A/N: This is my frst SH fic, and I think I'm gonna have some fun with this one (he he he...) WARNING: this chapter will most likely be the most boring of them all; because I've gotta get this baby off the ground. So, sit back and enjoy! (I hope...)
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"God dammit!"
The machine had met the force of her steel-toed boot, but still no effect. The cold bastard was taunting her, that's what it was.
"Ms. Mason." She heard, and John walked past her to the side of the soda dispenser. John was one of her students, a senior, and had been the most helpful so far. Then again, she'd only been a teacher for two weeks, so she was still a "noobi".
He hit the thing on the side, in a specific spot it appeared, and, sure enough, the bottle fell out of the port. "Thanks" she said, twisting the top. She looked inside the cap. "Damn. I never win." she said, taking a long swig.
"Actually, Ms. Mason, I kinda had a question." he said, as the two began walking to her classroom. Honestly, she it was too early for her to be thinking, but she figured she owed it to him.
"Well, you know The Stomp's in two weeks. And, um..."
"Oh god, please don't tell me you're asking me!" she joked. He smiled, and continued walking. "No, actually I was kinda here to ask a favor."
She looked up to him, and had already figured out what he wanted. Highschoolers were so easy to read these days...
"Kylie Clark. Yes, I'll partner you two up for the Psychoanalysis report." she laughed. He nodded, and slightly blushed. "Well, don't act so surprised. It's not like every time you drool over the girl you're invisible. I notice." she laughed. The bell rang, and the hallways became a bustling super-highway.
"Thanks Ms. Mason!" he said as he ran off. She shook her head, and squeezed her way into her room. She really wished everyone would stop calling her 'Ms. Mason'. It sounded too old, and she was only 24. She told them to call her Cheryl, but they all stuck to Ms. Mason.
She waltzed into the small room, and set her bag upon the desk. She glanced around, seeing only a few people in their seats, the rest un-arrived.
She turned, and began writing on the white board. It was enigmatic to herself how, or even why, she had fallen into the field of Psychology. What disturbed her even more was that she had become a teacher, and just to take it a step further, she enjoyed it.
She heard the bell, a loud "beep" that seemed to go on forever. Annoying it was, but she focused on the class. Everyone was there, on time, which seemed to be the norm. she heard other teachers bitch about how their students always "sluffed".
When she first came to teach at South Ashfield High, she was completely unaware of what "sluff" was. She soon found out that it was their word for skip - an odd choice. So, long story short, no sluffing, as she had become accustomed to, had occurred in her class yet. She figured the guys liked looking at her figure in low-rise jeans, and the girls found her ideally liberating.
"All right you little bastards." she began. There was a wave of laughter throughout the room, and she smiled. "We are discussing dogmatic convictions, and how its affected the world around us, whether it be on a subconscious level or not."
"So, anybody have any suggestions?" she asked. No hands, though that was no surprise. She turned, marker in hand, and began to write on the board.
"How about Art? Music? Movies and the Cinematic area?" she said aloud as she began writing the topics down. "Or even modern literature, which on that note, you'll be happy to know that my book was accepted and is being launched for publishment in November." she said. There was a small applaud, and she bowed, mocking the "Oscar acceptance" speech, wiping an invisible tear from her eyes.
"Ms. Mason?"
She looked up and saw a single hand in the air. "Yeah?" she replied. The person stood, a young Girl. She had long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, terribly thin. Cheryl spaced off for a few seconds, pondering about how she did miss being a blonde these days.
"This is your second fictional novel, isn't?" she asked. Cheryl shrugged, and nodded in agreement to the girl. "Is it a sequel of Harry's story, or is it something new?"
Cheryl stood, and paced. She was surprised any of them had actually read the book, but horror novels do sell well these days. "Well, actually, it is a sequel, but not in the traditional fashion." she said.
"How many of you have actually read it?" she asked. She figured most hadn't, so she'd explain. However, she looked around to see every hand in the air. "Oh?"
"Well, of course everybody's read it! Didn't you know? Your book is third place in the country's top ten horror novels - it's been nominated three times for the Kleinburg award. It's a cult classic. It's original, it's chilling, it's..." the girl, Natasha, continued, "a masterpiece." Cheryl knew it was doing well with all the money coming in, but she didn't know so many people loved it.
