouted, incredibly pissed off now. "How am I supposed to stay away if I don't even-." My rant was silenced by two more figures appearing in the distance. Both, again, were human. One was a man, who, like Lori, was covered in burns and bleeding stitches. The other was a woman. Unlike the other two, she was unmarred, unscarred, completely perfect, but she still forced me to take a step back, breaking my frozen spell. Her eyes glowed crimson. From the chain that stretched from behind her to beyond, I guessed her hands were shackled behind her back. "Just know not to get involved." The lady with the red eyes said, her voice rich and thick and sweet, like honey, a direct contrast to Lori. I was about to scream at all of them, but they began to blur. My vision began to darken, and hollow voices were whispering at me. Then I was awake. I tried to figure out what it meant all morning. Was it a warning? Or do I just have a overactive, seriously f*ed up imagination? I wanted to say it was just my imagination, but it felt so real. Normally my dreams aren't that elaborate and detailed, and the fact that this one was shook me to my core. Especially considering what happened. You know what, I'm deciding it was just my imagination. Besides, if it was a warning, what would it be warning me from? My 6th sense. That's been happening since forever. So yeah. Just my imagination. So why did I still feel so uneasy? Okay, enough fretting. Let's push this out of my mind until later. It's not important right now, I decided as I made my way into 3rd period english. Everyone else was seated. "Miss Lawrence you're late," Ms. Campbell said, looking up from her clipboard. Today she was wearing an orange pantsuit, and looked like a pumpkin. Not much of an improvement from yesterday. I replied with a snarky smile and head tilt, and took my seat.
I bit my lip to keep from chuckling out loud, and buried myself in my notebook to conceal my smile. Audrey was the only person I knew who had the balls to stand up to Miss Campbell. Despite her rather soft, squishy exterior she was a hard head. She used to be in the marines. At the beginning of the year she told us all kinds of stories about her days. She could break a hand with one simple push and tug, sometimes using this as a threat, and Aurey was the one who was willing to stand up to that. She really was something.
"Congratulations, Ms. Lawrence," Miss Campbell started, "you missed the warmup. Again," she finished, putting unneccessary emphasis on 'again.' "I should go over it again, just for you."
The entire class - except me - gave a collective groan. I was too busy looking at her, who didn't seem to notice.
"But then again, that wouldn't be fair to those who bothered to show up on time, now would it?"
"Absolutely not," Audrey agreed, with her hands folded across her desk, like a proper student, but anyone could tell she was clearly being sarcastic.
"Exactly," Miss Campbell replied, probably being the only one who didn't catch on. "So we're going to partner up for the rest of the period. But you have detention with me. Commense," and with that she made her way back to behind her desk.
The room filled with the sound of desks screeching on the floor as people trned them all kinds of which ways to face their partnrs. By the end the class looked like a crazy labirynth.
Audrey looked up at me. I gave her what I thought was a friendly smile. Instead, of giving me a smile back, she rolled her eyes slightly, and grabbed her bag to come over here in a bit of a huff, causing my smile to falter. I knew she didn't like me very much, but she could at least pretend to not mind to spare my feelings.
"Hey, she said sitting down next to me.
"Hey," I responded, giving a small wave.
"Turn your desk to me," she said as she got up and turned her desk a quarter. I picked up mine and made that smae screeching noise, causing the whole class to look at us with dagger eyes. Audrey shot back with a 'go screw yourself' look, and plopped back in her seat.
"Soo what exactly is this project about?"
"Huh? Oh right the project," I stammered. "Well, we have to tell the story of Romeo and Juliet, but in a more modern way."
"You mean like writing it in normal people English?" she asked.
"Well we could," I said, feeling myself getting more and more excited, "but I was thinking something else." I had thought about this all night. The idea was sheer gold, I was proud of myself.
She raised her eyebrows at me. "Character twitters?"
I nodded my head vigorously, hurting my neck a little. "Yeah! We create twitters for Romeo and Juliet and then tweet as if we were really them as we read the rest of the story here. So what do you think?" I finished in a rush.
She sat back in her seat and cocked her head in a way to show she was thinking. She also made exaggerated "huh," and "hmm" noises for about a minute straight.
Answer the question! I was about to scream at her until it hit me. She was taunting me on purpose. Just be patient, I told myself. She wants you to itch and get anxious. She's just like that-
"I like it," she said finally. I let out an exasperated sigh, that I didn't realize I was holding until just now.
"Thanks," I said. She stopped talking then. She was just examining her nails, almost as if I weren't there, and that's when I truly began to look at her. Her shiny, red-orange hair fell in perfect, little waves around her face and neck. Her skin was like a beige silk, or smooth ice cream. And her eyes. They were a green that matched the brightness of her hair, like little round emerald's that I felt like I could stare at forever. She was really pretty, even without makeup, but somehow that only made it better. More natural.
"What did you just call me?" she asked out of nowhere. I crinkled my eyebrows together in fluster and confusion.
"What are you talking about?" I asked back.
"I could've swore you just called me beautiful."
I felt my face get hot. did I say something and not realize it? Did I really just call her beautiful and not notice? I could only hope she was just hearing things. Not knowing what else to do, I tried to laugh it off.
"Um, I think you might be hearing stuff," I tried. "I mean, why would I call you beautiful?" She raised her eyebrows at me, and I realized my mistake. "Um, not that I wouldn't, I mean you're really pretty." She squinted at me. "What I mean is, I just think you might have hit your head on something."
"Uh huh," she said, but her eyes were watching me in a wary, suspicious way. Well, that was an epic fail. Time to change the subject.
