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Ch. 2 Cut

I'm not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore

Cut by Plumb

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

This could not be happening right now. I mean there's no way in Hell that the boy sitting in that chair could look exactly like the guy I drew last night. Well not exactly since he didn't have black wings flying out from his back but everything else besides that. They held the same eye shape, hair style, body – hell they even had the same jawline. I blinked a few times as I got closer to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating but the boy's face never changed. So I was in the world of the sane. That's really fucked up.

The girls around him whispered among each other as I finally reached the desk beside his, taking a seat. Brittany Taylor, the most popular and prettiest girl in the school, glared at me since the new boy's attention wasn't on her. This fucker must have eye problems or something because he was still staring at me. I'd tried to look him in the eye a couple times but failed each time due to a strange shiver that went up my back every time our eyes made contact. "You all are dismissed," I told the girls who were still around the new boy. They all looked at me like I was crazy at first. "Shoo shoo," I said with a wave of my hand. Like good little bitches, they did as they were told. Once they were gone and out of hearing range, I returned my attention to the boy who was smirking at me. "What the fuck is your problem," I snapped, getting annoyed.

"So I'm guessing this is what you do then," he said, his voice smoother than it was before, his strong Hispanic accent flowing gracefully as he spoke. "You bump into people and then wave girls off as if you're the queen of the world."

"Oh, so I'm guessing you're a jackass and a creeper. Well that's nice to know," I said, keeping my voice light and sarcastic. His smirk grew. I was starting to see sharp white teeth in his mouth. Because that's normal.

"You're a feisty little thing aren't you," he asked as he gave me the elevator look. I scowled.

"I guess you could say that," I growled.

"So what's your name, bonita?" Since I am taking Spanish, I knew what he said. Calling me beautiful will not score him any points in my book. If he doesn't just shut the fuck up then maybe I would actually be cool with him. Of course that won't happen though.

"None of your business." He shrugged.

"Okay than Rosalinda."

"Shut up," I snapped, slamming my fist down on the desk in anger. "Can't you just be a good little new boy and be quiet. Better yet, go back there and flirt with girls who actually want your attention." He cocked an eyebrow. Why did it have to be in the perfect arch? Dammit, I thought it was so hot when guys had perfect arched eyebrows like that but now that he's done it: I think I'm over it. He just has to ruin everything, doesn't he?

"I could but I want your attention." I scoffed, turning away from him. Fucking jackass. "Aw did I piss you off?"

"What do you think," I asked through clenched teeth. Reluctantly, I looked over at him to see he was actually in deep thought. Or at least he was pretending to be in deep thought.

"I think that you're attracted to me." I almost fell out of my chair. What kind of shit was that? Instead of falling out in shock, I just started laughing. Now that I think about it, the fact that he thought I liked him was quite humorous.

"Obviously your head is not in the right place, amigo," I told him between laughs. His full lips pulled into a slight twist of annoyance.

"So you don't like me?" I shook my head, trying to contain my laughs. If I wasn't mistaken, the boy looked a bit frustrated at that but his face relaxed before I could confirm it. "You say that now," he said arrogantly.

"Whatever floats your boat, dude."

"I do have a name ya know."

"Oh I know. I just don't care seeing as I haven't asked. Try putting two and two together without coming up with five." He rolled his ice blue eyes.

"Scourge. My name is Scourge."

"That's not a real name."

"Well I don't like my real name so I guess you're going to have to call me by something that's not a name."

"I can always ask the teacher what your real name is and I can call you by that. It would be fun to annoy you while trying to be polite. Sounds like a great substitute for punching you in the face."

"The school doesn't know my real name. It's not in the school records. For all they know, my name is Scourge." He smirked as I scowled. "Seems like you're out of luck."

"I can always just punch you in the face."

"Mmm, I'd love to see you try." I rolled my eyes. I would have to be stuck with this douchebag for a whole week. That's just perfect.

