So Cold .
The sound pierced the air.
The rustling leaves of the tress. A distant sound now.
It hit. The sound. But sounds don't hit. Or do they?
Falling. Blood. Blood. So much blood.
Eyes, there everywhere.
There should be screaming, someone is I think.
Bullets must hurt.
Ch1: Intellectual wasteland
Blaire Everly Elswood.
Stop! Look. The camera! It's not funny anymore. Tell them to- Blaire! Blaire! God, Blaire!
"What?" I exclaimed, angry tears falling.
"I asked, where you were parked Blaire?" Suzie replied, annoyed.
"I'm in the parking lot." I answered, whipping them off, letting the horrid memory fade.
"Same spot as usual." I chirped.
"Yeah, I see you now." She pauses. "Won't even try to be spontaneous huh?"
"No." I answer quickly.
There's a rustle of noise on Suzie's side, and I flinch at the static like noise.
"Explain to me again why you insist on a phone call in this day and age?" I ask, forcing some strength into my voice. Suzie was perceptive, and I didn't want her to know I had been crying.
Suzie began with a basically rehearsed explanation to why she hates texting. The dangers of text addiction and so forth. I uh-huh in all the right places during her repetitive rant, and wondered again why I even bothered to answer her phone call.
Let it fade. The memory.
Suzie continued her anti-tech rage, but I knew the real reason why she didn't use a screen phone or texted.
Push them away.
And it had nothing to do with the babble of exceptions and lies that were spewing out her mouth. It had mainly to do with her coma this past summer. She had been in a terrible car crash during a ride downtown, and was massively messed up after waking up. Suzie never said anything, but parents talk, and hers are blabber mouths. It was all my parents could do, to gossip about her in the kitchen during our usually quite dinner. My meal tasted particularly foul that night. Like every other night, only this time, it was a lot worse. The soup kept looking more and more like rancid vomit. I didn't tell Suzie I knew, and would never plan to ask her about it. If she hadn't told me yet, she didn't want to. And I wouldn't force her.
We all had secrets.
"Bitch!" she screeched. And I pulled the phone from my ear.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yeah, yes Suzie!" I replied, bringing it back.
I smiled to myself. She really was one of very few friends. I was about to ask her why she was taking so long when I realized the strange back noise that resided during a phone call was gone. I check my cell to see the phone key pad is no longer open and the only thing on my screen were my apps. I suddenly felt a tinge of loneliness for some reason, but her car pulls up next to mine and the feeling thankfully disperses. I begin to pull my stuff into my bag and forcefully ignore the glimpse of my blue eyes in the mirror. I hate mirrors. I finish up packing and turn to the fogged up window to see Suzie's green eyes staring through it. Eyebrow arched, she smiles, and I can hear the giggles and empty threats coming. I click off the lock, grabbing my keys and step outside to the cold air. Shoes making a light splash as I step on last night's rain. But I love rain.
"You. Suck." Suzie declares, managing to make those two words into their own sentences.
"You obviously weren't listening to me." She whines.
"Yeah, sorry." I'm sincere with it.
"And how in the hell are you not cold?" She asks, pointing to my thin apparel of the summer uniform, blue plaid skirt, white polo, and small black boots. I shrug, and gesture to her.
"You look warm though." I say, and tug her blue hoody over her head. She laughs. She makes the winter uniform work.
"You're always so cold to touch, but you never seem to be cold, you know?" She says. And we giggle together. I sigh with a smile, and let that be my last bit of genuine happiness for the day.
Suzie senses my sudden change in moods and looks down. She knows our pattern, how I work. How I need it to be this way, how I need her to stay. I look at our school building in what could only be considered rage, and a glare. I was angry, pissed, and set with revenge with a whole lot of reason.
"Let's go." Suzie says softly, then stops. Turning back around, looks me in the eyes, determined, a sad smile.