"Well, anyway, I think we should start reading the book-"
"Noah help me!" I heard Nemo's voice. I turned to see him staring in my doorway, wide-eyed, and scared. He looked to his right and bolted the other way, and a few seconds later, Desmond appeared. My face twisted in some contorted way that I really wish I could see. I hopped up and ran so fast I couldn't see anything clearly until I was in the hallway, standing still. Noah was on the ground, and Desmond was standing over him, his broad shoulders stiff, and menacing. Not that that mattered to me.
I ran up and pushed him with everything I had, and it still ony moved him a couple feet. He turned to me, and looked me in the eye. It was clear he was trying to intimidate me, but I held my ground. The next was a blur, and I was suddenly up against the locker, with Nemo, who unfortunately, wasn't wearing his helmet. One.
I tried to push him again, but he caught my arms, and through me against the locker again, and before I had time to recover, he grabbed Nemo, and through him to the floor. Two.
He looked back at me, and smirked at me. And then it clicked. He was doing all this on purpose. He planned this. And made sure I saw all of it. He was testing me, to see if I would really do something. This must have showed on my face, because his smile got wider, leaned down, and slapped Nemo across the face. Three.
I don't think I had complete control over my body after that, because I blacked out for a second, and when I recovered I was on the floor, next to Nemo.
"If I'm not mistaken, I think that's three." he said to me in an agonizing, taunting voice. I could kill him. "What are you going to do?" he asked in that same taunting voice. I got up slowly, only now acknowledging the crowd I didn't realize had formed until now. I looked through it, mouth's agap at the scene. Miss Campbell was in the front of the crowd, obviously blocking people. Audrey was way in the back, and looked terrified. Huh, I didn't think she was afraid of much. Why didn't Miss Campbell stop this? "Just as I thought. All talk," Desmond left with that final statement.
I knew I couldn't beat him physically, but sometimes I lost control of myself. I had to mentally beat him. And little did he know, I already knew just what I was going to do.
The whole class was stunned into silence. No one spoke, no one whispered, just silence at the scene that had just took place. “If I'm not mistaken, that's three...” what did he mean by that? The only leverage I had is that is it was something between Desmond (shudder) Noah, and Wesley.
“Okay, everyone back in the class,” Miss Campbell said as she tried to shoo everyone away from the scene. “You too, Ms. Lawrence,” she scolded as she got to me.
“I'm going to make sure Noah's okay,” I said, and for once, she listened to me and went inside with everyone else.
I slowly walked over to Noah, who was just standing there, touching the area around his lip ring that was bleeding a little.
“Are you okay?” I asked when I got to him.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, his voice sounded hard, but distant. He looked toward the way Desmond had left.
“Are you sure, that was pretty intense. And scary.” I added.
“I'm sure,” he answered, still looking down the hallway. His shoulders were tense. I approached him carefully, and slowly grabbed his hand so he didn't snap on me.
“Let's go inside.” I tried to pull him toward the classroom, but he wouldn't budge.
“Noah, we have to go back-” I was cut off when he suddenly pulled me in toward him. I slammed into his chest, and his grip on my arms was way to tight. “What is your problem?” I asked, not caring how harsh I sounded.
“Sorry,” he apologized and let go of me. He looked down at the red carpet, and licked his lips a couple times. When he looked up, his face and deep blue eyes were intense.
“I need your help,” he said.
“With-” Wait a second... and then it clicked, and I jumped back against the locker, staring at him with wide eyes.
“What's wrong?” he asked, confused, and looking a little hurt.
“Nothing,” I quickly lied, “I just had a bit of a muscle spasm. I'm good.”
Those eyes. How hadn't I seen this earlier? Those same deep blue eyes, are those same eyes as Lori, the burned, stitched up woman from my dream. The shape, the color, the thickness of their eyelashes, all the same. In fact, looking at his whole face, anyone would admit there was an uncanny resemblance between them. They even had, the same jet black straight hair.
Lori's words echoed in my head. 'You have to get away,' she said, and remembering her scratchy voice made my skin crawl. What did she mean by them? I could only think of one thing. And he was standing right in front of me. I mentally shook myself. What am I thinking? What could that woman and Noah possibly have anything to do with each other? Noah seemed like an okay kid. Why would she want to warn me from him? And what about the others, the man who was also incredibly marred, and the other woman with the honey voice. What would they have to do with Noah? Nothing. Right?
“Anyway, I need your help,” he started, breaking me out of my jumbled thoughts, which I was grateful for. “with Desmond.”
Crap. Okay, maybe I wasn't so grateful. “I can't.”
“Why?” he said, with a sadness that was carried into his eyes that made me feel guilty, and also due to recent revelation, was creeping me out. And I had a tug in my gut, telling me to spill about my 6th sense.
“I just can't,” I said instead. “Can we go inside now?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Okay,” he said giving up. And we both walked into the classroom.
I felt terrible. It's not like I didn't want to help. I did, but I want virtually nothing to do with Desmond, and I definitely wasn't going to tell Noah why. What was I going to say? 'The reason I didn't want to help out with the whole Desmond situation is because I can sense otherworldly thing, and Desmond isn't human. I know he looks human, but he's really not. So yeah, K' thanks bye?'
I was tied. So the best thing to do for now is to just sit back and not get involved. Wait. 'Not get involved...' it was the same thing the woman with the honey voice said. Okay, now I know for sure not to get involved. But if she was right, does that mean Lori was right too?
STOP THINKING ABOUT IT! You're only going to get yourself more confused and stressed. Just sit down in the desk, and work on the project, I told myself.
“So we have the idea. What are we going to do now,” I asked, but my voice sounded distant. I was wondering if he could tell.
“Nothing I guess, so we can just chill.” he answered. He suddenly sounded so calm, when he had just been so angry and tense out in the hallway. That's kind of weird. Hold on.