"Thank you Natasha, that was...interesting input. Anyway, this next one's Heather's story." she said. She was a little concerned about the girl's apparent obsession. They all began mumbling, asking her what it's about, if some people are going to be in it, or coming back. Cheryl raised a hand, and they fell silent.
"You'll just have to wait for it to be published." she said. She hadn't expected the extreme success of the novel, but it was easy to write, because it's easy when you've lived it. But the fact that she had so many fans was sort of the highlight of her morning.
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"Yo!" she called out. He looked around, and saw her waiting. Backing up the car, he stopped for her to hop in.
"How's it goin' Uncle Henry?" she said, throwing her bag in the back seat. He shook his head. "Would it kill you to just call me Henry for once? Uncle just makes it sound...old. I'm only 25 - I have a life!" he said. She rolled her eyes, and went back to the book she was holding.
He pulled out of the school parking lot, and into the midday traffic. He glance to the book, and read the title. SILENT HILL.
"You're still reading that?" he said. She glared at him, and then back to the book. "I happen to be reading it again. I always read books through twice." she said. He kept his eyes on the road, and sighed.
"Why don't you read something contemporary?"
"Since when did you become such a tool?" she said. Kylie did have his sister in her, unfortunately. And to think, he was dealing with her for the weekend.
It wasn't the book he had anything against, just that every time he heard the damn name it brought back this little twinge of "Nostalgia". He'd rather not think about all the crazy shit he went through.
"Besides. Don't knock her just because she's got some fame. I mean, she's got a psychology degree, she's an active teacher, she's got the sequel coming out this fall, and director Christophe Gans wants to make a movie out of it."
"What is she, your 'Idol'?" he laughed. She crossed her arms, book still in hand, and spat out "As a matter of fact, she is."
Henry didn't mean to, but somehow he always came off as aggressive to Kylie, while more or less, passive to everyone else. He fell silent for a few minutes, but finally, yet sheepishly, replied "Sorry." She said nothing, but continued to stare out of her window.
"By the way, mom said you've got to go to my Parent/Teacher conferences tonight." she said. Henry groaned. He was tired as hell, for he hadn't had a blink of sleep for the past twenty-hours, and now he had to go to this thing. "What time is it?" he sighed in question.
"7:00" she replied. He shook his head. This was the worst weekend her mom decided to drop her off on him. But, he happened to be lucky that she was easy to keep occupied.
"So you still seeing that...lady?" she said. He glanced over. "Eileen. No, I'm not." he said. She shifted in her seat.
"Good, because she was a real..." she began, but faded off. It was true. After what happened to the two, he thought they'd be closer. But, she changed. She was...truly crazy. She had to be committed, and they said she was cured. Then she moved in with him, and...long story short, a suicide jump isn't a pretty sight.
Arriving, Kylie looked at the small house. It was a very small house, this was true, but it was a hell of a lot better than that dump he lived in a year ago. Kylie had gone to the front door, waiting for him to unlock it. He gathered her bag out of the back seat, and strode to the front door.
Having unlocked the front door, the 16 year old girl pushed past him and into the living room, where she plopped down on the couch, and flipped on the T.V. Henry took her bag into her room. She had her own room there because her mother passed her off on him more than she should have.
He sluggishly made his way to the kitchen and took a glass from the right cabinet above the faucet. "I'm gonna go lay down. Wake me up at 6." he called out. She called back something incoherent, and he drank the glass of water he'd just poured. True, three hours wasn't much, but it was something, right?
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Exhaustion. That's what it all was. She was putting up with far too much. She was 24, and she was dealing more than she should have.
She needed to get away, that's what. She just needed an escape. Maybe she just needed to get laid? She definitely didn't have time for romance...
Suddenly Cheryl's phone rang. She pulled the cell phone out of her jeans, and sighed. It was James. She answered and listened. "Hello?" she asked.
"Yeah, Cheryl? This is James Sunderland - Your publicist." he said. She rolled her eyes. "James, I know you're my publicist. You published my first book, we've talked numerous times, I know." she laughed.
"Right, sorry...Listen. The demand for this second book is out of hand. The country wants it out now, and I'm getting it all shoved at me. I mean, your first book outsold any of Stephen King's books, and this one might just out do the Harry Potter series combined."