"Don't take it too far today, okay?" She pleads, and I feel the pangs of guilt. But also the pangs of anger, and injustice. I was so angry, and the people who walked those halls needed to know they would have no mercy from me. For what they did.
"Okay?" She presses again.
And a wordless no is bounced between our gazes; Suzie looks down, deflated. She stand off to my side and pulls up a small smile.
"You're always so cold…" she mumbles.
And I give a smile at that.
We walk into the intellectual wasteland we call a high school, and I begin a usual Monday.
At the entrance of the school, I felt my feet carry me to the left. The entrance was not only ugly, but made no sense in terms of functionality. The entrance immediately led to a wall covered in ugly painted posters of some dance, and forced an abrupt left turn to lead to the main hallway. The lockers lined up the walls, bulky and smelly of years of packed lunches and gym clothes. It depressed me to no end, that this was considered a high end private school.
I hear groups of people talking about the weekend. Who had a party, who got drunk, laid, or who did all three. And I listened. And I watched, as people slowed to hushed whispers when they noticed I was walking down the hall. Everyone knew who I was. Who I used to be and what I did to those who got on my nerves. A pack of freshman girls walk out of a classroom and one bumps into me. It begins. My bag drops to the floor, and I glare at her from an arrogant stance. It takes her only second to realize who I am. The smile quickly fades from her face. The laughter her friends had going dies away as soon as they get hold of the scene. They stand behind their friend, but made no move in helping her face me.
"Pick it up." I demanded, pointing to the spilled contents of my bag. I glare at her.
She looked confused, like she really didn't understand my request. Her hands shook, as her eyes attempted to meet my face.
Blaire! Tell them to stop! Blaire! God, Blaire! The memory sprang up, and I gave up on the glare. I grabbed the little freshman from the top of her head. Yanking her hair, and smashing her into the lockers. She yelped and seemed to make an attempt to grab my hands away from her head. I saw tears make their way down her face. Stained in black mascara, and smearing her blush in black lines. I felt a thrill at her pained face.
Her friends whined for her, begging me to let go. They huddled together in fear that any one, might be next. I stared straight into her eyes, letting my hate pierce her.
"Pick it up." I repeated softly.
She nodded slightly, her arms hanging limply on her sides. I let her go and she dropped to the floor in seconds. I watch her shaking body scramble around the floor for my stuff. Her knees unintentionally sitting on the long uniform skirt. Grovel. The blue and white tile floors dirtying up her skirt.
She zips up my bag and gently hand it over to me while she's still on the floor. It was like some messed up movie scene where a servant would give a crown to her Queen. I grabbed it and smacked her face with it. She gave a small cry but otherwise stayed still on the ground. I realized I knew who this girl was, and felt a smile spread across my face. Her lips quivered like she was getting ready to say something. I didn't give her that chance.
I knelt down, and whispered. "Your moms fucking the florist down on 3rd."
Her eyes widened and her mouth open and closed like a drowning fish. I laughed and suddenly had a craving for sushi. I smirked then, and left her to cry on the floor. The hall was silent, not a phone or locker of noise. The anger that had been building had been let out some. I relished in her softening cries as I walked away.
Suzie's short heels clicked behind me, and I heard a shuffle of sneakers next to hers. Ann. I turned around to her, and gave her a hello smile.
"Thank you." I said, and she arched her brow.
"You always tell me what you know." I explain. And she turns around to the crying girl on the floor. Her friend asking her if she's all right. And if she needed a nurse. She needs a therapist. I thought, then smirked.
Ann looked down with guilt. She knew everything about everyone, a shadow in the gossip world. And no one knew more than she did. We became friends, when I caught her giggling at a "private" conversation that some Senior guys were having out in the quad. She had given me that last bit about that girl's mother. She always did. She nodded and began our pace to class.