“No!” I said, louder than I meant to, receiving yet another round of dagger stares from the rest of the class. “Can we talk about Romeo and Juliet?” I really didn't want to, but I also really didn't want to just sit there, forced to listen to my thoughts.
“Fine,” he agreed, almost too quickly. “What do you think of Romeo?”
“I kind of already made this clear yesterday. An obsessive, bipolar stalker.”
His face was one of shock. “Okay, I can understand the stalker part, but where does obsessive and bipolar come from?”
“Well at the beginning he's all, I'm so depressed over Rosalind, boo hoo hoo, and the second he sees Juliet he's all 'never mind, she's hotter, so she's my new drug. So that's all 'what the hell?' And bipolar comes from how he can be the happiest person alive, and then the next he's all 'I'm going to kill myself.' And he only knew her for 2 weeks. That's not mentally sane.”
“Well you have to remember it was a different time back then-”
“Does it look like I care?” I cut him off. He raised his eyebrows at me, but it was in a playful way.
“Well then,” he said pretending to be offended. He put his hands on his hips and everything. He even pouted a little, making his lip ring shine. I giggled a little bit. He smiled back at me.
“Well, what about Juliet?” he said, when we both stopped.
“Juliet is just another hormonal teenager to me, except even crazier. Which is saying something, because girls these days are nuts.”
“She was a romantic,” Noah tried to argue with me again.
“No. Just no. In fact, I think she was bipolar too.”
“Oh my gosh, how bad would that be in real life? Two bipolar teens who got together?” He asked out of nowhere.
I thought about it for a second. “Well, not that bad I guess. They have medicine for it, so...” I trailed off, and we sat there nodding at each other for about a minute straight, until we both burst into another round of giggles that came off kind of flirty to me. Were we flirting? Nah. Noah's not really my type.
And the bell rang. Time to go already?
“See you tomorrow,” Noah said as he got his things together. Like yesterday, I responded with another week wave. Walking out the door, I went the way I went yesterday. But for some reason, I couldn't get my dream out of my head.
Of all the 253 years that I've been alive, I could remember everything, and that's not an exaggeration. From the time I was born to now was permanently branded into my memory forever. Most of the time, it was a handy tool, but other times, it seemed more like a curse. No matter how many times I tried to ignore something, or forget something, the memory just slammed harder, and further imprinted itself in my mind, one of these things, being my violent birth.
Even in our mothers womb, me and my twin sister, Jessica, were pretty self aware, and when we decided we were ready to be born, we could feel our father rushing mother to their bedroom. A hospital for us, would be... lets say, inappropriate.
I went first, and tipped myself down and began to push. My mother was already screaming, but nothing was happening as far as being pushed out, so I began to claw. My nails dug into her soft tissue, and began to bleed. The condensed air began to smell metallic, and I could feel her blood dripping under my fingernails and down my arms to my face, and hear her earsplitting screams that were so full of agony, but being the malevolent, selfish creature that I am, I kept clawing, faster and faster.
And then I was out. I could feel my fathers hands take me away to the edge of the bed and wipe me down.
Fresh air filled my lungs as I took in my surroundings. The room itself was a huge pentagon shape, and the ceiling was about 25 feet high (which worked because our father was about 15 feet at least) with a diamond chandelier hanging from it. Instead of lights, there were candles with flames that blazed bright, and were about a foot high. The walls were a burgundy color that looked like fur that matched the carpet. My eyes wondered to the bed spread, now stained with blood. The room looked fit for an evil king. And then to my mother. She was crying pink tears, but she was smiling weekly at me. Despite the obvious pain she was in, she was still really pretty.
And then her face shifted back into one of agony, and she belted out another earsplitting scream, and my sister began to claw and scratch her way out. Her arms moved even quicker than mine did. When she made her way out she was still kicking and screaming and scratching, her little arms moving even more vigorously with each passing second. Father picked her up and set her next to me.
She already had hair down to her shoulders, and it was dark and wavy, just like our mothers. Her eyes were also the same bright red.
Our mother was now smiling even more weakly at the both of us, pink tears still running down her pretty face. But that image once again shifted when father snatched her up and dragged her limp, bleeding body to the corner of the room where chains and shackles lay. He pushed her to the ground, pressing her face against it. Mother tried to fight back, but she was to weak and exhausted to do anything. The chains made clinging sounds as he forced them on her wrists and ankles. He picked her up and dragged her out of the room as she was still trying to kick her way free, and they disappeared through the door.
That was the last time I ever saw her.
Even though she was still a quarter human, she heeled easily and quickly. Back then I knew this, and I didn't think much of what we had did to her,but thinking back, I feel awful. She was my mother after all, and no matter how many times I tried to forget this, none of the feelings went away. Jessica on the other hand, didn't feel any remorse. She had always despised our mother for giving us even an ounce of human blood. I've tried to tell her many times that it was necessary so we didn't have the sharp teeth to blend in, but she never listened to me. She was stubborn like that.
My sister and I asked what father did with our mother once. He told us not to worry about it, and that it was for the best, and we listened, like always. We both knew the consequences of not listening.
My sister was still kicking and screaming when our father bust back into the door. He stomped over to us and pushed her little arms and legs on the bed with just his fingers. “Stop it,” he said in a cold, hard, dark voice that was dripping pure evil, and she listened. Of course, when you're Lucifer, demons always listened to you. Especially your offspring.
And no one except our little family even has a clue about us.
The contrast of the darkness of my dorm and the light from my computer was making my eyes hurt. I got up and turned on the light of my dorm, revealing the pile of clothes I still have yet to clean up. I tried to focus on my goal, make the twitter account. Why was it so hard to think of a damn user name? I slammed my head to the keyboard, filling the user name bar with “nrf8h3 75t.” I backspaced it. Why am I kidding myself? I knew the reason I couldn't think was because I couldn't focus. All day I was thinking about Noah's eyes.
