Eyes of a Murderer

Why did you change?

- November 16th, autumn

- 12:35pm

I sat serenely, intently engaged in the lesson, scribbling down whatever notes were sketched on the board in my notebook. Mrs. Locke had called on a student to answer a question when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Hold that thought." She told the student, shuffling from behind her desk to get to the door. I heard her heave an irritable sigh when she opened it, and then I immediately knew who it was at the door. I turned to the pendulous clock hanging on the wall.

'Thirty minutes late,' I noted to myself. I watched as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her, but not before I heard a vexed groan emanate from Paul, already perceptive of the lecture that would ensue.

We could all hear their discussion, everyone being deathly silent, nosily endeavoring to distinguish what was being said. "Paul, I am sick and tired of your constant tardiness. Where have you been?" She growled at him.

I could almost see Paul rolling his eyes in total disregard to her. "Why are you worried about me?" He asked indifferent.

Mrs. Locke's voice raised an octave. "Because you're not going to keep strolling," she really enunciated the word, "into my classroom whenever you feel like it. It is not only disrespectful to you, but also to me and to all the students who bothered to arrive on time to better themselves'." I could practically see her rolling her neck in a ghetto fashion as she told him off.

"Oh my god," Paul sighed frustrated. "Can we just go in the damn classroom?" It was obvious his patience was thinning, even though he was the one at fault, and I could sense Mrs. Locke becoming infuriated.

"You better calm that tone, and watch the type of language you're using with me, Paul." He groaned. "I am not one of your friends, okay? You don't talk to me like that."

"Paul is so rude." I snapped from the conversation happening outside and turned to Kim, noting her shaking her head in dissonance. "Who could raise such a child?" I was sure she wasn't asking anyone in particular, that is until she turned to me with a questioning look. I guess she was expecting my opinion.

I shrugged rigidly. I was too frightened to answer verbally, fearful that Paul might've heard, even though that was highly unlikely. Fear was embedded in my bones when anything pertained to the jocks. She continued on, much to my dismay. "His attitude sickens me. His face sickens me." I wouldn't know. "Ugh…he's just so intolerable and disrespectful."

"Can I just go to class?" My attention turned back to the private conversation — or they thought it was private — outside the door when I heard Mrs. Locke's tone raise another octave, nearly screaming as she interrupted Paul.

"No! You cannot go inside the classroom. Now tell me what had you so caught up that you're thirty minutes late to my class, Paul." She demanded, evidently agitated.

"Stop worrying about what the hell I do, and go teach yo' damn class!" Paul shouted with acridity. He had to be glowering, the acid in his tone was eminent. It was silent for a long while, until Mrs. Locke broke it, dejectedly stating:

"If I keep telling you, you'll never see your faults, Paul. You're just going to have to figure it out and see it for yourself." Then there was another elongated silence, subsequent, but then the door opened.

I quickly bowed my head to my chest, refusing to make eye contact. I could hear the soles of their shoes padding against the tile floor, and then I discerned a pair of mildly abraded sneakers passing by my downcast visual. I assumed that that was Paul. Mrs. Locke's heeled shoes faltered in their clanking as she yielded behind her desk once again.

"I'll just have to have a talk with your coach. You don't seem to initiate any academic inclination, so you shouldn't have the privilege to be on a team." She said uncouth. "I'll be sure you're suspended from the next few upcoming games."

I heard Paul scoff before laughing out loud at her, not even endeavoring to be discreet about it. "Whatever lady." He mocked, and my head bowed further as he squeezed by me to settle into his usual desk in the back of the room.

As rude as Paul was — and still is — for laughing irrepressibly in her face, it was inevitable not to concur with his incredulity. There was no way in hell that Mr. Sanford would suspend Paul from any game for any reason, and especially not for his behavior. I personally believed Sanford agreed and fed off of Paul's ill-manners and belligerence. It seemingly helped him on the field.

I cautiously lifted my head after I was certain that Paul had stumbled to the back and was comfortably seated in his desk. I gauged Mrs. Locke's expression; her face reddened from her suppressed rage. She took a deep breath that I assumed alleviated a portion of that enragement, and with a disappointed shake of her heard, she turned back to the blackboard and resumed her lesson.

"The bastard," I could've sworn I heard Kim say.

X:~/~:X

- 1:20pm

To say that the remainder of the class period with Paul was easy would've been a terrible, terrible lie. And to say that Mrs. Locke was infuriated again would've been an understatement. She was practically blowing steam from her ears and nose like a rampaged cartoon bull. That's why I was sure when the fourth hour bell rang she was rejoicing to have gone another day without blowing a gasket — hopefully she can go tomorrow as well.