Ann and Suzie were never okay about what I did. But they were lost souls who had found solace with me when they had few to no friends. Casted away as beautiful misfits. They understood why I acted this way, but they were too sad to try to stop me directly. They knew, what people had done to me, to her. The memory that was now on permanent replay came to the center stage of my mind. Twisting me. I had the sudden urge to go back and hit the freshman girl.
I kept walking. If only for Ann and Suzie, their hollow eyes following my every move. They knew this wasn't the way to fix anything. This wouldn't bring her back. Nothing would.
And of course I was smart enough to know that they were right. I was looking for justification and justice in doing these things. And I wasn't going to get it. It had been this endless cycle for months now. I was angry and hurt. And this was the only thing keeping the anger at bay. Keeping me from doing something really atrocious. Keeping me sane.
"I'm craving sushi for lunch today." I said, and felt a wicked smile plaster itself onto my face.
Yes, this kept me sane…
We walked into class. The smell of tattered old English books loitering every desk. I came up to my own and sat down. A leather bound copy of Romeo and Juliet stared back at me. I picked it up and felt disgusted. Everyone knew that they both died in the end.
What was the purpose of reading this?
The class filled up with students, and everyone had about a one desk distance from our group. Ann had her own spot between the rest of the class and Suzie. Making herself invisible, catching herself up on who did what and when and where. All while managing to still be part of my corner of the classroom. I looked at the empty seat behind me. The last one in the row, next to the always open window. I looked back at Ann and glared, till she felt my eyes and turned to me. I nodded in the direction of the seat. Cinthya? I telepathically asked her. Her eyes followed mine to the seat and understood my question. She shrugged but pointed towards the parking lot. I looked outside the windows to where Ann and Suzie's cars were parked to my left. And my right spot was empty. As it had been since the incident. The spaces for the motorcycles were to the far right, but visible. I could see Cinthya's Harley from here. Just like in class there was a space around our cars, and her cycle.
I looked back at Ann with a questioning brow, and she made an eating motion. Cinthya was notorious for being the funniest and most random human you would ever meet. Along with eating at the most inappropriate of places. She was the type to be at school early but manage to still be late. She and Ann had been friends for a few years now. There was a story there but I never bothered to ask. Cinthya had been the only one that could make me smile for a few weeks after the accident. Laugh even. And Ann kept me distracted with stories about what people were up to. At first there efforts annoyed me, but then I came around, and even found some of Ann's sorties extremely useful for what I had begun to do.
had taken roll already, but left the chart out till the end of class. Just like every other teacher who had Cinthya did. She would probably barge in any minute now with a sandwich in her mouth and an excuse on how she fell asleep at the breakfast tables outside again.
I looked back outside and saw a flash of movement. I followed it to the entrance of the school. It was a black Shelby I had never seen before, even amongst the school for the rich. The car zigged up and down, looking for parking. Ignoring the empty spaces near the front gate. The car was about to pass my space as it should have but didn't. The space next to my car was noticed and whoever was dumb enough to do so, parked there. In her spot. I boiled. Who was the idiot who was arrogant enough to park there? Who was so rude and despicable to tarnish that spot? I glared at the shadow of the passenger till he came out. He locked up with his keys and looked up to the sky, where the sprinkles of rain had, without my notice, began to descend. He smiled and then began to jog up the stairs to the entrance. I seethed in my seat and mumbled words of murder.
Who was this guy?
Chapter 2: Hair
Anderson Bartholomew Abrams or Anders
"Anders!" I exclaimed. "Stop looking at yourself in the mirror."
"Shut up Anderson." I answered back, smirking. My reflection twisting from anxious to narcissistic.
"I can't believe I'm late on the first day of school." I said.
"Na, we're fashionably late." I answered.
"First, you didn't want to wake up, then you insisted on pancakes for breakfast!" I exclaimed. Angry with myself.
"You were hungry too." I answered glancing at the mirror. Man I looked good.
I looked around, the parking lot was extremely full. And I had heavily underestimated the distance from dorms to the school.