In my dream, that Lori woman had those same eyes, and even looked a lot like him. And then all that stuff about getting away? What did it mean? And what could it possibly have anything to do with Noah, if it even did? I wanted so desperately to believe it was just a weird coincidence, but I couldn't bring myself to, but thinking they were possibly related in some way made me start hyperventilating. The image of Lori flashed into my head again: burned skin, scorched hair, and bleeding stitches with that chilling, crippled zombie walk, with Noah's face.
I shook the image from my head, and made myself focus on the computer screen. In the user name box I typed “xJulietx13.” I wonder what Noah put for Romeo's user name... I pinched myself, and made myself yelp a little. My mind will not wander to Noah. Not now.
“Okay, password,” I said out loud. Hmm, what could I use for my password? A slow smile spread across my face, and while giggling, typed in “mentalchick?” Yup, that works just perfectly.
Since that was finished, I fished through my desk to see what was next on my homework agenda, or another distraction to get my mind off of Noah, but other then a few pencils, my desk was empty. Okay, time to check my agenda... nothing. Damn it! I am not going to think about this now. It was just a stupid dream. It meant nothing. In a rush, I made my way over to my window, tripping over the clothes mountains in my room, and opened the curtain. It was a nice October day, about 5:00 and still light out. Maybe a little fresh air would help get my mind off things. Yeah, fresh air would do me good.
I began to dig through my mountains for something wearable. And came across a black t-shirt, and my favorite pair of jeans, slid both of them on, including my silk green jacket that brought out my eyes, and walked across the door.
By this time of the day, the teachers were off semi-secretly making out in the teachers lounge, so it gave the students some time to chill, and be left alone for once.
Walking through the hallways made me want to gag. I never really liked this place. Everything about it just screamed pompous and arrogant. The way too intricate designs on the staircase railing, and occasional painting on the wall also made it seem like they were trying way to hard to be classy. I begged my parents to not send me here, and just let me go to public school like everyone else, but no such luck. They wanted me to reach the peak of my scholastic ability, and thought by sending me here, I would. Instead, I'm barely passing most of my subjects, and probably have the thickest discipline file in this school. I never even liked being rich. I didn't like the feeling of everyone showering me with stuff, and having everything handed to me because of my social standing. Everything about this lifestyle was so guaranteed, but I like the feeling of not knowing what's going to happen next, but this couldn't give that to me. For once I just wanted something to go wrong, like my every store in the country to stop keeping my mom's clothes in stock, or my father's law firm falling through.
Basically I just want an adventure, a little unpredictability in my life.
I stepped down from the final stair and into the lobby. In the middle of the floor laid a huge logo with a leopard on that read in huge letters, “GO LEOPARDS!” I'm honestly surprised they didn't go with something dainty, delicate, and utterly stupid like flamingos as their mascot. A chandelier hung, and the walls and floor were made of marble down here. Before I barfed, I quick walked to the double doors, and with a heavy push, opened the doors to the outside.
Breathing in the fresh air instantly gave me relief. The cool fall wind lightly brushed my face, and I felt like I could drink it.
I began to walk over to the picnic bench under the tree that I liked so much, not making eye contact with any of the other teenagers in the courtyard. The grass smelled fresh, and was neatly cut in a sea of lush green. I lay down on the top of the bench, brushing my bright red orange hair out of my face in the process. The sky had a few clouds here and there, but the sky was glowing blue. Like Noah's eyes... I closed my eyelids tight. I was NOT thinking about it. I breathed a heavy sigh and turned on my side, making my hair fall in my face again. How was I going to work with him if anytime I saw him, I thought of Lori, and how I couldn't shake that they fit together somehow?
“Audrey, is that you?” a voice called for me. I looked, and saw Noah making his way toward me. Oh no. I got up quickly, and tried to run, but I was too late.
“What's the rush?” he asked. He grabbed my arm, and I unintentionally snatched it away.
“I'm sorry, but I was just leaving,” I lied on the spot.
“You didn't look like you were going to leave anytime soon just a couple seconds ago,” he said, with a smirk. Realizing I was caught, I slowly sat back down on the bench.
He was wearing his leather jacket, but instead of the uniform that looked so awkward on him, he was wearing a black t-shirt, like me, and gray pants with black splatters on them. It fit him better, and looked good on him. I intentionally didn't look at his face.
“So did you make the twitter account?” he asked me. I only nodded.
“What's the password?”
“Mentalchick, no spaces,” I said. “I think it fits,” I added for a chuckle. And daringly, I looked at him. He was smiling and shaking his head at me. “I don't get it. How does the rest of the world find this play romantic, but you don't?”
“Because I'm the only one in this world with a brain?” I guessed.
“Are you implying I don't have a brain?” he asked pretending to be offended.
“Maybe,” I answered, and laughed as he flopped on the bench.
“I envy them a little though,” he said, but then made a face that said “I said too much.”
“Why?” I asked, now extremely curious.
He opened his mouth, and then closed it, and reopened it, and then closed it again. He closed his eyes but his face as a whole was grim, as if he were remembering something painful, and he didn't look like Lori. He looked like Noah, his own person. He sighed, and sat back up on the bench slowly. He didn't look at me, and folded his hands in his lap. He gave another sigh before starting.
“I envy them, because their suicides were successful.” he said in a low, slow voice.
“You've attempted suicide before?” I asked in a whisper. He only nodded, while the rest of his body stayed still. I put my hand on his shoulder. A wind blew through.
“I don't want to pry, but can you tell me why?”
