The rain was pounding. Girls beside me squealed and covered their hair with homework as the boys pointed and laughed at them. Rolling my eyes at the people surrounding me I reached to the back of my sweater and yanked the dark purple hoodie over my wavy mass of black hair. Stuffing my hands into my pockets I felt around for change, I counted the coins between my fingers and was content to figure out I just had enough money for a small coffee from the cafe across the street from Wilson High School. I was a freshmen at Wilson High School, only fifteen and believed I knew everything, I was deep, different, artistic, at least thats how other saw me. But to me, I was like anybody else, average. I was shut out from others except for the few who enjoyed my company and the small amount I had to offer. I usually made friends with the different kids, the hippies, the soul deep poets and people who just didn't give a care about looks. A very few times I had been invited to big parties with the 'in' group but always refused, spending my night drawing, writing, and watching horror flicks while eating popcorn. I was happy by myself, I didn't need anybody else. I spent my lunch hours practicing my sprinting, finishing a project and hanging with a bunch of friends in the best library ever, in the school, laughing and listening to music while debating over the meaning of life. I picked up the pace, stretching my long legs for a longer stride. I could feel the unbelievable weight of my now wet hair weighing me down, sticking to my flushed face. My cheeks were warm with the small amount of exercise and my hair felt good against the skin. Ahead the dark, thick, gray clouds which hid the sun threatened for a storm.
The wind grew wildly, the sound of our school's Canadian flag flapping around, fighting the wind. I stared up at the flag as I kept walking, the lightning flashing behind it and the grey clouds giving it an appearance of darkness. Looking away I focused on the street ahead. Only a couple cars went by, easy enough to cross the road without a collision in the bad weather. Kids were leaning against the schools fence and the bus stop near by, some smurking, other smoking. All were so different, wanted different things, all just wanted, like I, to get threw high school unharmed. Kids sported green mohawk well others had blonde curls underneath school newspapers held with one hand, a cell phone under their ear and on their shoulder while applying pink,fruity lipgloss. Sometimes people amazed me. I wasn't the kind of person to try to be different, nor the same, I was just me, some people were okay with that, and some people weren't, and showed it. My wardrobe consisted of all the girly bombshell things you could find in black, red, or purple. The modern age girl with a vamp Marilyn Monroe twist was my style, i didn't fit into a category, I was just me. I had naturally wavy hair that curled nicely towards my upright and strong shoulder and was as black as the moonless night. A giant bus roared by,successfully getting some of the kids with a massive amount of mud smeared across their clothes and faces, hollering and cursing with hate, while the more girly kind cried in torment, complaining, asking for somebody to go fetch them a towel or something, going unanswered. Quickly I crossed the road, prancing and leaping across, extending my legs and pushing up from the ground, trying not to get soaked by the puddles that grew in the extremely small potholes in the street. Soon enough I was across the street and at the Brentwood Cafe. Content.
"Hey, Ophelia. What today?" The girl named Megan with big brown eyes and a cute brown bob cut at the counter asked as I came into the warm, smoky cafe. The only wet person in the cafe was me, everyone else was 'waiting out' the rain, or dreading going into it.
"Uh, small coffee please" I said, walking slowly to the counter, the smell of mochas and cinnamon sweetly caressing my senses. I looked up to the counter girl who was clicking button into the cash register and smiled.
"That will be 2.50." I counted the coins from my pocket and handed Megan a three Canadian dollars.
"Here." She handed me back fifty cents and called to a guy with the same brown hair and eyes that I didn't recognize, the order. "Just a second Ophelia, it will be done in no time."
"Thanks." I answered back, walking over to the ready orders counter."Small coffee?" I looked up to see the boy with brown hair and eyes looking at me. Smiling, dimples showing.
"Ah, ya, thanks." I said. I extended my arm for the coffee, nodded and took a seat at the little bar like counter that faced a large window that took up half the wall. It was convenient for people who liked the option staring at the outside world. Quickly I shook off my soaking sweater, the warmth of the cafe warming my exposed flesh. I wore a black sequenced tank that I had bought just recently. I dug into the limp and wet sweater and was revealed to find my cellphone still safe and dry in the opposite pocket i had my change in. I flipped opened the cell and speed dialed my parents. The other line buzzed for awhile before somebody answered.
"Hello, this is Jane Lune speaking." My mom's friendly, british voice answered.
"Hey mom, it's Ophelia".
Hey honey, whats up?"