I got to the front and smiled from ear to ear. Parking! And right in front of the school. I checked for "faculty only" signs or anything that might prevent me from parking. Someone must have left a few minutes after class had already started. Either way, I turned my Shelby in, and parked.
I must look so cool.
I glanced at the mirror. Ugh, I grimaced.
I looked like a mess.
Then smiled.
A hot mess.
I took the keys out of the ignition and grabbed my things. Stopped and stared back at the mirror.
"Don't mess this one up!" I told myself.
"We- I mean I got expelled last time!" I exclaimed, looking away from myself. I took my small hand mirror and placed it in my pocket.
"Don't get into trouble." I whispered, and my eyes glittered in remorse.
"Yeah, whatever." I answered, then nodded.
I stepped out and locked up. I felt the drop of something on my nose, then looked up. It was raining. I was glad all of me, liked the rain. I gave the sky a smile then turned to the school. I took the steps up by two. The school looked like a white castle that had been given touches of a modern day mansion. The gate that I had passed through was definitely over 15 ft. high. I walked through the doors and stopped. The opening just led to a wall. I kept walking forward, and saw it made a sharp left turn. I went to the main office, and beside a stern look and few directions the office ladies let me off with my class schedule and a map.
I started walking in the direction that the map seemed to direct me to. The layout itself was strange, but captivated my interest in such a way. I was getting to the end of the first hallway passing the cafeteria doors when I noticed someone sleeping on a bench outside the doors.
"Wow, that brown hair, is crazy curly!" I hackled.
"Shut up." I whispered quickly.
The curly haired girl wiggled, paused, then stood up so fast even I could tell she made herself dizzy. She had on the summer uniform that I'd seen during my first visit before my transfer. The pearls around her neck, fiercely contradicted the black combat boots she had going. And her hair was so wild I couldn't actually tell if it was purposely that way or of she just never brushed her hair. Either way none of that was as noticeable as the cookie sticking out of her shirt.
She noticed me, then the cookie. And then seemed to debate on what to do first for about a second before she turned to me.
"You!" she pointed at me, brown eyes thick with sleep.
"Uh, yeah?" I squeaked, then faked clearing my voice.
She grabbed the cookie out of her shirt and started eating.
"What time is it?"
I fished out my cellphone and glanced at the time.
"It's 8:46." I said.
Her eyes got wide, she paused, then stood up.
"Bullshit!" she spit.
She considered something then exclaimed "Window!"
Proceeded to pick up her stuff and then ran, cookie in her mouth the whole way. I just stood there, frozen, mouth agape. Watching as she ran toward the exit and practically threw herself at the door.
"Who actually acts like that?" I laughed. Then started walking.
I repeated the funny girl's expressions and smiled to myself; while contemplating the whereabouts of this English classroom I had yet to come to. A strange relief set itself into my bones as I realized there was someone else who was really strange. It would help when people started asking too many questions. As long as there was someone like her around I was positive her behavior would make mine seem minor. She just seemed like that type.
The door numbers in the hallway started to count down to the room I assumed was my English class. I took a deep breath, and walked past them till I reached the door. Room 116. I turned the door knob, a soft cool breeze pushed my hair back as I pushed it further.
There is an open window.
Curly hair.
A chocolate chip cookie.
Beautiful blue eyes
Someone's yelling, but the eyes have me trapped, I feel it now. For the second time since the first many years ago. A shift. I want to come out, he, me, the other one. I feel it stronger then my usual switch. A haze like feeling coming over me.
I'm going to disappear, I will never see again.
Stop, Anders!
The rain starts pounding on the window. The teacher is yelling at a girl. She has a cookie in her mouth, it's half gone. She's soaking wet and climbing in through the window. But it's not her who has my attention. A single seat ahead of her was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Curly black hair with spins of dark brown. Skin so light it was almost pale. But nothing was more captivating then her eyes. So blue, like frosted glass and electricity had melded together. She blinked. And that brought me back. The haze snapped. Bursting.