“I'd rather not,” he answered quickly. His body was stiff, but a tear slipped through his closed eye.
“If it makes you feel any better,” I started, “I've attempted suicide too.”
He looked up at me with wet eyes. “You have?” he asked in shock and disbelief.
“Uh-huh,” I answered. It was about 3 years ago. One day I was just fed up with everything. Tired of the 6th sense, tired of my parents trying to buy my love, tired of my 'guaranteed happiness' lifestyle, and I just downed a whole bunch of aspirin pills. My parents found me passed out on the bathroom floor. I was rushed to the hospital in the nick of time. The doctors said if I stayed there much longer I would have gone comatose by the time I got to the hospital. But I wasn't going to tell him that. Besides, he didn't tell me his reason either. Why should I?
“Actually that does make me feel a little better,” he said, giving me a weak smile through his tears, and I put my arms around him to comfort him. He put his head on my shoulder.
“Aw, don't you two look cute?” a mocking voice said. The cold chill up my spine made me go stiff. I didn't have to look to see who it was.
Desmond walked in front of us. “You have my vote for cutest couple.” he said in that same mocking tone, making a heart with his fingers. And then he held up three fingers at Noah. I looked over to him. His eyes were completely dry now, and he was staring intently at Desmond. His jaw was clenched, and so were his fists. I could see his vain, popping out against his pale skin, making me scoot over a little. Desmond chuckled one last time, and walked away.
The chill slowly went away as he walked farther and farther in the distance.
I feel bad about turning down Noah's offer. I really wanted to help, but I had to worry about myself too. But Wesley was being bullied pretty badly, so did that make me selfish? Oh crap. It did make me selfish. Time to swallow your fear.
“That jackass!” Noah said through clenched teeth. He was still staring at Desmond as he was walking away.
“I want to help,” I said before I had time to second guess myself.
“No need,” he replied instead.
“What?” I asked, feeling an odd sense of rejection.
“You don't have to help. I got this. By myself,” he told me, staring at me with revenge ridden eyes that scared the crap out of me, even more so because I was thinking of Lori again, but I didn't let how scared I was show. He got up from the bench and walked away. And I was left alone to ponder my own thoughts.
I was trying to keep my breath as shallow and hollow as possible. My back was pressed up against the wall as I inched through the hallway, trying to stay as quiet as possible. It was exactly 12 midnight. Everyone was supposed to be in their dorm by ten, and wandering around on campus after hours was strictly prohibited, but I needed to get to the kitchen.
It was dark. All of the hallway lights were off, but the light shining in from the moon and stars through the windows made it easier to see. With my dark hair and clothes, blending in with the shadows in the corners shouldn't shouldn't be that hard. Besides, I was used to sneaking around campus at night, mainly because of Nemo, and borrowing things for him.
I came to a corner, and slowly craned my neck around to see if any security guards were roaming these halls. None in sight. I put my right leg around after my head, and slowly, the rest of my body followed. I could feel the softness of the red carpet as my feet pressed in slowly, one foot in front of the other. The wall was a little cold through my thin black sweater, but it I ignored it. The mission ahead of me was more important than a little coldness.
I got to a staircase, and stayed to the side closest to the window, because below it was nothing but shadow, and perfect for keeping me hidden. I made sure I didn't make any sudden movements, and crept down stair step by stair step. I was almost down when I lost footing. My foot missed a step, and I was traveling face first into the ground. Luckily, just before my face landed on the floor, I managed to grab hold of the railing, making a slight thud, and clanging noise.
I held my body in place. I held my breath. I didn't move a thing except my heart, which was about to beat out of my chest. I sat there for about a minute straight, listening intently for any footsteps, or voices. I didn't hear any.
Slowly, I moved my feet down the rest of the staircase. Now on the ground floor, I took my shoes off and put them in my back, so I was just in my socks, making sure I didn't make a sound. Still staying close to the wall, I scurried my way through the lobby, making sure I stayed away from the Leopard insignia in the middle. Any contrast between the black of my pants, and the orange of the insignia would instantly result in me getting caught. I was still making sure I kept my breathing shallow and quiet, when I slowly crept into the cafeteria. Knowing all the lunch ladies had gone home for the day, and no janitor or security guard ever bothered to check in here, I slowly inched along the wall, and into the kitchen.
I tried to find my way through everything in the dark. The tiny cracks of light peaking through the translucent, tiny windows built high in the walls helped a little, but not much. I pulled my gloves out of my back pocket, slid them on my hands, and felt through the work places slowly, making sure I didn't bump anything.
A scuff around the corner stopped me. Instinctively, I quickly hid under the counter I was scoping. Holding my breath, I slowly peered from under the counter, making sure I stayed hidden.
A lunch lady was still here. She was cleaning off the area I had just scanned down. She seemed to into her work to notice me. She was humming a little tune that sounded like the song Dorothy, the scarecrow, lion, and tin man sing on their way to the Wizard of Oz.
She swiped the same area for what seemed like 5 minutes. Maybe she did see me, and she was just waiting for me to come out. The thought made my palms sweat inside my gloves. When she moved down farther away from me, that theory became less likely. Finally, she finished, and left out of the kitchen, leaving me free to roam it once again. Letting out a huge breath, I glided out from under the counter.
I eased from out of the counter, and found what I was looking for. The cup that held all the cooking tools. The spoons, forks, ladles, rolling pins, spatulas, and in the midst of it all, I reached in, jiggled around a little bit, and pulled out the shiniest, most jagged, perfect looking knife I could find.
It's stainless steal glinted off the little moonlight that shown through the windows. Yes, I thought to myself. This was going to do just fine.