"Whatever. Give me your schedule." He dug into his pocket to pull out the folded sheet of paper. As I looked it over, I noticed that it was almost identical to my schedule. The only difference were the locker numbers. Ah hell…

"We have all the same classes don't we," he asked, probably noticing my facial expression. Dammit, can't he shut the hell up for one second? I don't think I'll be able to put up with this shit all fucking day.

"Yea," I said quietly, handing him back the paper.

"Awesome. That means that I have somebody to sit with at lunch."

"Do not sit with me." Although I sit alone since Cody doesn't have that period lunch didn't mean that I wanted someone to sit with me. It actually felt good to be alone and draw for 45 minutes in between eating whatever my aunt gave me for lunch.

"I'll take that as an invitation." I rolled my eyes as the bell rang. Quickly, I grabbed my black book bag and walked out the classroom. He couldn't be that stupid as to get lost in the school. Then again it was pretty big. Whatever, he'll figure it out. Better yet maybe one of those desperate bitches can help him. Hopefully then he would take interest in that girl and leave me alone. When I reached my first period math class, I went to my regular seat in the back of the class. I started to take out my materials when I saw Scourge walk in. His swagger wasn't one of a normal boy's though. His steps seemed more graceful, as if it flowed naturally. Sure it was still gangster like but a more classical one I guess.

He looked a bit anxious, looking around the room as if it were all knew to him. Mr. Yang, our math teacher, greeted him before giving him his textbook and pointing to the back of the class where he could sit. I looked to the seat he was pointing to. Of course it would be the one next to mine. I groaned, putting my face in the hands. "Miss me," I heard him ask.

"Not really," I said, removing my hands from my face.

"Is your favorite color black or something?"

"No, it just brings out my skin tone," I retorted sarcastically. He shrugged.

"I think you'd look better in lighter colors."

"I don't care what you think."

"You don't care about what anyone thinks."

"And how would you know that?" I looked over at him to see him lounging in his seat, his long legs stretched out under the desk.

"Because all Emo people don't care."

"Right."

"You should really lighten up on the makeup though. You have a really sweet face that should have bright colors on it. Not dark menacing ones."

"Are you gay or something? Because I've never heard a guy try to reason with me over my makeup."

"If I was gay then I wouldn't be hitting on you, now would I?"

"Whatever. Why do you care about how I present myself anyway?"

"Because you can be much more beautiful than you already are if you'd just try to brighten up."

"Thanks for your advice but I'm comfortable with my black, thank you very much." He looked down at my notebook, seeing all the little wings I'd drew on it. I could've sworn, I saw something flash in his eyes. If I wasn't mistaken, there was a slight flash of black in his ice blue irises. It was easy to pick out because his eyes were so light but hard to confirm since it came and left so quickly. He looked as if he wanted to say something but let it go because Mr. Yang started class.

Throughout our morning classes, Scourge continually tried to get me to talk to him. He was always passing me notes or poking me with his pen so that I would give him my attention. It was so annoying. Couldn't the guy take a hint that I didn't wish to be bothered. I wasn't a big people person – especially with guys who were complete assholes like him. The girls who tried so desperately to talk to him always got shrugged off or ignored since he was too busy staring at me. I tried not to feel flattered that he took such an interest in me but I couldn't help it. I also couldn't help but to feel a shiver down my back when our arms accidentally brushed as we were walking down the hallway.

The feeling was cold and sharp. Almost like the faded scars on his arms. I wanted to ask about them but between all of his stupid questions, I could never find the time to. Since he didn't even seem to notice them, I just left the subject alone. At lunch, as I was drawing in my travel sketchpad, he sat down across from me at my table. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Fry," he asked, pushing his plate of fries toward me a little.

"Didn't I tell you not to sit with me," I said as I glared at him. He slid his fries closer to him.

"I'll take that as a no," he murmured as he looked down at his lunch.

"Why can't you go sit with those girls over there," I asked, pointing to a round table where a bunch of the popular girls were staring longingly at him while whispering amongst themselves. He barely glanced at him.

"Because I want to sit with you."

"Why?"

"I like you," he said as if it was an obvious fact. Blush did creep up my cheeks a little at that though.

"You don't even know me."