The world snapped back into place.
I'm o.k. I repeated to myself. I'm still here.
I shivered and pushed my hair back. The haze fading into nothing, my calm coming back to me. I looked over to where everyone was watching the girl climb into the room.
"Cinthya! What were you thinking?" the teacher growled, barely acknowledging my presence.
I stared at the Cinthya girl, I had been right, no one had seemed to notice my almost solo breakdown thanks to her shenanigans. Well, at least almost no one.
The teacher, whose name according to my schedule was could practically climb onto his desk for all the leaning he was doing. He seemed to be debating at least in my imagination, whether to kill cookie girl or send her to detention.
I waited patiently for his response.
He sighed deeply, then sat into his chair. "Cinthya, why must you feel like climbing through a window is an acceptable way of getting into my classroom?"
Cinthya completed her entrance and grabbed the cookie from her mouth, "Sorry teach, I just thought I could sneak in low-key and then like, yeah."
She bit into her cookie. A few student giggled, some actually looked bored.
Like, girl comes in through window, oh yeah happens every few days bored.
For a second I thought was going to yell at her, but he simply grabbed a clipboard at the front of his desk and checked something off. I assumed it was the attendance sheet.
grunted, looked back up at Cinthya, who I knew for sure now, just didn't brush her hair.
"If you didn't have the top score at this school, I would have half a mind to send you to the office again!" exclaimed . My mouth snapped open. That crazy human being who just climbed in through the window while eating a freakin cookie was the smartest person here?
"Thank for the compliment !"Cinthya said.
"Trust me kiddo it was a threat, now get to your seat." said, he paused. Looked up at her again. "Was it the benches outside or the gym this time?' he asked her.
I wonder when they will notice my presence. I mean God just basically walked in, in sexy asian and white form. Hello?
I shifted my stance a little. Embarrassed for myself. Yeah, my inner dialogue left much to be desired.
"Neither, it was outside the cafeteria, some guy was making lots a noise, straight up woke me up. Dude ruined my nap. Cute guy though…has black hair and…" She stopped. Noticed me. "Oh, yeah, that dude." She pointed, taking the final bite of her cookie.
Finally! I thought. Then, crap.
The entire class seemed to notice my presence then, I felt 30 pairs of eyes and one beautiful, electrifying gaze in my direction. Dam she's hot! I forced myself to look at the teacher, put on a smile and cleared the hair out of my eyes.
"Hi!" I sounded too chirpy.
"Im Anderson, umm… I guess im that dude who just won't let the ladies sleep." I grinned. Then inwardly cringed. Ugh, why did I say it like that! Anders!
looked bored. I heard some of the girls sigh and whisper my name. I glanced over at electric eyes and got caught in her glare. She actually glared, fiercely. I suddenly felt an urge to apologize, she seemed, for lack of a better word, pissed. And she was definitely mad at me. For what I had no clue. I contemplated this, while signed my Syllabus and handed me a copy of Romeo and Juliet.
"Ok, you're going to sit next to…" He glanced at an empty seat next to Cinthya. "Someone normal…" he finished. I smiled. I'm gonna like this teacher. Yeah, he seems cool. I agreed with myself.
"Ah! My next star pupil! Blaire raise your hand please." At the sound of her name, the class went quite, not a pencil sound or a rustle of paper to be heard. I looked to electric eyes, for some reason, I just knew it was her. Blaire. Her name gave me chills.
And I hit jackpot, because a slender hand went up. Summer uniform at play, not a sweater or jacket nearby. I actually felt cold staring at her. Her eyes where cold, a heartless cruel pool of blue. But she smiled. It dint reach her eyes. "Yes?" she responded, in a goddess like voice.
smiled. "That will be your seat . Blaire, I'd like if you could help Mr. Anderson with any questions regarding our class system and grading rules."
"My pleasure." she smiled. it wasn't a nice one.