She felt a little 'special', if that was the word, hearing about her success. "So what's the problem?" she asked, stretching out on her European King-sized bed.
"Well, I was wondering if you minded me bumping the date a little forward." he said. She raised her brow and asked "How much sooner are we talking about?" she asked. "Like, "tomorrow" soon." he said. She sat up.
"Of course not. That's even better." she said. She was beginning to feel a little giddy. Never did she expect to be so famous so young.
"Also, you're wanted for a few T.V. spots. Nothing big, just A Current Affair, Regis & Kelly, Oprah, etc." he said. "Well, I'll call you later this evening for the details..." he said. She was about to say goodbye, but heard him hang up.
She rolled onto her side, and looked out of the window. She had everything she could want. She had a huge house on the high-rise of the city, money, friends, and a normal life - something she'd never had before.
She stood up and glanced at the clock. It was a fifteen 'til seven, and she figured she'd better head down to the school. She didn't think the parents would approve of her attire, but she could care less.
She walked through the house, grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter as she went on her way.
Okay, so she figured meeting the parents of her students would be harder, but they were nice and casual to her. Civil was the word, but every last one of them went on about how their child was "so smart" and slightly ahead of the rest.
Then she saw Natasha with a tall woman, about as pale as her. "Mom, this is my teacher, Cheryl Mason." she said. They both sat down in the two seats provided. "My mom's somewhat of a fan of yours." she said.
"It is an honor, Ms. Mason." she said, taking her hand. The woman seemed to look creepy, but looked somewhat familiar. "So you enjoyed the book, I take it?" Cheryl asked.
"Yes. It was very insightful, and what Dahlia did to that poor girl." she said. Cheryl smiled. "Well, the second book is actually hitting shelves tomorrow - I just found out myself today." she told the woman. "My name is Joanne."
"Joanne Stephens, I'm assuming. Natasha is a wonderful student." Cheryl said. The woman sat back. "Oh, no. My daughter's last name is Stephen's after her father. But I have kept my maiden name. So just call me Joanne." she said, smiling.
"Well, I have other parents waiting, but it was very nice to meet you." Cheryl said. The woman then gained her attention once more. "Could I ask you to sign this?" she asked. She pulled out a copy of her book, a hard back edition. Cheryl nodded, and quickly signed her signature.
"Thank you so much." Joanne said before leaving.
Cheryl looked down to her list of students, and checked Natasha's off. She then glanced up, and saw the last thing she expected.
All of the other fathers so far were at least mid thirties to early forties. However, the man before her, sitting in the plastic chair, was quite a manner of spectacle. He had brown hair, parted to the side, and hazel eyes to die for.
He wore a light blue button shirt, and jeans that really seemed to be working for him. She admitted now that it had been far too long since she'd had a man, and he would be on her list of things to do if you catch her drift.
"Ms. Mason?" Kylie said. She snapped to, and smiled. "Sorry, just a few things on my mind." she said, holding out her arm. "Cheryl." she said. He took her hand, which she noticed he had strong hands, and shook hers lightly. "Henry. Uh- Townsend, I'm Kylie's Uncle. My sister couldn't make it tonight, and she's staying with me for the weekend."
"Oh, no, that's perfectly fine. I had hoped that she would bring someone, because there is something I'd like to discuss with the both of you here." she said. Kylie sat, looking a little bored, or nervous, Cheryl couldn't determine.
"The semester just started, so this isn't much of a concern if it doesn't continue, but Kylie doesn't seem to be participating when we're doing "in class" work. She seems to get bored easily, and when she turns in her homework, it's always at least an A- or higher.
"Now, we've completed a total of seven assignments, three were home and four were group work.." she said. Henry seemed to be glancing to the girl, who was looking away.
"I'm sorry, I really am. She's a good kid, but...I don't know what we can do about in school stuff." he said. Cheryl like the slight five o'clock shadow he had going on. It was slightly rugged, but just subtle enough. However, she had to stay focused.
"I was thinking she could join an after school program - something a little more 'social'."
"Well, I'll talk to her about it tonight. What do you think about it Kylie?" he said. She seemed to be focused on something, and then returned to the current situation. "What? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that..." she said.
Cheryl turned in her seat, and caught what Kylie had been starring at. It all made since now, and she knew why Kylie was acting so reclusive. "Ms. Mason?" She heard Henry say.
