Chapter 1: Nightmares and wandering eyes
Cold. Cold was all I felt and the only object my sight could comprehend was an empty abyss of darkness.
"Hello, anyone here?" I yelled into the dark void. The only feedback I received was my own booming echo. I brought my hands towards my face and the darkness was so thick that I absolutely had no sight, not even enough to see my own hands mere millimeters away from my face. I couldn't see but I could feel. I only felt cold and the temperature felt like it was decreasing. What is this? Soon, my body started feeling as if it were freezing, the freeze was slowly growing, encasing my limbs, biting at my skin and leaving stinging trails behind. I went to grab my arms to hold myself still as the ice seeped through and invaded my insides, reaching to my core, a never ending freeze.
"Ahh," I screamed as my own flesh fused my own hold upon myself as the freeze enveloped my whole being. What the hell is wrong with me? The cold started to grow and beat against my being, trying to escape me, but had nowhere to go. It felt as if it were pushing against my flesh, cracking against the pressure. Then, I finally saw something else in the abyss. All of a sudden, an array of blinding white light lit up the area, leaving me screaming in agony. I stared down upon myself; tiny icy blue and white particles floated around me and escaped through the cracks in my flesh. The light is coming from me! It's coming from me! The particles shattering through my flesh erupted a maddening pain within me. "Make it stop, make it stop," I screeched and this time I couldn't even hear myself; only the shattering echoes from the particles escaping me into the abyss and my ear splitting screams.
"Jack! Wake your lazy ass up," my foster father yelled making me wake with a jolt. My whole body felt freezing, my skin looked as pale as snow, and the tips of my fingers held a blue-ish tinge. Hey, at least my whole body isn't frozen over and I'm not a human ice sculpture. Lately, I have been having this reoccurring dream where I'm alone with the darkness and I just turn to ice and shatter… I can deal with nightmares as this isn't the only reoccurring one I've had, but this one… the pain I experience feels real as if I can really feel it through my very core.
Pushing that thought aside, I went to the shower, wanting to obtain some sort of heat after being left in a cold sweat and endless shivers cascading down my spine.
"Strange," I mumbled to myself. I kept playing with the knob, changing the water temperature as hot as possible. I can see the steam evaporating into the air but as soon as the droplets hit my body, the coldness left in my body seemed to push and grow to my flesh, making the water feel lukewarm at best. Must be something wrong with the pipes?
Once I was finished, I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt and my signature hoodie. The wintry sky blue color and the snowflakes littered about upon the fabric always managed to make me feel comfortable and the plush fabric has always soothed me, it reminds me of what was…
I quickly raced down the steps and met surprisingly face to face with my foster parents as they sat at the kitchen table. Usually, they are mucking about and preparing to go to work, and also keeping a suspicious leering eye upon me. Not today though. There they sat. He your typical male in his late forties, a towering build with a slightly bulbous gut due to letting go and rich brown graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard that held a deep scowl engraved upon his face. He stared down upon a newspaper in one hand, a mug in the other, while she still held her wiry frame but her long graying hair and the deep crow's feet at the edges of her eyes suggest the joyous years she had once had but those days had ran away once age caught up with her. Her sight wavered from one object, to another, to the eggshell hues of the peeling wallpaper, to the sink filled with the dirty dishes covered in grime and residue from former meals that she'll have me take care of later. Those wandering eyes never landed upon me though.
"Well uh, you're here for once," I said to them in a questioning tone, as my voice had pitched a few octaves higher in confusion. Great way to great your foster parents Jack! They already find you to be a pain, why don't you just continue shoveling your won grave?
He still held his gaze upon his newspaper, gaze shuffling about upon it as he said," Our son Kozmo will be coming home today," his tone firm, unwavering.
"Okay?" I replied in confusion. What does this mean for me? He still starred upon his newspaper, while she wrung her hands together and held her gaze upon her husband.
Kozmo and I haven't interacted much. He's older than me by at least ten years and has some sort of fancy important government job in D.C. and only comes here on holidays. Whenever he is home I try to keep my distance as far away from him as I can as the guy is honestly just has a weird vibe exuding from him, but his parents love him and obsess over him so I'm ignored and completely forgot about whenever he's home, which is a huge plus in my books.
I shifted my gaze upon the clock behind them and saw the hands inching their way closer and closer to the first school bell. "If that's all…" I trailed off as I inched my way towards the door before the same gruff voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Kozmo will pick you up from school later. We think you two should spend some time together, that he'll be a good influence." He looked so pleased as his gaze finally shifted upon me for a brief second to catch the shocked expression I now held, my mouth agape. I swear I can see at least a little up turned corner of his mouth that somewhat resembled a smile. Either that or its gas. I'm guessing the latter. He never smiles at me.