She didn't even speak yet and I already knew she was going to annoy the crap out of me. She was small, with an extremely big, fake looking smile plastered on the bottom half of her face. Her hair was brown and straight to her shoulders, with her bangs pinned back with a flower clip. And the ultimate taboo at this school: she wore her uniform correctly. She looked like such a prep. It was irritating.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a new student,” Miss Campbell said as she gestured to the new girl. The new girl waved excitedly at us, her fake smile getting even bigger, which I didn't think was possible. Barf.
“Her name is Sadie-” Sadie? You've gotta be kidding me... “Jones. Be nice to her,” she said, looking right at me.
“Since when am I ever not nice, Miss Campbell?”
“I'll get back to you on that.”
I rolled my eyes. Even though I detested Miss Campbell with an indescribable passion, this back and forth game we had was pretty entertaining. And at least it gave me something to do.
“You can sit there,” she told Sadie, pointing to the desk in the far back corner.
“Now, it's time for warm up. Glad to see you bothered to show up on time for that today, Miss Lawrence,” she said, again, looking right at me. I waved at her with a cheesy smile.
She waddled her way to the board, and wrote a sentence that read 'The ball went over the neighbors fence and I had to go get it.' I almost laughed at how juvenile the sentence was. We are juniors, Miss Campbell. Give us something more advanced with that.
“Can someone tell me what this sentence was missing?”
Sadie's hand nearly shot up out of it's socket. She was actually eager to answer the question? What? Miss Campbell turned around, and almost burst into tears, she looked so happy. It made sense. Everyone else just kind of put there head down. At least they did whenever I was here for warm up.
“It;'s missing a comma between 'fence,' and 'and.'” her voice was extremely upbeat, and perky. Oh dear God. Yeah, she was definitely gonna annoy me.
“Thank you, Sadie. Your off to a nice start in here.”
“Now, as we've been doing this past week, we will be getting in our partners.” I slowly started to get up, until Miss Campbell interrupted me. “Oh wait, Miss Lawrence, it seems as though your partner isn't here.”
I looked over at Noah's desk to find it empty. Why hadn't I noticed he wasn't here earlier?
“Well, isn't that an inconvenience?”
“Tragic,” I said.
“Well, we definitely can't have you working alone, now can we?” With sly eyes, she moved her gaze over to Sadie, who sat there, confused. Don't you dare, you miserable, miserable bitch.
“You can work with Sadie for today. Actually, why don't you become a group. You know, like permanently?”
Slowly turned my head to Miss Campbell, who was staring at me like she had no idea what she had just done. I flashed her one of my 'I hate you' smiles. She flashed one back to me with a flick of her nonexistent hair.
Sadie was already perkily bouncing over to me. I don't even know why perky people bothered me so much. Maybe it was their attitude, how everything in the world was chocolate and rainbows and perfect, to them, when that couldn't be farther from the truth. I should know. I have ghosts and other things that stalk me.
“Hi,” she said.
“What's up?” I said.
“The ceiling,” she said with a goofy smile, giggling into her other palm. I raised my eyebrows at her. Did she seriously just say that? Please, don't tell me she just said that.
“We should get started on the project, don't you think?” Before I could answer she already grabbed me by the wrist, and was dragging me to her seat. This girl had way too much energy.
“So,” she started as she plopped in her seat, “what is this project about?”
This girl dragging me across the room made me a little dizzy, and I had to refocus myself before answering. “Um,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose between my eyes, “we're doing this thing called character twitters, and we update them as if, we were Romeo and Juliet.”
There was no point in fighting her. If she was going to be working with Noah and me for the whole project, might as well be nice to her too.
Oh crap. I made the twitter a couple days ago, and I haven't updated it yet. Noah was gonna kill me.
Noah. My gaze wandered over to his vacant desk. Why wasn't he here? Was he sick? No, wasn't sick a couple days ago on the bench. On the bench he seemed perfectly fine. That is, until he started talking about how his attempted suicide. And until Desmond walked by...
You don't have to help. I got this. By myself. When he said that, his eyes looked so dark. They were a little bloodshot, and they weren't that warm, calming, deep blue ocean color that I liked. They were hollow, and cold, like ice. His voice was even harder and colder, and felt like ice shards literally going through me, sending a shiver up my spine. It was like he was possessed or something.
I looked at Noah's desk again. Wherever he was, I really hope he wasn't off somewhere doing something that would get himself hurt.
“Hello, can you hear me?” Sadie snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“Huh, yeah, I can hear you,” I told her, which wasn't a lie. I could here, her, it was just her words that didn't register.
“So can I?”
“Can you what?”
“Can I be Benvolio?”
“Oh, yeah sure if you want.”
She nodded up and down like a bobble head. I looked at my desk to conceal my eye roll.
“So do you want to read?” She asked me.
“Ehh, not today,” I replied, looking at my fingernails.
She slammed her book on her desk, making me jump a little. “I don't care. I need a good grade on this,” she said, in a serious tone, which due to her upbeat voice, was hard to not laugh at. I raised my eyebrows again. Who did she think she is?
“Oh I'm sorry. Do mommy and daddy not love you enough to get you a trust fund? Boo hoo, and hoo again.” I shot back.
I couldn't resist. That was a big pet peeve of mine. When every little rich person in the world talked about how miserable they were, when their lives could be a lot worse, I just wanted to punch them in the face. I'm not gonna lie, it utterly pissed me off.
“What are you talking about? I'm not rich,” she said with tiny little eye slits.
“Well, you're definitely not here on a scholarship,” I snapped.
“And how would you know that? You didn't ask me.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest. “I get it. You're one of those people,”
“What do you mean 'one of those people?'” I asked with extra stiffness in my voice.