But I waited in my desk, idly nitpicking at anything in my proximity, head bowed and clutching my notebook to my chest. Paul was always the last to class but nearly always the first out the door when the bell rang.

He again squeezed by me, his thigh rubbing against my shoulder, and my body jerked forward a little, and reflexively I looked up. I froze. I couldn't believe it, I had actually looked up! I heard him elicit a subtle grunt and I knew my eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

When he turned to look back at who had bumped my heart had stopped completely. His dark brown eyes stared fiercely into mine, evoking certain death, and his brows were furrowed, a scowl set in place. He had sharp cheek bones and calloused russet skin that I assumed covered his entire body. So this is Paul?

God, help me! I began to inwardly pray. He had only looked at me for a brief second, but in that second my eyes seemed to have run over every aspect of his face, and the image of him was entrenched in my mind. Fear had rooted itself more obstinately inside my core. I knew the torture was about to begin, but at least Mrs. Locke was here to stop it before it got too out of hand. I just hoped he wasn't as rough as Quil, Mike, or Jared. I can't afford anymore broken bones.

Who the hell was I kidding? This guy was ten times worse than all of them put together. Only looking into his eyes mortified my entire being and stirred the apprehension in my gut further. To hell with broken bones, I'm too young to die here. God, please help me! All I could do was pray. But much to my absolute bemusement, and not to mention satisfaction, Paul had turned and walked off without utter a word or shoving me or grimacing disgustedly at me.

I stayed frozen and only relaxed when I convinced myself he was gone and wasn't coming back. After about two minutes the room was clear, only I and Mrs. Locke were left together. "Seth." When she called me it sounded as though she was mumbling. My brain hadn't yet taken the necessary precautions to function properly, and I was sort of still in a daze, yet I felt my eyelids blinking.

"Seth?" I heard the inquiry in her voice, but it still only sounded as though she were murmuring, until I noted her standing before me, my eyes still widened and all. "Are you okay sweetheart?" I must not have answered because at that point she had grabbed my shoulder and shook me one good time.

"Huh?" I immediately snapped from my hypnosis, my eyes wandering around the room aimlessly searching — for what, I don't exactly know. Absently I wondered just how long me Paul's confrontation was — if it can even be called a confrontation. "What?"

"Seth," at the mention of my name my attention turned to Mrs. Locke, staring into her brown eyes that were filled with perplexity and uncertainty. "Is everything okay at home?" My brain was still a little under construction, so I assumed I must've answered her too slowly which made her stare at me in disbelief.

"…Ye-yeah. Everything is fine…I'm just, tired." I said. It wasn't entirely a lie. It does get tiring being filled with fear and worrying if you were going to get bashed everyday, but that obviously wasn't my real reason. Her eyes told me of her incredulity, as I'm sure mine told her that I was lying, since I reverted back to my bad habit and wouldn't look at her.

"Seth—"

"Really Mrs. Locke, everything at home is fine." I said with alacrity, smiling, my previous trepidation set aside for the moment. I willed my mind to commence churning the gears again and quickly, before she could bombard me with anymore questions, I gathered myself and propelled from my desk, heading towards the door.

"I wish I could somehow teach Paul —" I heard her saying before I, quite rudely, interrupted.

"I would help if I could Mrs. Locke. I'm sorry," and I was out the door, power walking until I was far enough and I slowed down into a casual saunter. I emitted a demur sigh as my mind raced on its own accord.

X:~/~:X

- 1:45pm

Twenty minutes of unforgivable hell had already gone by as I sat in my fourth hour History class with Mr. Williamson. He was a pretty decent guy, but his class was painfully boring, painfully boring! His voice was monotone and he tended to drawl the vowels at the end of each sentence he finished. It was like a lullaby, and by the end of the period nearly everyone was asleep, even myself included.

Thank god Embry was here with me or else I would've been asleep ages ago, dead probably. Our friend Alec had the class too. Well, I wouldn't actually call him a friend of mine since we hardly ever talk to each other outside of this class. We would see each other in the halls but wouldn't even attempt speaking to one another. He was one of those friends that are there for that one hour class period that's enjoyable to talk to. He was more so Embry's friend, but he was nice to talk to.

The room was dark, which was understandable since most of the lights were turned off while Mr. Williamson taught us from the projecting screen that illuminated most of the room. He held a pointer stick and his notebook full of notes, mumbling incoherently about this and that. I wasn't really listening as I tried to ignore Embry whispering into my ear.

"Ah! So you finally saw him, huh?" Embry inquired after Mr. Williamson halted his lecture for a brief moment and started rummaging through his cabinets. Embry grinned impishly. I sighed before dropping my head to my desk, contemplating if I should bang my head against the desk and knock myself unconscious. I regretted telling him anything. Nonetheless, I nodded. "So, what do you think? Would you hit that?" My head shot up immediately as I glared at him.