"I'd like to though…if you'll let me." I sighed, looking down. If he really knew me then he'd turn around and run just like every other guy. That's what all boys do. They find me intriguing and mysterious but once they figure out about my past and my nightmares then they wish they'd never met me. Scourge would definitely be like that since he had all the girls in the school lined up for him. It's just too bad for them that he's into me.

"Whatever." He smirked.

"So I'll take that as a yes then." I shrugged. He looked over at my untouched food as I started to sketch a picture of him. During this period, I usually find a person to sketch and turn them into one of my winged creations. "Aren't you going to eat," he asked as he stuck a fry into his mouth.

"I'm not hungry. Looking at your face made me lose my appetite." He rolled his eyes. For once, he was actually quiet. Maybe because he was eating and didn't have time for talking. I did end up devouring the little chicken sandwich Auntie packed me as I finished up my drawing of him. Surprisingly, he was hard to draw. A lot of his features were sharp and very strong so I had to make sure that everything wasn't lopsided. The rest of the day went by pretty quick. I'd gotten used to Scourge's annoying questions and the shiver his touch caused. I was pretty adaptable so I guess that was just in my nature. For some reason, I even let him walk me home. It was an apartment building anyway so he didn't really know where I lived specifically. Just the main place.

"So you gonna give me a hug," he asked as he handed me my back pack. Yea, he wanted to carry it. I didn't mind that part since it got me out the job.

"Nope. See you tomorrow." I turned to go in the building when I felt muscular arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against a firm torso. Damn, he felt good. The way he squeezed me tight against him made me blush deeply. Dammit, what was this boy doing to me? What was this pull that caused me to want to know him? Why did this attraction only apply to him?

"Bye bonita," he whispered in my ear before letting me go. I turned to see him halfway down the street. What the fuck? I shook off the shivers that went over my whole body before heading into the building. I was surprised to find the apartment empty when I finally got up there. Auntie was always home by this time. Where could she have gone? The flash of black wings came to mind as I thought of some possibilities to that question. In an attempt to fight back tears, I closed my eyes. They couldn't take her away from me. Not when she was the only family I had left.

I retreated to my room where a sudden need came over. My father's journal. It was if something had whispered that in my ear, the message was so clear. I walked over to the drawer the box was in and took it out. There were strange markings all over the box but I still had yet to find out what they meant. I'd tried to translate them in tons of different languages but came out with no results. Maybe this is the language the black winged people spoke. If they were people. Another shiver went up my spine at the thought of the black wings being gruesome creatures instead of the beautiful beings I'd drawn in my pictures.

But, don't start reading the journal until you feel you're ready to know the truth about what happened to mommy and daddy. Do you understand, Angel?

My father's voice rang into my head as I laid eyes on his journal. Was I ready for the truth? Honestly and truly ready? With caution, I picked up the old journal. The cover was plain old brown with my father's name on it. An ordinary journal if you'd ask anyone but to me it was a book of secrets. Just as I was about to open the book, I heard the front door of the apartment creak open. I listened closely for the sound of my aunt announcing it was her but the noise never came. All I heard was the slow creaking of the wood against someone's feet. What if they're here for me? What do I do?

I set the book down and grabbed the bat I kept under my bed. The footsteps were making their way towards me bedroom so I stood next to the door, holding my bat as if I was ready to hit. Fear filled me a little as the footsteps got closer and closer. These angels could drag me straight to Hell if they wanted to. Maybe that's what they did to my parents. Since their wings weren't exactly golden nor a pure white, I'm guessing they were evil. Or at least that's what I was hoping they were. Just evil. IF they were anything more than I don't know what I'd do. As the door was kicked open, I swung the bat at whatever lied on the other side.

To my surprise, the mystery person grabbed the bat and yanked it out my hand. I blinked a couple times to make sure my eyes weren't fooling me. Standing in front of me, giving me a look that could kill, was Scourge. What the fuck? He threw the bat behind him carelessly. "How the hell did you get in here," I yelled, holding up my fist to punch him but he walked past me with ease into my room, ducking the left hook as he did so.

