Author note: Hey, just to warn you InuYasha and the gang dont show up in the first two chapters but bear with me, i guarantee they will make a appearance and though their older their no wiser than before XD enjoy.
You kidding Sparky? (Rosalie)
Heart pounding, body shaking and breaking out in a cold sweat. Something people never get to experience, but me? It was every morning before I remembered- I was fine. No longer do I have to wake up expecting the usual torture. I tried to roll over but my body clenched so hard the newly stitched wound on my back screamed in protests so loud I was positive that you could hear it next door. I silently groaned as I forced my detesting body to roll out of the half charcoaled sofa. Slowly, as if hoping it was all just a dream, I opened my eyes. My gaze was met with burned walls and fallen in ceilings. No dream. It was real. My eyes flew to where a black object which was slumped against what was left of the wall. It was almost completely black, scorched, with some pale patches, as though some careless person just splattered white paint onto it. Even now, I couldn't help the grim satisfied smirk from forming on my chapped bleeding lips. But the smirk gave a sharp twist into an almost inhuman snarl.
I got up, unsteadily, onto my feet. I had to leave. Soon. I rushed as fast as I could, my surroundings spinning as though on a fair ride, grabbing my leather backpack, and ran up the wrecked stairs. I staggered into what used to be my room, but now was a blackened hollowed out, floor caved in with only a line around of the edge which was questionably walk-able on, forgotten room. Treading carefully, I circled over to what was left of the wardrobe, grabbed a handful of clothes which were mercilessly salvaged from the fires and stuffed them into the bag. I was about to spin and walk out but the still functional part of my brain reminded me that you couldn't go anywhere without a particular thing. I rummaged through the back of the closet, my fingers brushing along the slightly splintered wood. I gripped the shard and yanked it backwards to reveal the hollowed out compartment I'd made a few years ago. Inside lay my pink, which was the only damn colour left, metal money safe. I patted my pockets relieved when my hand swiftly slipped out the small metal object I constantly carry. I still cursed myself about loosing the damn key for the box but keeping my favourite pocket knife around was extremely useful. I gently, almost lovingly, stroked my thumb over the blue thumb sized plate, activating it. The nine inched blade sprung up glinting at its sudden release. Placing it against the latch I twisted and turned it till I heard a metal click, and with a small smirk I opened the box to reveal a small roll of twenties neatly rolled into a rubber band. I slipped the roll into my back pocket before walking out of the room without a backwards glance. What good would it do to mope over leaving?
Once again I was downstairs, holding the door handle, and after everything I hesitated. Angrily, I stormed out of the door careful to not slam the door to an extent that the whole house would come crashing down. I began to walk off the steps but a young voice drew me to a stop, and looking up I saw Jack, the blocks paper boy, speeding down the street towards me. I opened my mouth and shouted back, my voice hoarse and dry as though I hadn't used it for years not for how ever long I was out for, "Jackie! Any mail?" The boys face turned into an angry expression.
"I told you, stop calling me Jackie! That's a girl's name," Jack screamed in rage. For a twelve year old he had some temper. Smirking I waved him over as I had a feeling that I shouldn't get off the steps just yet.
"Two minuets," I muttered as Jack rode closer, I quickly stepped inside the house, grabbing the lighter from the burned table. This was probably the only time I would thank, yet I wouldn't be able to stop the snide tint to my voice, him for continuously smoking. Walking, as if having all the time in the world, to the kitchen to grab the kitchen cleaner bottle with gasoline inside before walking back to the living room, and pouring the contents all over the charcoaled sofa. Lighting the red lighter I watched the flame flicker for a moment before flicking it onto the sofa which took to the blaze like a moth to a flame. I walked out of the door as though oblivious to the blazing fire behind me. I practically walked right into Jack. "Hey Jackie, could have at least stayed on the path instead of practically pushing your ear against my door." Jack grinned mischievously like a naughty child being caught with his hands glowing red.
"Here, I got to go, still got the whole street to do by nine," he called as he rushed off, tossing the mail at me. I nodded but didn't look up, my eyes where scanning the letters in front of me. Him. Him. Him… Me? Stuffing the other letters in my bag, I ripped into the envelope exposing the contents. It was a formal short letter.
