Hey guys, so this is my newest (and second attempt at) fanfiction. I love the TMI series(despite the name of the story, I have not read the Infernal Devices, but I promise, it's at the top of my to-be-read list) and I have had this idea in my head for awhile, and finally I have it posted on here. Please bear with me and any possible errors this may have since I don't have a beta. I don't know exactly how or where this story will go, but just a fair warning, there will be cursing and probably some adult-ish themes. You have been warned, enjoy!

High school is stupid.

The classes are pointless and boring, there's drama around every corner, and in the other corners, couples are practically deep-throating each other with their tongues. Oh, and did I mention that I have no friends? As if school isn't boring enough, factor in being friendless and it suddenly becomes ten times worse.

Of course I'm always taunted by the couples and cliques everyday. At least they have someone to talk to. Even the nerds and geeks find people to hang out with. But not me. I'm weird in a bad way, meaning everyone is unsure of me. Even if I am given a rare shot at friendship, my parents chase them away. It's as if they purposely want me to have no life. I am forbidden from joining any clubs, sports or activities. I can't go on any field trips or go to school events like dances or sports games. They keep saying it's for my own good and that they don't want me to end up in their situation-teen parents- but I'm not buying it. Who bans their child from participating in extracurricular activities and discourages making friends? I didn't realize that art club could get me pregnant.

To make matters worse, I have a curfew. It doesn't sound too unreasonable until you find out the hours in which it's effective. From 6pm to 7am, I am not to step foot outside without at least one parent by my side. Overprotective? A little.

I think about all of this as I make my way to the buses waiting in front of the school. Winter break is finally beginning though it's not like I can do anything exciting on my days off from school. At least I don't have to do any homework for the next two weeks.

Once I'm on the bus, I take my seat on an empty bench near the rear. The bus pulls out of the parking lot soon after, and finally I'm on my way home. A light snow has been falling, so there's at least an inch covering the ground and a lot more plowed on the sides of the road.

As I look through the window watching the snow fall, I pick up on bits and pieces of other students' conversations: "...going skiing" and "... hope I ... new phone" or "...best Christmas party ever." The two girls in the seat in front of me are chatting and giggling excitedly about some guy.

Why am I not surprised? I think to myself as I roll my eyes. I'm about to tune them out when I hear one of them mention the bus driver. This part of the conversation confuses me since our bus driver is ancient. It's incredible that he can even get up the steps of the bus, let alone be trusted enough to drive it on public streets while it is full of schoolkids.

When I look to the front of the bus, to my surprise, I see a head of nearly white hair. I must not have noticed the different face when I got on the bus earlier. Their hair is nearly the same, but whoever this substitute driver is has a tinge of bright blonde unlike the old gray-white of the original bus driver..

The bus pulls up to its first stop of the day and five people get up to leave. One down, four more to go until my stop. I lean my head back against the seat and turn toward the window as the bus begins moving again. The snow is falling harder. There's a considerable amount on the road now, but the snow plows predicted this and dumped salt all over the place. My breath fogs up the window, and soon the salted roads and passing scenery are clouded out.

I'm jolted awake by screaming, screeching, spinning, and countless other painfully loud noises. I didn't realize I drifted off to sleep, but now I'm wide awake. Looking out the window, all I see is the endless white snow before a crash and blinding white light invade my senses. Soon after, I feel a sharp pain in my head and everything turns from white to black.

Gentle hands probe my head, most likely for injuries, pushing my hair out of the way as they go. In my half-conscious state, a soft moan of pain passes my lips when one of the hands touches a tender spot behind my left ear. The touch sends a burning sensation through my skull like alcohol poured on an open wound, but my body is unresponsive and unable to scream. Soon, the pain dulls as my body is reclaimed into the dark emptiness of unconsciousness.

The peace of sleep does not last long. My eyes open in a pitch black land of nothingness. After sitting up, I look around frantically in search of something, anything, that might shine light on where I am.

A dull glow of orange peeks around a rock a few feet ahead. Carefully, I walk ontop of what feels like sand and small rocks until the source of light is right is front of me. On the back of the rock, a strange symbol (Greek? Egyptian? Russian?) burns brightly, as if on fire. From somewhere nearby, someone screams.

It's a scream of anguish and fear. The kind that pierces through your emotions and sends a wave of fear and adrenaline to every part of your body.

Suddenly, I'm lifted into a strong pair of arms. It is at this point in which I realize that I'm being carried. Not a dream. In real life. I open my eyes slowly. I'm still outside and the freshly fallen white snow blinds me to the point where I have to quickly shut my eyes. That's not the only thing that hurts though. Now that I have partially gained consciousness, I can feel a terrible throbbing in my head and a strange burning sensation on the inner part of my right wrist.

Whoever is carrying me is a guy. That much I can distinguish. The way he pants as he runs and the taught bulge of muscles carrying me as nothing more than a bag of air gives him away. I want to see who it is, but the brightness of the snow and the pounding in my head prohibit me from opening my eyes. I'm not sure what had happened to me, but apparently I hit my head hard because I soon pass out, trusting the person carrying me to get me to safety.

What the hell kind of nightmare is this?

I open my eyes and immediately shut them. There was some kind of deformed human standing over me. It resembled one of the ancient mummies that you see on documentaries about Egypt. The mouth appeared to be stitched shut and the eyes-or where the eyes should have been- were two hollow sockets. The skin was grossly pale and the creature was dressed in a simple parchment-colored robe.

I'm not sure why I'm dreaming of dead Egyptians, though it probably has something to do with the strange symbol on the rock in my dream. Now that I think about it, I remember glimpsing similar symbols on the mummy-thing's robes. I'd rather not look at its deformed face again, but my eyes yearn to see the scrawling lines of the foreign symbols.

Hesitantly, I open my eyes. The humanoid is no longer standing over me, but instead is standing at the foot of the bed. It's still being creepy and staring at me with its empty sockets, but at least it's not as close as before. It's current position gives me a wider perspective of my surroundings. Behind the creature is a long row of beds within a spacious room about the size of a small gymnasium. Everything is a crisp white and blinds my eyes in the same way that a fresh snowfall might. The overwhelming brightness makes me aware of the rhythmic pounding in my head. Closing my eyes dulls it a bit, but not by much.

A door creaks off to the left, so I pry open an eye to see who-or what-it is.

Mom? I think to myself as the worried look of my mother approaches to stand at my bedside. Too many questions are racing through my head, but despite my curiosity, I remain silent to give her the opportunity to explain what happened.

Either she doesn't notice my expecting expression or simply doesn't want to tell me, but my mother doesn't say a word. Instead, she takes my hand that isn't wrapped in gauze and looks at me as she starts to cry.

"Oh baby," Her gaze moves from my left ear where I can feel the injury throbbing down to meet my weary face and then seems to focus on a spot near the base of my throat. This brings on a new wave of tears from her. I give her a questioning look, but she's too busy crying to notice or answer. Warily, I open my mouth in an attempt to speak.

"Mom," My voice sounds foreign and raspy. Maybe I was screaming? "What happened?" This has at least caught her attention. "What are you looking at?"

With a choked back sob, she pulls out a pocket mirror from her snow-flaked coat and opens it. She aims it so that it reflects what is on my chest. Good question. What is that on my chest?

A/N

Well here it is! I hope you liked my attempt at an intro chapter, please leave a review as it will let me know that people actually care enough to leave their thoughts on it. Please no harsh comments, but criticism is definitely okay. I want to improve my writing, and any ideas you have for the story would also be great. Thank you for reading!

~.~Desiderium~.~