*This story belongs to AliceStarr & Ebayhaseverything*
Chapter one
"Go, now. Save the dying race."
I shot upright, wiping my damp forehead with the back of my hand. I had the dream again... the one I always had, and could never remember no matter how many hours I thought about it. It always ended with that same line, save the dying race.
I sat there pondering it a bit further, trying desperately to recall at least one other thing about it... without any luck. I shook my head, clearing the remainder of the dream from my mind; I had to get ready for school. I stood up groggily and turned to the digital clock on the side of my comfortable queen-sized bed, the flashing green numbers portraying 7:45.
"Shit!" I exclaimed, instantly forgetting my drowsiness and leaping to grab an outfit and pull it on. School started in 15 minutes and I still had to walk there.
"Which, of course, wouldn't be a problem if mom actually let me take the car once in while..." I grumbled, pulling a brush through my long chestnut hair, silently thanking the fact that my hair was naturally pin-straight, and didn't require any time for straightening it. I stepped back from the mirror to evaluate my appearance quickly.
I wore a black shirt that draped over one shoulder, and a pare of dark denim jeans, my hair swaying down past my hips, until it stopped short, almost to the back of my knees.
I gave myself another quick once-over before hurling myself into the bathroom and sticking my toothbrush under the tap, coating it with crest mint toothpaste. I brushed my teeth while packing my math textbook and homework sheets into my backpack, then rushed back into the bathroom and applied my makeup quickly.
With barely enough time to sit down, I pulled my dark blue Chuck Taylor converse on and practically flew out the door, looking backwards to make sure the door shut completely. Then I was down the street, racing to school.
I heard the bell ring as soon as I entered the red and brown bricked building, praying that my 1st class English teacher, Mrs. Montgomery, was running late. I slipped my bag and books into my locker, yanking out my English binder and a pen. I shut my locker and spun the dial, noticing a flash of purple as my wrist turned.
Confused, I held up my right arm and saw in dismay a tattoo of wings inked into the inside of my wrist.
"When did I..." I trailed off, walking to my classroom with slow, stiff, steps, barely noticing when someone called out my name.
"Iris! Stop staring into space and get over here!" I looked up, dumbfounded, and saw Zak waving me over. His black hair was gleaming, its ends curling slightly, with his sharp cobalt eyes peeking out from under his bangs.
I took the seat next to him, just as Mrs. Montgomery strut through the door. Her beady eyes did a quick scan over the rim of her black glasses, staring at each student in the classroom. Her dainty hand smoothed down the top of her head, making sure none of the mahogany strands has left her tight chignon.
"I want all of you to resume working on your essays, they are to be returned to me by the end of next class." Mrs. Montgomery commanded in a quiet, clipped voice. She turned around and started scrawling the date on the chalkboard with an elegant script. I snuck a glance down at my wrist again. yep, it's still there... Zak noticed my gaze and saw the tattoo, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.
"I have no idea where it came from, so don't even bother asking, okay?" I whispered, hoping our strict teacher wouldn't hear me.
"You don't remember? God Iris, how drunk can one person get ?" I knew he was teasing, but it didn't help at all. I glared up at him and smacked his arm, ignoring how he played with his silver lip ring, trying not to laugh at my measly strength.
"I don't drink, you know that." I hissed under my breath, pretending to be working on my essay, when instead I was doodling a pair of cartoon wings, replicating the mysterious tattoo on my arm.
"Iris, you know I was kidding. So what happened exactly? Did you fall asleep and it was just there or did you fall asleep at Chandra's place?" I was startled by his accusation that Chandra, my other best friend besides Zak, would actually have the nerve to give me a tattoo while I slept.
"No, I didn't fall asleep at Chandra's," I scoffed, keeping an eye on the teacher, who sat at her desk reading a magazine she undoubtedly took from one of the students, "and besides, I think I would wake up if somebody decided to pierce my skin repeatedly with a needle." Zak rolled his eyes, and then started to work on the assignment. I sighed, knowing the matter was dropped, and fixed my eyes down on the lined sheet of paper that sat on the desk in front of me, not wanting to do any work at all.
"So how was school?" Chandra asked, piling up the stacks of cashmere sweaters while I straightened up the jeans.
"It was a long day, and boring too. I can't believe you aren't in any of my classes until next semester." I complained, finished with the jeans and turning as a person called out to me.