“You stereotype people. You think just because of the way I carry myself, that I have everything. Right?” the way she was talking to me now surprised me. She was actually... mad.
“I don't stereotype people,” I said.
“Sure you do. I heard about Noah by the way. And how he's kind of weird. What did you think of him when you first saw him?” she leaned back on her desk, getting close in my face.
I thought he was a depressed at everything for no reason, emo, cutter freak. I labeled him. Without knowing anything about him, I wrote him off. Now I knew this was not the case. Last week, when we were first assigned as partners, we were walking through the garden outside the lobby. That was when I found out he was a scholarship student. He didn't mean to tell me, it jut kind of slipped out, but he didn't seem to care. But he wouldn't talk after that.
Plus, it's only when Desmond's around that he's a little scary. And only a little. I've been dealing with paranormal stuff most of my life, so Noah compared to them is nothing. But I wasn't going to tell Sadie any of this.
“Just like I thought,” Sadie said, snapping me out of my inner babble. She went back to her book.
“Wait, so if you don't have everything delivered to you on a silver platter, why are you so perky all the time?”
“Well, when things seem down, there's always something to be happy for, right?”
I chewed over this. I didn't necessarily agree with her, but at least she made sense.
“CODE BLUE, I REPEAT CODE BLUE!” Mr. Hall's voice blared over the intercom, making me jump out of my seat about five inches.
My head began to swim, making me a little nauseous. I knew exactly what code blues were. Someone was hurt. My head snapped back to Noah's empty desk. Oh God. He did do something stupid. The revenge in his eyes a couple days ago said he was dead serious, I just hoped he wasn't dead. Why didn't I tell him Desmond wasn't human when I had the chance? All this probably wouldn't have happened. I hoped he would be smart enough not to get involved with him. Oh why didn't I tell him? Who cared if he was keeping secrets also, this was his life at stake now? I jumped out of my seat, and ran to the door, grabbing Sadie and dragging her with me, shaking my short red hair in front of my face.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We gotta find Noah. No time to explain,” I answered.
“Miss Lawrence, you know the rules. We're not supposed to leave the classroom!” Miss Campbell shouted after me.
“Bite me, old lady!” I shouted back over my shoulder.
“We're not supposed to leave? No, I can't get in trouble. I'm on a scholarship!”
“Just trust me okay?” I asked.
She hesitated, but she eventually nodded.
“Good,” I said, and proceeded to drag her down the hallway, desperately searching for Noah.
Breath in, breath out, I told myself. I had to stay calm, or it would hurt more. The dorm hallways windows had the best view of the outside garden. Everyone was expected to be in class, so no one really bothered to look who was still wandering around in the dorms. Not even the dorm advisors. I gazed over to the window, and looked to the outside.
I squinted. The sun made it a little harder to see through the glass, but I managed. My gaze wandered around the garden, but I didn't see anybody. The school may be full of snobby rich kids, but for the most part, everyone followed the rules. All except one.
In the distance, Desmond sat on the bench me and Audrey were at a few days ago. And he was alone, just like I expected him to be. Everything was just as I had anticipated.
Using my gloved hands, I slowly pulled the jagged knife out of my back pocket. I held it up to the sun, letting it reflect of the stainless steel metal, and shine on the walls. Slowly, I put it to my mouth and slowly dragged it across my tongue. Not to dull, but not to sharp either, meaning it would cause any wound or cut to be intentionally worse. It was perfect.
I began walking down the dorm, checking to really make sure no one was around. Not a teacher, or security guard was in sight. Everything was quiet. I chuckled to myself. Things really couldn't be anymore perfect for me.
I slowly backed away from the window. Standing in the middle of the hallway, I slid my jacket off and put it back in my dorm. It would only get in my way, slow me down.
I walked a little farther down the hallway, stopping when I was at just the right distance from my room. Taking another deep breath, I put the knife to my arm, pressed it into my uniform, and yanked the knife down my arm, causing my uniform to tear, as well as breaking the skin underneath, making sure the wound was deep enough to look real. A small whimper came from my lips, but I didn't care. It would all be worth it in the end.
Using my now bleeding arm, I put the knife to my other arm, repeating the gesture, except this time at a different angle. I wanted these to look as non-self inflicted as possible. Tears were starting to well in my eyes, and I silently let them fall as I preceded to cut my left leg. It made my legs go numb, and I fell to the floor. Tears would only make this more convincing, why not let them fall?
Getting an idea, I raised the knife to my cheek, and slashed it. The tears dripping into the cut made it sting. Actually the cuts all over me were starting to sting, but I ignored the pain, and moved on to my abdomen. Raising the knife to my stomach, I dug deeper than usual, and yanked the knife across my stomach. Muffled screams were coming from my lips, trying to ignore it. Suck it up Noah. You have to do this. It's the only way he'll learn...
Raising the knife a little farther up, yanked the jagged knife across my chest. A little blood shot up from out of me, and landed on the floor. Following it's example, the blood from my previous cuts were starting to ooze out of me, and land on the floor. Slowly making my way to my feet so nothing hurt more than it already did, I flung myself into the walls, and all over the floor, spreading the blood so it looked like someone was struggling. Looking back on the hallway, and down at my blood stained uniform, I couldn't be anymore proud of myself. Little pieces of carpet were caked into my cuts, but the nurse would take care of that later. I had to make this look believable if I wanted it to work.
My whole body felt like it was bleeding. For a second I felt like just giving up... no. That's a weak way of thinking. I made a vow to myself. No one I care about will get hurt under my watch. I promised myself, ever since that day four years ago...