Please no,"Nope. It's cool, tell him no. I like walking home and to school," I said, making a dash for the door.
Before my left foot could even touch pavement, a quiet, wavering voice stopped me in my tracks, "shoes," she said. Shoes? I looked down and yup! No shoes. Heh whoops. I did it again. I quickly back track and slip on my icy blue high tops and then began my walk to school. I hate shoes, socks, anything that confines feet really. Feet need to breathe and live too! Shoes and socks keep the poor devils locked up in a prison of their own sweating heat for most of the day. What feet would give to only feel the cool hard ground beneath them, to feel every little groove and nook. Also to feel the smooth, tickling, moist grass upon their pads or between their toes. Personally I'd give up everything to feel the life around me, to feel alive. Instead my feet are confined in comparison to my similar predicament of imprisonment to spend time with my foster parent's son. They think I'm going nowhere, that I have no plan for my future and so they want their perfect son to teach me a life lesson or two. As if they actually care about me, they just want money from the government and to create a good impression. I just want to live and be free. They think I'm naïve and delusional and that I know nothing of the real world. But what do they know? Have they ever had everything taken from them in the blink of an eye? I don't think so.
Before I knew it, the familiar ugly stone building came into view. I quickly made my way to where my best and just about only friend Jamie usually waited in the morning. I spotted his familiar head of brown hair dug into his locker, his back completely exposed. What a perfect opportunity. Quietly, I sneaked up behind him and, "Boo!" I yelled into his ear.
"Ahh!" He screamed and jumped around to face the intruder, me. "What the fuck Jack," he grumbled but a smile slowly inched its way upon his lips, his eyes wide.
My lips twitched in an amused smirk, "Well Jamie boy, it's not my fault you left yourself completely exposed," I explained to him.
He merely raised his brow and rolled his eyes as he replied, "Well most people aren't insane pranking lunatics like you," he told me.
My smirk grew into a wide smile and I took a bow,"Why thank you but don't be acting so innocent yourself Jamie boy! You can be just as bad as me, but of course never better, everyone knows I'm the kind of pranks and fun," I replied and held my toothy grin. That's mostly sarcasm though; most people around here don't actually quite seem to know me and just downright ignore me. At least I can easily get away with my little antics this way and I always have at least one audience member, Jamie and his one laugh is all I need.
He only laughed and then asked," So how have things been?" His voice grew quiet as he asked. Ever since I've been going to this school, Jamie has been the only real friend I've met. Most here just keep to themselves or to all of the cliques they've grown up in within this small town that there's not really any room for someone new. That's okay though because Jamie is the only person I can truly trust and he's the only student here who knows of my foster life.
I groaned and told him, "Their son is coming home for a bit and they want him to help me sort out my future or whatever."
"That really sucks. My mom keeps pressuring me into choosing what colleges I want to go to and all of that junk and she means well, but it puts a lot of pressure on people, thinking about the future," He said reassuring me as he patted me on the shoulder.
I sighed and Jamie continued to look at me with the same wide, understanding eyes. I know discussing one's future is essential when you're a senior in high school but this kind of discussion always places a weight upon my shoulders, dragging my feet along the ground when I'm usually practically floating my way through life.
"In other news, apparently there's some new guy in our year, an exchange student of some sorts," Jamie explained. Jamie always knows how to lift my spirits. The weight evaporated and I once again felt that familiar floating through life feeling.
"Really? That's new. Where'd he come from?" I asked him, eager to pry any other details.
"I-," the bell rang, signaling first period and interrupting Jamie. "Well, see you later," Jamie said with his signature goofy grin. I gave a toothy smile in return as he retreated in the opposite direction to his class.
I groaned as I dragged myself to class. Ugh time for another nap inducing lecture.
Once I entered my first period class, biology, I quickly settled upon my assigned desk, waving and saying my few share of greetings to the other students in order to rile them up enough to see if I'll get a response, I usually don't. I aimlessly tried to join in on nearby students conversations but most just ignored my input before class begun. Soon, Ms. Withers cleared her throat and stared us down with her beady gaze, waiting for our attention to begin the class. Before she could begin, there was a knock upon the door. Probably just a late student. Ms. Withers made her way to the knock and opened the door, her expression turned to one of confusion as her brows furrowed upon the person standing before her.
