Chapter 3
French is as boring as ever. My sister never showed up. Everyone stayed away from me, maybe some people started to follow me around. I ignore it, memorys of my past alow me to swim through the days I enjoyed, even a rare few of my parents. Or at least some pictures of them. Last lesson is up next. To be honest I can be asked to go at all. Its not like they will punish me…a knife in the back, no matter how unmetathorical couldn't hurt me more that I have already been. Let them kill me, at least I will be with my parents, as if I am to be so lucky.
Its irratting me now. Looking back to the start of the day I had noticed footsteps, and I knew someone was still following me, yet I still couldn't tell who. Thats the problem with being in a hallway erupting with teens, and along with that the unescapable extra of noise, not to mention smell.
Im shuffling through the hall in my haste to locate the bathroom. Being pushed constantly into the lockers, brusies all over my body, and a smile creeping on to my face. My jumpers hood hangs loosley around my head. I grin again before I choose to turn into the toilet doors. The glinting stick woman in a dress missing a few screws that latch it to the door, this is a school toilet. I guess I shouldn't be expecting luxury. I tudge over to the oppersite wall, leaning my back softly against the salmon, sunset pink of the walls.
I can't stop thinking about my sister, but when can i. especialy since our secret could be out. Our heritage, our family all hunted down. Like my parents. Just because of this stupid scientific experement. I feel the tears welling up, hot tried tears, but they have to time to run down my cheeks. No time to think any futher. The words are caught in my throat as I am pushed against the blue spekled door to one of the cubicals. The three long mirrors behind me are tainted with make up, and in the typical fashion toilet roll is strewn all over the floor, tinged with lipgloss and foundation.
One of my hands leaps intinktivly to the knife in my belt, yep. I think to myself, you never know when you are going to need a steel tipped knife. Well, maybe now…?
"What are you doing here, if the rest of them get so much as a wiff of you!" her eyes look at me fiercly, well I guess I wasn't expecting a boy in here, it is the girls toilets. I swiftly yank my arms free, the blade of my knife tickling as I pushed against the base of my back, leaving a few missmached scrapes. I refuse to smile as the knife is brought into view. Her face says it all, the mirror shows me all to, a hooded girl wilding an 8 inch long knife…in a school toilet. Classy. Wishing I didn't have my contact lenses in, just so I could scare her futher.
She isn't backing away, she stands in the center of the room. I hopethe door is locked, and no one can hear us. This girl however seems pretty sure we wouldn't be, interupted, in our little 'conversation'.
Her eyes where a rich chocolate brown that matched her rib length hair. Or so I guessed, it was strung up in a neat ponytail on the top of her head, it gave her a kind of wild look. The way she stood reay for attack, it looked instinktual. The braid that ran from the left side of her head into the hairband topped it off.
I gulped, hoping for some reason I wouldn't have to hurt this personBut why? All of the people I have had to stand infront of to erase all thoughts of unveiling our kind. The lives I have unwreathed to stich mine back together. Though a little uneatly.
" If who gets a wiff of me?" I ask confused, but hold my guard.
"The rest of my pack, this is our territory, and your tresspassing." She growls. She acctualy growls,I mean who does that? I hold back a giggle before she flashes her eyes. How?
I carfuly slip the knife back into its holder, wary of her confidance. Me feet slide to grip the floor. I am slightly irked by the flashing light. I look to the girl, her eyes turning an even more bitter yellow. "you need to leave, listen to me." I blink, mesmorised. I wan't to show her I understand, but how can I if I have no clue what she is saying. With a practiced movement I remover the contacts. The soft grey of my original eyes not to be replaced by the usual yellow like this brown haired midget- I giggled, she was short. Like shoulder hight short- But to be replaced by silver…? I try to hide my shock, but runnig to the mirror in the way I did, I think she might have just got the message.
"why do I need to leave? Just because my eyes are yellow…usualy.." I mumble the last part. She takes her fist and balls it around the metirail on my jumper under my neck.
"We all know what you are. You can't hide anything from us. Just take your pack and leave, this is dangerous for us all, not just you and me but all of our kind." Ok im not usualy gobsmaked, but I am pretty sure my chin just hit the floor. I glare, quite unsurely at this girl infront of me. She couldn't be suggesting that she was like me, right? Despite her firm grip on the neck of my jumper, I manage to escape her gaze, escape the eyes that she stairs at me with. Yellow eyes…
"What am I then?" Im not onehundred percent sure of if I do want to know the answer, but It would be comforting to have a grasp of and idea of her mircaculous theory? What does she think I am, a vampire? I can feel my arms pulsing angrily, the tough winding road of problems ahead of me just taking yet another u-turn. I feel my viens exploding with pressure. Tingling opressing my body, and the thundering pain on my gums is lit, and riddled with with fire, or that's what it feels like, behind the numb pins and needles feeling spreading like the black death. "What am I" snarling I rip myself from her grip, hands buzzing angrily, waiting to fire some kind of foucused electristy at the short girl.
"you are telling me you don't know? Why would I believe you?" her eyes have softened a little,but onlya little. I honestly have no idea what she is talking about, and I think she can tell by the look on my face. Her eyes gleam, a little more like the sun than the bitter rotten squash colour she displayed previously. I look down at her slightly, considering I am about a third of a head traller than this girl.