"Excuse me, but do you have these jeans in a size 4?" I took the size 3 light wash jeans from her and matched it to a bigger size, handing it to her with a smile.
"Here you go. These would go perfectly with one of those tank tops over there, and they're 50% off today." She smiled and thanked me, taking my advice and purchasing the jeans and a green shirt I had pointed to. I turned back to my friend, sweeping my hair back in a ponytail. Chandra eyed me in amusement.
"You know Iris, you would look great with short hair." She suggested, subtly telling me I should chop 6 years off hard work off my head.
"No way, you know how long it took me to grow it out this long." I protested, my voice rising. A couple people glanced our way, but most were too busy inspecting the materials hanging on the racks to be bothered with two annoying employees.
"Jeez Iris, calm down. No need to get so defensive." she murmured, pulling all sorts of misplaced multicoloured fabric and putting them in their rightful place. I muttered a quick, insincere apology to my overreaction. I jumped at a tap on my shoulder, turning around and grinning sheepishly at my boss, Chris.
"You girls are free to go home, Talia and Keagan came in early and said they would take the rest of your shifts." He winked at us, handing us our weekly paychecks.
"Thanks Chris!" I grinned up at him, hating that I was so short compared to everyone else. Of course, Chris Jenkin wasn't particularly short, and he was at least 10 years older than me. Chandra and I walked out of the store, thanking Talia and Keagan when we saw them. Talia just waved, a shy smile on her lips. However Keagan waved and called out a loud goodbye, unconcerned with everyone who stared at him.
I laughed and called out a goodbye back to him, Chandra grinning and waving back at Talia. When we got out of the clothes store we worked at, I said goodbye to Chandra.
"Are you sure you want to walk home now?" She questioned nervously, glancing around her and taking in the dark of the night.
"Yeah, it's not like I haven't walked home alone after a shift before."
"Well, yeah. But that was during the day. It's now..." She checked her cell phone, "11:09. There are a lot of muggers and rapists around here Iris, and no offense, but you look like a number one victim." Chandra gazed down at me, ignoring the look of fury I was giving her.
"I'm not that short Chandra, and I can look after myself, thanks." I was starting to get irritated. How come nobody thinks I can take care of myself? There's a maximum of 2% that I could get raped or mugged tonight, and i'm fine with those odds.
"I know... just be careful okay?" She gave me a hug and left, glancing back at me every couple steps. I sighed and turned, walking down the road to my house.
I hadn't gone very far before there was the sound of footsteps behind me, making me stiffen, wrapping my coat tighter around me and walking a little faster, trying to calm down. two percent, two percent, two percent... I repeated my mantra in my head until I finally got the nerve to look behind me and see if I was being followed. It was only a woman, pulling out her cell phone to call somebody as she crossed the street. I let out a breath, realizing just then that I had been holding it in.
Look at you... all scared like Chandra was. Come on Iris, pull yourself together! I thought angrily, speeding up again, unable to forget about the feeling of terror in my stomach. I couldn't help letting out a screech when there was the sound of garbage bags tipping over. It's probably just a stray dog, forget about it Iris, your house is just past this building.
I was nearing the turn that would lead me to my street, when there was a cry that pierced the night air. I turned to where the sound had came from, an alley.
Well, this looks sketchy. Where have I seen this before? Oh, right... in almost every single horror movie that was ever created.
Ignoring my thoughts, which weren't helping me work up the courage to investigate the source of the shriek, I looked around, not seeing anybody within hearing range besides me that heard the noise. I blew out a breath and walked into the alley.
"Hello?" I whispered, "Is there anybody there?" I took a small step forward, straining my eyes to see something, anything that could have made that tortured cry. Before I could take another step forward, a gloved hand grasped onto my arm, and a hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my scream.
My attacker threw me into the alley, my back hitting a dumpster with a jarring thud. I grimaced, kneeling on the floor in pain, and waited for the next blow. As I saw the arm draw back, I kicked out with my leg, striking them in the knee and rolling away from them, standing up on unsteady legs.
"Lucky shot." I assumed it was a female, because of the slim figure and the voice as she hissed those two words at me.
"Yeah, well i'm known to be full of luck." Though my voice was steady, I was terrified. This person was obviously not some drunk mugger, and from the glint of silver on her waist I assumed she had some pretty lethal weapons.
I wasn't going to be able to last very much longer, and that was a heck of a lot more than a 2% chance.