"Come in," she told the person and a rather tall but lean boy stepped into the classroom. His auburn hair was in an unkempt shaggy mess that looked as if it was just blown by the wind and reached a bit past the nape of his neck and two tiny braids were braided beneath his right ear. His forest green eyes gleamed in the light, the splash of freckles that littered upon his cheeks were slightly noticeable due to the contrast of his pale skin. His thin pale pink lips stretched as the corner of his mouth curved upwards. He wore baggy jeans, a green t-shirt with a plaid gray and black open button up shirt and he wore black combat boots upon his feet.
"Uh, this is biology period one with Ms. Withers, correct?" The boy asked, his voice soothing yet nasally, like a paved gravel road. He tilted his head and fixed his gaze upon Ms. Withers.
Ms. Withers moved towards her desk and seemed to be looking upon something. "Ah yes! That's right, we have a new student," she said while addressing us, the class. She then turned her gaze upon the teen. He had a worn brown leather satchel upon his shoulder, crossing over his chest and resting upon his left side. He gripped the strap upon his chest, while looking at Ms. Withers, waiting.
` "You must be… Hiccup," she asked the teen, her voice wavering in what appears to be confusion. Is this dudes name seriously Hiccup? Now that sounds like a… Hiccup! Hah! Ah, if only Jamie were here to hear my awesome word play. I smirked as I continued to watch this situation unfold.
"Yup, that's the name. No mistakes I reassure you that my name is indeed Hiccup," he explained to her. His lips formed an awkward closed lip smile directed towards her. He's probably used to the confusion by now living with a name like that.
"Yes of course. Please take the empty seat over there please," she told him while pointing upon the empty desk a few away from my own. He nodded in response and made his way to his desk. As he walked past me, I could see a flash of some sort of intricate ink design upon his satchel, but the image left me as quickly as he did. Wonder what that was? Looked pretty cool form the glimpse I caught.
"Now class will begin," Ms. Withers announced. I kept my gaze upon her but lost interest pretty quickly and instead switched my gaze upon the new kid. He seemed to be focusing on the lesson pretty intensely as he chewed on the end of a pencil and kept his gaze glued on the board. From his profile, you can tell how his jaw is more strong and squared rather than angled and how rounded the tip of his nose is. My gaze fell lower and now I could see the intricate design upon his bag. It appeared to be a logo of a dragon curled upon itself, its wings unfurled. Huh, that's pretty cool. Wonder where he came from?
"Mr. Frost, could you please answer my question?" Um what? Shit. My head snapped forward and faced Ms. Withers. Her brow was furrowed and her hands where positioned on her hips. Uh oh she must mean business.
"What was the question again?" I asked with a cheeky grin.
She sighed and replied," What is an adaptation?" she questioned.
Think! We went over this entire DNA, survival of the fittest, adaptation biology mumbo jumbo the other day Jack! I searched through the recesses of my memory in search of some sort of decent answer. "Isn't adaptation when an organism develops a new trait to survive?" I replied the answer questioningly.
She didn't stop furrowing her brow but her features did seem to lighten a little before she replied," that's not completely incorrect. Now can someone please tell me the exact scientific definition and you know, you can actually be using your notes," she told the class but that last part seemed to be directed specifically towards me. Oh yeah right. Notes are a thing… I quickly grabbed my notes out of my bag and placed them upon my desk.
It still didn't seem as if anyone wanted to answer as she scanned the room for any possible victims until the new kid raised his hand. "An adaptation is a change or a process of change in which an organism or species becomes better suited to its environment," he stated, his voice never wavering and completely full of confidence. The weird thing though, it seems as if someone were staring at me the whole time Hiccup gave his definition. I turned my gaze and there he was, the new kid had his gaze directly upon me. Alright I didn't get it perfect but you did, so what?
The class continued as normal but throughout the whole class it seemed as if eyes were glued to me and I couldn't shake the feeling that someone kept watching me.
Throughout the day, I learned that Hiccup actually has quite a lot of classes with me except for two of them. In every single class we had together, I could feel the burning gaze of someone's eyes upon me. I swear it's him but he never interacted or really said a word to anyone but the teachers. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Either way, he seems pretty interesting… Maybe he won't ignore me like everyone else.
As school came to an end, I met up with Jamie and together we made our way out front of the school building. We began our walk home but before I could get a word in and tell him about the new kid, a black Toyota started beeping and driving right next to us. It must be him.
I sighed and said," That's Kosmo, I'll talk to you later okay.' Jamie nodded and waved goodbye as I got into the car.
And there he was. The extremely tall and lanky stick of an extremely ghoulish pale son my foster parents have. His sharp angles could cut like a knife. His hair as black as a crow feather. From his profile I could see his lips slowly stretch and become a wide jeer of a grin. Once we made it to a stop, he finally turned to look at me, I stared to talk to finally break this eerie silence, but before I could, darkness enveloped my sight and surroundings.