"You know Em, for you to proclaim that you're such a shy person, you're really blunt." He only shrugged, nonchalant. "You shouldn't make it a habit to lie, you know."

"I never said I was shy, you assumed I was." He murmured. Mr. Williamson had begun talking again. "But would you?" I groaned as I noted another grin overtaking his face. He was so persistent. What part of, I really rather not talk about it right now, didn't he understand when I told him the beginning of class.

"Would you what?" Both Embry and I turned to Alec whose eyes went back and forth between the two of us. He wasn't gay, I didn't think. But he was a clueless sap, because although I'm openly gay to everyone, and Embry is discreet about his sexuality, I highly doubt that he knows that either of us is gay, but we figured he'd find out whenever he opened his eyes and actually looked. It wasn't that hard to spot.

I shook my head at him. "Nothing. Embry is just being stupid as usual." I turned back to my friend — the one I can truthfully call my friend. "I unfortunately don't see him getting any smarter in the future."

Embry scoffed before he rolled his eyes. "I just asked a simple question…no need to get your panties in a bunch and entangled up your ass."

"What was the question, maybe I can answer it." Alec offered, and both Embry and I looked at each other, and I discerned the puckish smirk adorn his lips, and desperately begged him with my eyes not to say anything to him. We agreed he'd find out on his own.

"Well, Seth here has a probl —"

"Shut up!" I growled, propelling halfway out of my desk and clasping my hand over his mouth. Then I heard someone clearing their throat and I turned to the front of the class where I saw Mr. Williamson's half lilied eyes staring uninterested at me.

"Excuse, but Mr. Clearwater, is there something you'd like to say?" I quickly moved back upright into my seat and shook my head. "Well please; can you and your "posy" stop interrupting my class?" He drawled, and I could just feel my eyelids getting heavier, and I regrettably and involuntarily yawned at him in response. His eyes fixed me a glower, and I was slightly taken aback.

"Sorry," I murmured. "We won't interrupt again." Mr. Williamson turned back towards the projecting screen, and started point at locations on a Middle Eastern map. I looked around the class, and as expected, more than half the class was dead sleep.

I sighed. At least Embry has to stop badgering me; I thought and closed my eyes. Two seconds later I felt something hit me in the face and I glared over at the only culprit. Embry pointed to my desk and I looked down and unfolded the paper that read:

Would you? I stared at the piece of paper in disbelief. This jackass, I thought to myself. I snarled under my breath before picking up my pencil and scribbling: Leave me alone, and tossing it back at him, hoping it would hit him in the face like he did to me, but he caught it instead.

I saw him grimace at the paper and then grin. I saw his pencil carving into the paper before he balled it up and threw it, again hitting me in the face. I furrowed my brows. Damned shit reflexes! I cursed to myself. I unraveled the paper.

Damnit, just tell me. Tell me and we don't have to go with Jasper or Edward today…or tomorrow…or whenever the hell they're going out. That was a good deal, which was my first thought, but then that would mean I would have to remember those piercing eyes that felt like they were stabbing me in the chest and forehead. I sighed. I really didn't want to go out with them, so I forced myself to endure.

Paul. Would I have done it with, Paul? Wait, I was still a virgin. What the hell was I thinking? But despite his eyes radiating certain death, they were pretty I guess. In their own, dark, demented and morbid, "I want to kill," sort of way. His cheek bones were sharp and defined, and that was kind of sexy…I think. They actually seemed scarier than his fists, like they would cut you if he smiled. His skin was sort of like mine and Leah's, and mindlessly I wondered if he was a native like us, but his russet skin was rougher, but I suppose that came from the years of athleticism and getting hit in the face from fighting.

It couldn't be helped. Paul was an all-around scary person, and now I understood why the jocks relied on him in their time of need and desperation to kick somebodies ass. It was because if they couldn't, he most definitely could, and he frightened and disturbed my very soul.

I picked up my pencil and wrote my answer before throwing it at Embry, rejoicing with a grin when it hit him in the face. He looked around perplexed until his eyes came upon the note on the desk and he opened it to read. His countenance twisted in what could only be confusion. He looked to me with a smirk.

"Knew it," was all he said, and I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my desk before laying my head down, deciding not to talk to him for the rest of the period. I was, soon than expected, taken away by Mr. Williamson's lullaby.


A lot of people favorite this story after only three chapters, so I figured I'd start it up again. It's been awhile. Lol. I hope I still know where I'm going with this. ^_^ I did make an outline of this story before writing it, so I should know what all is supposed to happen. We will see.

BUT it is unbeta-ed, so if anyone is willing then please shoot me a message. Anyhow, tell me what you all think, 'kay?