My breath was becoming more and more shallow, probably due to blood loss, but for now I just endured. I made my way to the stares by holding on to the walls. My vision was beginning to blur. When I got to the stairs, I walked down bit by bit, but that didn't stop me from losing my footing. Unlike a couple days ago when I went to get the knife, I let my self fall down the stairs. The knife that I was holding in my hand stabbed me a little in the arm, but the more cuts, the better. When I finally made my way to the bottom, I stayed there for a second. I hurt all over, and I needed to rest it off a little, but I could care less about how badly I was hurt. The more beat up and battered I looked, the better.
When I felt like I was rested enough, I slowly got up, trying to keep my breathing deep, and making sure I got enough oxygen to my head.
I slowly walked down the hallway. 115. 117. 119. Gotcha. I knew Desmond left his dorm room open. I guess he thought because he was so tough or whatever, no one would dare enter. He didn't know me very well.
I turned the knob to his dorm, and slowly opened it, making a little creek sound. It wasn't anything special. He didn't even have any posters on his walls or anything. All in all, his room was just plain boring. I lifted the knife up in front of my face, and smiled mischievously. This bloody little beauty would definitely spice it up a little, and I tossed the knife under his desk, making sure the knife stuck out just enough so you could see it, and shut the door behind me. Turning around, I limped back down the hallway, and to the infirmary. My adrenaline was pumping, which I'm sure was the only think keeping me from collapsing in a bloody heap on the floor. This was almost too perfect. Quickly opening the door, I limped in frantically, making a show of falling in front of her desk.
“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed and shot right up out of her seat when she saw my wounded body. She was a small thing, with a short blonde pixie cut.
“Help, please,” I said, breathless.
She put her hands under my arms and slowly lifted me up and dragged me to the back room where all the beds and medical equipment lay. She laid me down on one of the beds. For someone so small, she sure was strong.
“Dr. Gray! Come quick, it's an emergency!” she called in the other back door. She turned to me.
“Sweetie, would you like to tell me what happened?” she asked, her eyes darting to each one of my wounds, slowly shaking her head. Her face was horrified, if not a little green.
“I – I don't k-know,” I said, making my voice shaky. “Someone with a knife and a mask, they flung at me, I,” I started busting out into tears, and the nurse immediately put her arms around me, comforting me, not caring if her scrub was now a bloody mess.
“What were you doing in the boys dorm, instead of in class?” she asked gently.
“I was just going back for my Romeo and Juliet book. I – I didn't think...” I intentionally trailed off and went back to wailing in her arms. Teacher's here were suckers. All I had to do was think of a thin excuse, and play the victim. It worked every time.
At that moment, busting through the door was someone who I guess was Dr. Gray. He took one look at me, and his face was a level of utter shock and disbelieve I've never seen before. It made sense. At this school, almost everyone was a goody two shoes. The worst incident we've ever had was smoking on school grounds, and that only happened once in the entire school's history, so my current condition was probably as rare as the zombie apocalypse.
“Dr.!” the nurse exclaimed as she gently set me back down on the bed. She rushed to him, and talked to him in a hushed tone, but I could hear everything they were saying. “This boy was attacked by a masked man with a knife.” Dr. Gray's eyes bulged a little, but recomposed himself, probably because he didn't want me to feel uncomfortable and nervous. He looked at me, but nodded at the nurse.
He walked over to my bedside. “What's your name son?” he asked me.
“Noah Stevens,” I barely whispered. I didn't have to try to act broken, I was already badly beaten up, but I did have to conceal my smile.
“Okay, Noah Stevens, I'm going to have to examine your wounds, to see how bad they are okay?”
I nodded. He was talking to me like you would talk to a fifth grader. I know he was just trying to be sensitive, but it annoyed me a little how most of the staff treated us like babies.
He slowly took off the vest part of my uniform, trying to make sure he didn't hurt me. The white undershirt was worse than I anticipated. The entire torso area was red. Dr. Gray drew a deep breath, and slowly unbuttoned the white shirt.
Underneath it was also worse. The zig-zag I drew across my stomach was jagged, and vomit inducing. The skin around it was sticking up, and you could see little pieces of meat hanging out. The slash I drew across my chest looked identical. Dr. Gray looked like he was about to pass out.
“Do you know if anything is broken?” he asked.
Up until now I haven't really thought about it. I tried moving my leg that was cut. When I could move it, I moved on to the next leg. I could move that just fine too. I could also move my right arm. However, when I tried to move my left arm, it just stayed there, limp. It must have broken when I threw myself down the stairs.
“Um, Doc, I can't move my left arm,” I told him.
“We're going to have to give you x-rays then,” he said, “but before that, we have to disinfect these, and stitch them up,” he finished, trying hard to keep his thin composure. “If you don't mind my asking, do you know who may have done this to you?”
“I don't want to rat anybody out...” I lied, intentionally not giving them a name yet. I had to make this charade as believable as possible, or they'd see right through me. And they'd interrogate me until they found out what I really did. And they'd think I was crazy.
“You wouldn't be ratting anybody out,” Dr. Gray assured me.
I took a deep breath, and bit my lip, milking the entire thing. “Well,” I started, “there's this guy who I've been having problems with lately. Desmond Cole.” My mind wandered to the knife. “I don't want to put him on blast or anything, but I'd check his dorm first.”
“Call the office, and while your at it, tell them to call the police,” Dr. Gray said to the nurse. She nodded, and rushed back to her office.
This was the only way I would be able to teach him a lesson. I couldn't beat him physically, so picking a fight with him on purpose would be a wasted effort. I had to beat him mentally, and in a way so I was sure he got it the first time. I didn't care how that happened, all I knew was that I had to protect those I cared about, or they would get hurt, or slip away from me. I'd jump at it when I had the chance... no matter how drastic the measures were. On the outside I was crying from the hurt and pain of my wounds, but on the inside, I was giddy like a little child.