"I sorry." she said turning to face him. "Call me Cheryl - could you give us a moment alone?" she asked him. He shrugged, and stood. He walked off, or more or less wandered out of her room.
"You wouldn't happen to be doing so poorly because of John Kaufmann, would it?" she smiled. Kylie avoided eye contact. Cheryl tried not to laugh. High school kids were a kick, but she composed herself. "Look..."
"Why don't I partner you up with John on the Psychoanalysis project?" she said. Kylie looked at her teacher. "You're serious? You'd do that?" she asked. Cheryl raised her brow.
"What's wrong? You look, for lack of a better word, mortified." she said. Kylie sat straight up and stared. "It's just that I've never had a teacher so understanding. You're pretty...cool." she said. She stood, and straightened her clothes.
"By the way, my uncle's single." she said. "Don't think I didn't notice you checking him out." she laughed as she walked out. Cheryl blushed. She hadn't realized it was obvious, but guys were usually oblivious to flirt, so she didn't have to worry.
Three hours of flattery and autographs can really wear you down, as she soon found. What she needed was fresh air, now that she was finished. She wanted to go home, and that's what she planned on doing.
She found herself hungry, but didn't want to cook. Well, she figured that she was still driving, so she could stop somewhere. She turned into the first place she saw, a Happy Burger. She liked the one back at the mall...such fond memories of running for her life.
She stood out of her car, and shut the door. As she walked across the small lot, she saw the most pitiful car she'd ever laid eyes on. The car was blue, with one rusted door. It looked as though it was barely being held together.
Pushing the glass doors open, she saw that the place was relatively empty. She walked up to the service counter and waited.
Finally, a young teenager walked up. He looked as though he was tired, and just a little un-enthused. "Welcome to Happy Burger. Can I take your order..." he said monotonously.
"Just give me the Triple Happy Special." she said. He spoke into the small speaker, and gave her the total. She gave him a twenty, told him to keep the change. "We'll call your number when it's ready." he said.
She wandered around, until someone called her name. She turned and found a sexy stud sitting shirtless on the table, beckoning her to take her away into lust. Okay, so that wasn't true, but it was Henry and that was enough.
"Hey." He said, standing. She made her way over to the lonely table in the corner, and sat. He sat after her, and smiled. "Is Kylie here with you?" she asked. He shook his head. "Apparently she became a vegetarian, so she decided to stay home to protest liberal stuff she sees on T.V." he laughed, and she followed.
"So, never sat this close to a celebrity before." he said. She smiled, and looked out the window. "That's all Kylie seems to read anymore. I'm taking her down to the bookstore tomorrow to buy the next one."
"You sound like you didn't enjoy the read." she said. He took a drink from his soda, and looked back to her.
"Actually I haven't read it. Don't get me wrong, it's nothing against you, but...I just had a bad experience with Silent Hill about a year ago." he said. She looked down at the table. "Well, I hope it wasn't too terrible." she laughed. He remained silent, and began to reply, but then snapped his mouth shut. "You wouldn't understand..." he said.
"Try me." she challenged. He looked at her. "You'll only think I'm crazy." he replied. She laughed. "Trust me. There's nothing you can say about Silent Hill to make you sound crazy." she said.
He remained adamant about debating with himself, but finally began. "One day I woke up and my door was chained from the inside. There was a message on it that said 'don't go out! - Walter'. Well, there was also this hole in my bathroom, and every time I'd crawl through it, I'd end up somewhere near Silent Hill. There were these ghosts - murder victims, and monsters, and everyone started dying...all 'cause of this Walter Sullivan guy..." he said.
She found that none of what he said made any sense, so it must be true. He looked at her, and she seemed to be smiling. He knew he'd just blew his chances.
"That's something I'd expect to hear..." she said.
A/N: Okay, so here's the first chapter of my first SH fic! WHOOOOO! I know it may seem strange for James to be her publicist, but c'mon - they never explained what he did for a living, so I went with it. Anyway, I think Henry's a sexy bitch, and I like Heather, so I had to go with that too he he he. Well, feedback's always good (whether it be good or bad...) So now that you've got the reading part out of the way, go ahead and REVIEW! C'mon...you know you wanna...