BATTERIES 01

"All growing up means is that you realize no one will come along to fix things. No one will come along to save you."

I used to believe that magic didn't exist, that the demons creeping out of the shadows at night weren't really there; that they were just figments of my overactive imagination. That the faeries I'd seen dancing in the forest, the moonlight illuminating their bodies; making them seem like angels and demons all at once were just the trees gliding in the wind. If someone had told me that such beings existed, back then I wouldn't have even considered the idea.

But now, after I'd met the boy with the jet black eyes and the almost inhuman grace, I'm not so sure.

He told us that he'd ended up that way from a drug problem he had over summer, that his unnaturally pale skin was merely a side effect of the vast amount of drugs he'd taken. The entire school believed him too, though I didn't.

I could always sense something that was off, like prey sensing a nearby predator and, despite his warm gaze and almost-perfect attitude; he was the predator. And from the way he would sometimes look at me, I was the prey.

It was my first day of my school, the one event that I'd been dreading for the entire summer. It wasn't that I was scared that I'd be sat alone at lunch, picking apart whatever crap the school had served that day – I'd made friends with some kids who lived down the street from me in the summer. It wasn't that I was scared that the so-called popular kids would pick on me either, I was the type that they normally didn't even bother with; I was the type who sat on the sidelines, looking in through the glass – a wallflower. But for the first few days I wouldn't be, at the start of each new lesson I'd have to endure standing at the front of the class and if the teacher's feeling particularly mean, I'd have to introduce myself too, and have all those piercing eyes of my new classmates on me. That's what I was dreading.

Thankfully, the day had seemed to glide by with an ease I hadn't expected; so far no teachers had made me introduce myself and I only had one more lesson to go with some teacher called Mr Richardson, who –according to Emily with the almost yellow eyes – was a hot daumn and wouldn't force me to make an idiot of myself. But that's exactly what he did.

I stepped into the classroom - I was about ten minutes due to some senior pointing me in the completely opposite direction – and like a flicker of light, thirty pairs on eyes snapped up and rested on me. I could feel their piercing eyes on me like daggers, I could feel them analysing me, and I could see girls laughing behind their hands, and I could taste their bitterness and hear their cruel whispers. I feel the colour rushing to my face as I mutter a nervous hello and rush to my seat, almost tripping over someone's outstretched leg. I'd promised myself I would leave behind the shy, nervous girl and bring forward the new, confident Lesley. So much for that.

Even though I'm sat at the back of the class and Mr Richardson is covering a topic we 'desperately need to know' I can still feel some of their eyes on me. I say feel because I daren't look up, I keep my eyes focused down at my new orange work book that rested on the graffitied desk; too scared to look up for the fear of catching someone's gaze. I don't listen to what Mr Richardson is saying, but I write anyways, pretending to take notes. I do not want to look up.

The final bell of the day screeches, causing almost the whole class to cup their hands over their ears. Emily told me they had installed a new bell system and hadn't quite got it working perfectly because some guy named Eric had wrecked the old one.

I slide book into my bag, still not daring to look up.

"Hey pretty thing." I flinch at the sound of the voice and slowly pull my eyes from my bag. A boy with startling green eyes that aren't quite warm nor welcoming is staring at me curiously. And he most certainly isn't staring at my face. "Names Eric." He pauses as if trying to add suspense. "Please let me have the pleasure of buying you a coffee." He still isn't looking at my face.

I stand there, unable to even slide my orange book in my bag. I say nothing.

He's talking to me, muttering compliments that I should find offensive, but I just stand there saying nothing –I don't even plaster a fake smile on my face or call him several colourful names.

A hand clamps on Eric's shoulder, "Dude, leave the poor girl alone."

My eyes dart to the boy standing slightly behind Eric. He was beautiful; there was no doubting that - with his dark eyes and careless brown hair curling just above his ears. He's wearing a grey iron maiden band shirt which just contrasts heavily against his pale skin and though he doesn't seem to be muscled there is an air about him that tells you he is quite strong.

The boy throws me a sympathetic look; I just look down and bite my lip in return. "Anyway, you have a girlfriend, remember?" He raises his eyebrows at Eric and chuckles, which oddly sends a chill up my spine.

And then I realise. His beauty is terrible, like that of the dancing faeries in the moonlight. And even though he's gazing at me with warm and welcome eyes, he scares me more than Eric. He sends alarm bells off in my head. He makes me want to run from this school and never come back. I notice that I still haven't slid my orange book into my bag and that instead I clutch it, holding it close to my chest as if to protect me.

When neither me nor Eric replies; Eric clearly embarrassed with an edge of annoyance from the boy's remark, and me merely stood there, clutching my book like a deer in headlights. The boy flashes a crooked smile and mutters an apology on Eric's behalf and before I know it; he's dragging Eric through the door of the classroom, leaving me alone.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, though I do not put my orange book in it, I still clutch it, afraid to let go, afraid of that boy's terrible beauty, afraid of the haunting memories he brings back, afraid of the secrets he obviously holds.