"You didn't answer when I knocked," he answered simply as he looked around my room. The walls were painted gray as was my carpet a jet black with pictures of metal bands and my drawings all over the walls. My bed was a simple full size with a black comforter that had red roses all over it. There was a desk on the wall opposite from my bed, a TV hanging above it. "Nice place," he mused aloud before his eyes flicked to my father's journal that still lay on my desk. "What's that," he asked, taking a step toward it.

"Nothing," I replied, grabbing the book and holding it against my chest. He raised his eyebrow into a perfect arch again. He really needed to stop doing that. It actually made me attracted to him. Not a good thing.

"Doesn't seem like nothing."

"It's personal," I said, letting my voice get low. As if I was going to tell him that this was my missing father's journal that held secrets about creatures who probably descended from Hell. Or maybe I should've. He would most likely leave me alone if I told him that. He shrugged, walking over to my folder that was filled with my black winged people I drew. As he looked them over, I packed up the box and put it back in the drawer where it once was.

"You're an amazing artist, Rosy. These pictures are so exquisite and precise. Even the one of me is absolutely breathtaking." He paused as I turned to look at him, a smirk coming upon his lips. "Having premonitions about me?"

"Oh shut the hell up," I snapped. He chuckled at me as he continued to flip through the pictures.

"Where did you get such vivid images like this from anyway?"

"Um, I watch a lot of scary movies about demons and angels and stuff," I lied casually. In reality, I actually got them from my dreams. Sometimes I would dream about them. There was never an exact story line or event. Just the people. It was quite strange actually.

Scourge looked up at me, a gleam of disbelief in his eyes. I stiffened slightly in fear that he knew I was lying. Oh who was I kidding? Of course he knew I was lying. I wouldn't have drawn him if he wasn't one of them. My grandmother confirmed their existence before she died. She didn't tell me exactly what they were but she did explain that they were real. To my relief, Scourge didn't say anything about my little lie. Still, I didn't feel too comfortable being here alone with him. If he was one of those creatures then he could easily take me. I tried not to notice before but there was some type of darkness that lied in his eyes. It scared me.

I halfway jumped out my skin when I noticed he was standing inches away from me. Out of my shocked reaction, I jumped backwards only to bang against my desk. My feet tripped over each other and I fell forward into his arms. Another one of those cold sensations rang through my body as did heat rush to my cheeks. What kind of shit was that? I'm never that clumsy. Slowly, I looked up into Scourge's ice blue orbs to that they held both amusement and concern. Of course he would find that little act funny in some way though. Asshole.

"Get out before I call the cops," I said as I pushed him away. He tilted his head slightly.

"IF you wanted to call the cops then you would have done it the moment after you tried to hit me with a bat."

"GET OUT MY HOUSE," I yelled, infuriated by his smart ass comment. If you can't tell already: I have a short temper that you don't want to mess with.

"It's actually an apartment." I growled, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket. He was chuckling as I dragged him across my home to the door where I threw him into the wall and shut the door in his face. Fucking douchebag. I made sure the door was locked this time so he wouldn't try getting in again. The thought of him breaking in suddenly caused me to get a bit weak in fear. That would mean an easier kidnapping. They could get me when I was sleeping or when I was distracted. I wish Scourge had stayed now. Even if he was one of them, at least he wasn't trying to hurt me – for the moment.

I went back to my room to paw through my folder of the black winged people. The picture I drew of Scourge was gone. Weirdo probably took it. But why? I shrugged off the question. It didn't have to be important. I turned to see a piece of paper stuck into a corner of my mirror. What the fuck? It was Scourge's number, with a winky face next to it. A sigh escaped my lips. If this was all some sort of plan then he sure was working hard at it.

Remembering my earlier goal before Scourge's sudden interruption, I took out my father's journal again. With caution, I opened it, causing a small piece of paper to fall out. On it was a small message.

He is the key but do not fall so quickly to open the door that you don't see the answers hidden inside yourself.

Not really a cliff hanger but just something to keep you guys thinking about I guess.

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