Dear Miss Darwin,
I am pleased to tell you that you have been chosen to attend Skylight School of the Arts. We major in the arts though not the obvious kind. On your first day that will be further explained as it's not safe to speak of not even in writing. Being invited to attend this school is an honour and an opportunity that I would expect you not to pass up. This being the case there is no need for you to reply.
Skylight School of the Arts is a boarding school, and we highly discourage return trips during the holidays. This school is a year round school, therefore you would not return home for summer. If this is a problem, do not bother to come at all. At Skylight you will be expected to follow orders even if you are confused by what is being asked of you. You will not have any contact with anyone who was part of your life previously outside of direct family. There will be very high expectations that you are required to meet at all times. There shouldn't be any problems, on the rare accessions' of which pupils come yet do not follow as according in this letter they shall return home with a vague memory what had happened immediately.
Previous notifications about Skylight have not been mentioned as this school is significantly specialized compared to other schools.
We will be expecting you to be outside of Manchester Airport on March 2nd at precisely twelve o'clock. If you are late by any means, you will not attend this school. It will be assumed that you did not wish to attend this school; therefore we will leave without you. It is encouraged that you plan accordingly.
You are to bring on what you deem necessary, as essentials will be provided. Any other questions that you have will be answered upon your arrival. Once again, congratulations and I look forward to meeting you
Signed,
Ms Fernandez,
Ms Fernandez, Headmistress
A snarl twisted at my lips. Expected to follow orders? You freaking kidding me? I stood still thinking for a moment. I had nowhere else to go without getting stopped. Looked like I was screwed. Licking my lips, I began to reluctantly walk in the direction of the train station. Time passed but I paid no attention, but certain things sliced through to me, like a group of children laughing or adults arguing. By the time I got to the station it was drawing into the night. Pulling up my jacket sleeve revealing my black watch, looking at the small deil which told me what date it was. February 28th, 5:48pm. The train station looked battered and even in the daylight people usually avoided going by this train station but this was the closest one so there was no choice. Walking in, my eyes were met with total destruction. I was surprised this station was still running. What surprised me even more was that there was actually an attendant at the ticket desk. Treading carefully I approached the man which looked in his mid-sixties, but his appearance showed that he might as well be six feet under already. When I reached the window I spoke clearly encase his hearing was as dead as the rest of him.
"One ticket to Manchester, please." Even if he was a ghost on duty there's no reason to be rude. The old man seemed to be trying to move but all you could see was juddering and the sound of bones crunching together in the strain. I mentally took a step back, as if that would help. The man finally typed out the destination out onto the rusty computer, and he was now trying to pull out the ticket from the disintegrating brown box. The effort he had to put into the action made the brown box look like it was fighting back. The ticket came sliding out from under the window as if it was in a hurry to get out of the grubby room it had been held hostage in. I snatched it up before the draft could steal it away. I quickly gave the money, and then rushed towards the stairs leading down to the platform. If it was possible the platform was even more destroyed than the reception area. There was barely any room to stand on the platform as a few steps forward and you'd be plummeting towards the tracks. I looked at my ticket to see the train's time to arrive, 6:05pm, and the time now was 5:58pm. Seven minuets wait. I carefully sat down thinking how long it would take to get to Manchester. Well it's approximately 106 miles from here, so it should take about an hour and a half. I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. I'm going to a new school after a fire in the place I last was and I'm thinking logically? I imagined someone else in my place yet all I pictured was a girl crouching down in complete pieces having had a mental break down. The image almost makes me laugh. Clamping down on the urge, I tried to recall events before the, what I assume it was anyway, fire but came up blank. I should be at least able to remember my childhood right? It's not like I was born in the fire…
Trembling caused my thoughts to cut off short. Checking my watch it was 6:02. Oh, goody, the trains early. I think I should be applauding or at least bowing in such a pleasurable event happening to me.
Author notes: Hey people, this is my first fanfiction so I'd really appreciate help :D any comments would be helpful so i can improve. Please review. Thank you.