By the time I'm in the parking lot most of the students have already gone home, a few linger smoking and talking, others still kissing and saying goodbye, some waiting for another, just like Tyler is waiting for me, crap.

He's leaning against his blue truck, blonde hair tumbling over his ears; his icy blue eyes are cast to the ground and his arms are folded around his chest. As I edge closer to the car, I hear Fall Out Boy blasting out from inside - he always listens to them when he's pissed off. I run over to him as fast as my feeble legs can carry me, shouting apologies, but he's already seen me and is climbing inside. So I pull open the door and slide inside as fast as possible, I'm sure he would happily speed off without me, but I do not want to lose my ride.

And the split second I'm in; he's already speeding off, away from the school. I steal glance over at him; he's focused on the road but I can tell that if he didn't need to he would be glaring at me. I don't look at him as I put my seat belt on.

"Where the hell have you been Lesley?" He thunders as his eyes briefly flash yellow, but just as soon as the hue appeared, it had gone. I sigh; it must've been a trick of light. Tyler reaches to turn the music down so I can hear him properly, but there's no point, I can hear him clear as day. "You know I have to go visit my father before the poetry reading, and I can't be late for either of them!"

"I'm sorry." I say in a small voice. "I really am." I bite my lip, not sure what else to say.

And then we sit the rest of the journey in silence, I keep myself busy by finally putting my orange book in my bag, there's nothing to be scared of here, with Tyler, I watch as we speed by the houses, all of the colours blending together in my eyes.

Before I know it, we're outside my apartment block.

"Thanks for the ride." I mutter, getting out of the car, still not daring to look at him. "I hope your dad is ok."

"It's fine Lesley, really. I'm sorry." He presses a finger to his lips, and then I know that means he's calmed down. "Just come with me tonight, to the poetry reading. Please?"

I bite my lip.

"I really need you, what with my Dad being in hospital and all. Plus Em's busy and I don't think I can make it through one hour of Eric's poetry alone."

I sigh. "Ok."

"Thanks, pick you up at 7?"

I nod and watch as he smiles and drives away.

When Tyler and I arrive the coffee shop is almost empty, I recognise a few kids from school dotted around the room, the vast majority of then talking over steaming coffee. I see the boy from earlier talking in a hushed tone with two girls, one with fiery red hair, the other with midnight black hair whisking down her back and a boy with hair too blonde to be natural. They are all very beautiful, but not in the same way as the boy, not in a way that sends chills up my spine.

Tyler tugs on my jacket and I realise I had been staring but thankfully the boy hadn't seemed to notice. I try not to look at him as Tyler guides me to our seats.

"Who's that?" I ask, gesturing to the boy as I drop my tattered bag to the floor and sit down.

Tyler's icy blue eyes glance at the boy for a moment, he mutters something too low for my ears to hear and glances back at me, a scowl imprinted upon his features. His eyes, however, are unreadable. "Of course you'd notice him," he grunts, and jerks his head in the boy's direction, "that's Simon Lewis, you don't want anything to do with him. Messed up, he is."

I rest my chin on my hand, "I guess. He looks awfully pale."

Tyler smirks. "He had a drug problem over the summer, yet you'd think that would put girls off of him, right? It seems to have made him more attractive to them."

"He scares me in all honesty."

"Really?" Tyler's grin widens.

"Ahuh."

"You want a drink on me Lesley? It's not often I find a girl who isn't drooling over him."

Ignoring the way Tyler says him as if it's poison, I ask for a Summer Berries smoothie, even though it is rather chilly outside.

When he disappears I sit and watch the people I recognise from my school, laughing over their coffee and then I look over to the Simon, with his hushed conversation and his hand wrapped around a hot chocolate I know he will never drink. I can't help but feel sorry for him, for some reason or other he couldn't be as happy as careless as the others, that something deep down inside of him was very, very wrong and I could see the hurt in his eyes. In that moment I wanted to go over and tell him that it's going to be ok. In that moment I forget all the fear he'd given to me. I just want him to be ok.

I watch as the blonde boy places his arm around the redhead and they share a kiss, I watch as the boy's expression falters, as the hurt glides to his face, but in the blink of an eye, it's gone again and replaced by a bemused look. The dark-haired girl is rolling her eyes, rubbing her hand up and down the boy's shoulder. She is leaning in, he tenses up. She inches closer...

"ONE GRANDE SUMMER FRUITS SMOOTHIE!" Tyler shouts, banging the smoothie down on the dimly lit table. I jerk upwards, almost knocking the table and the smoothie over.

Good one, Lesley.


Author's Note.

Now for those of you who have read Figments, this chapter has remained virtually the same, next chapter will be quite different. Please review and let me know what you guys think!