"It is soaking over here, can you please come pick me up at the cafe please?"
"Sure thing, your dad and I are close by anyways. Be there in a sec."
"Bye."
"Bye Bye hon." The other line went dead and I patiently waited in the comfy leather stool. I was gazing off into the distance when I heard, loud, annoying, familiar honking. I looked over to the left of the large window and saw my parents parked on the side of the now bust road, waving frantically to get my attention. I gave a short wave back and got up from where I sat. Tugging on my wet sweater. As I excited the cafe the little bell on the door rang and Megan looked up from the customer she was serving and called out,
"Bye Ophelia! See you later!"
"Bye Meg!" I rushed down the cafe's steps to my parents black BMW.
I reached over for the car's door handle. Excited to be surrounded by warmth. When I got into the back seat, I snuggled into the soaking sweater, desperate for warmth. The fresh, sweet smell of home swirling in the air like musky bonfire smoke on a summer's night. I looked over to my mom in the front passenger seat and my to dad in the driver's seat. Both still in work clothes, they were both agents for the government. They weren't the kind that went undercover, but they guided those who did threw an ear chip and discovered juicy and useful info on evil villains. The agency was where they had met.
"Hey mom, hey dad."
"Hey hon, hows it going?" My dads nice, normal american accent asked. My dad had been born in Seattle, Washington, USA, my mom London, England, and I was born a boring Canadian girl without any interesting accent in the small and unknown town, Brentwood.
"Uh, pretty good, I guess. You?"
"Same old same old." Thats my dad all right, always the same. My dad started up the car and was on the main road in seconds. After a few short minutes on the main road the car turned off to a small little road which us, and only a few others, lived on. We were the house at the very end, directly at the end, facing the road when you had started the ending, straight stretch. The long road was much like a long driveway. The only thing you could see was green woods and the few gravel driveways that left a little opening on the road. It was like the outside world didn't exist. I loved it. The road was only big enough for the one car going the one way, two cars would of been impossible, but it was all the homey little road needed. I stared out into the woods, for once they were silent and somewhat eery looking. Normally I'm not afraid of anything, adventure, action, vampires and werewolves being my obsession, I believed, completely believed, but wasn't afraid of, but loved it, enjoyed the unfrequent fear, an odd and sickening rush. But for the first time ever the woods sent a wash of panic, of despair threw me. I could feel it, something wasn't right. The woods whizzed by, faster and faster which was extremely strange for my safe good old dad to do. It frightened me, not the good kind, but the bad kind.
A giant thing, something that was so fast I couldn't even make out any sort of figure, dived for the hood of the car. Crushing my parents, sending the car spiraling across the road, the same thing hit us viscously on our side, then our other, then finally our back. The crushing strength, the giant pressure sent me flying threw our cracked and chattered wind shield, shards of glass biting threw my flesh with razor sharp fangs.
I felt my limp and useless body fall to the ground, rolling into the middle of the road. The pain was so much that it was numb. Similar to when the water is so cold on your skin, it burns with pain. Pain shot threw me, up and down, everywhere, places I didn't know could feel so much pain. Pinching, screaming, cursing,pericing, burning, numbing, painful pain. My brain blanked, trying to block everything out, I tried to fight the swallowing darkness that tempted me with nothingness, death, and end. Screeching tries, a one and only person screaming, while another shouted, killing my ears, but the loudest and most ear screeching things were the unbearably soft, gentle and calm of the leaves fluttering in the wind, brushing against the pavement, and the pitter patter of the rain falling around me. I just laid there on the road, alone and useless, cold and lonely, dreading, but welcoming the numbness of an end.
I awoke for god knows how long after the attack, still limp on the road. Completely motionless, like a broken doll on the smooth pavement. The rain pounding harder and harder on my sore flesh. Sending pains that felt like people were throwing little sharp rocks at me with great speed and strength from a short distance. My eyes fluttered open, It took all my strength and willpower I had to get the pale, thin eyelids open long enough for me to make sense of what was going on. I had no memory but the pain as proof. Three tall figures dressed in black stood over me, I was confused it was my funeral, watching, talking to each other in loud, deep voices that were unbearably unfamiliar. They were oblivious to the fact I was watching with all my might, they just kept talking while I laid there. Arms crossed infront of their chests. I couldn't make out the simple words they spoke, but they sent waves of dread threw me. Before I closed my eyes and allow the ignorance, the darkness once again inhale me, the man on the left side laughed, with evil, thirsty eyes.