"Look, I have no idea what you are talking about, and even if I was whatever you think I am, I can't go anywhere, its not my choice that I am here. So just lay off ok?" I turn away, not wanting to see the emotion or rage on her face, I hate guilt, it destroyes people, and I just can't face it. Knowing I created it. Its strange, having to be such a strong person,what if I hadden't had this life, And been forced into pushing people away, I wonder sometimes what kind of person I would be. I know I would be a better, and definatly more trustworthy figure.
I feel like turning around and watching her expressinon, It would be like facing my fears. But I am too weak in that way, never being able to deal with it. Not since they died. Then a hand slithers its way around my wrist, its warm, but still feels the same temperature as mine.
"how old are you?" my brows furrow in confusion, as I am spun to face her, her eyes have settled back to there normal hue, her firm grip on my wrist remains. Looking down I gather my thoughs. Holding back a growl I force myself to look her in the eye. "fourteen," I shudder, her eyes widen noticeably. "what is it too you?" im supprising myself, acctualy talking to another person. Its completely unorthadox for me.
"Its, well. Your not human." She whispers in my ear, its nothing I don't know. I had a blood test once, to ensure I was who I was said to be. When I trained to protect myself after my family died. They never showed me the results. But I was well aware that I wasn't your adverage seven year old by the way they gazed at me with a slightly concerned and scared look. I knew I was never normal, the perculiar electrisity stuff just proved that fact.i don't want to admit it too her, but I also fail horribly at acting to look supprised. Run out of the room, that is all I want to do, but I am pretty sure the door is locked, locked and inascapeable. The smell of the toilets threatens to choke me. "Your like me, your like me…" the realisation anddouwhere no to o unexpected. Its more unexpected for me to find some one who I can relate too, since im not of good ternms with my sister…ever.
Fear erupts, fear that someone else has had to deal with this, deal with the days of just wanting it to all go away. I raise my arm, bones clicking uncomfortably, my whole being still overwhelmed by the pins and needles or fire, and other stuff. I spread out my hand, liquid silver viens coating my palm like cobwebs. A small tennisball sized purplish orb of energy twirls over my outspread fingers. Something flashes before my eyes.
Buring fire,leaping from every conrne. Everything frozen in a merciless inferno. The wood is screaming, doors yelling out for help, nothing matters, just the adrenilin courcing through my body. I reach for my sisters hand. Fire welling up and surging throuyellow eyes glowing brighter end brighter, exept this was the first time they had ever been yellow. A glimpse of my sisters pale blond hair as I push her though the window. A voice calls out from another room, not calling for help. But telling me to run to leave, to live. " go, get out of here" I knew that voice all to well, it was the one that comforted me,in the future itr would be the one to haunt me. I ran, fear and my mothers voice urging me to go the other way, to leave. But I couldn't go, not without trying, the doors beltched flames. I got one glimpse of them alive that day. Holding on to eachother to tightly, with true sadness in there eyes. They did not recoil at the day of there death, they were sad, for us. But then the guns went, five bullets as big as grapes flew at them at a terribe speed. After that I awoke, an ambulance screaming in the background, breathing out smoke, tears running down my face. The little girl who for weeks after wouldn't stop feeling the guilt.
I shiver, the memorys weakening me. Another pre flashes past. A little girl with black hair, burring her face in her hands. Alone in the corner, her sister galring at her with such rage her eyes gleamed red like rubys. But the black haired gril just rocked back and forth muttering to herself. I let you die. Over andf over, believeing it was true. That little girl was me. All my life I hacve been sitting in that corner, alone ad laughted at. I look up to the borwn haired girl, solomly, with tears in my eyes.
"are you really like me? Did you watch your family die!? Did you just stand there to young and useless to do anything about it?" I search her eyews for the answer. "I thought not. because your not like me, your not a freak your normal, you can walk around and look normal, think you are normal, live a normal life and do normal things, but for me, the day I let them die, I became a monster." I trust my fist into the wall, making the lights flicker, and the current of the electics run through me. "I don't deserve to be alive" I shout, who cares if I can hear the gasps of people who are listening to that line outside. I deserve to be ridiculed.
"I'm not like you. Im one of the lucky ones wit family, and a pack." She whispers the last half,about now I guessing that's why she is so secretive. "so you know you are not human, how are you not." She looks at me, not like the hostile person I first saw but im guessing as a friend?
"I don't know. Evr since the day my parents died my eyes have been yellow, like yours. There is this strange electrisity thing, and that about sums me up." yep, I think to myself, lame humor sure does get you somewhere, wheather is good or not is another matter. I look in the mirror, normal eyes for the first time in seven years. The way I have felt for all these years of that moment. My sister has been following me since that specific date in time, spying on my life with those blood red eyes, and I just can shake of thet that I feeling that I am being juged in every thing I do. Having some one watching every decicion I make, and trust me its not a nice feeling.
I edge towards her caustiously, looking a litte uncomfortable, and I really don't blame myself in this situation
"What am i? tell me? Because I am pretty sure you understand more than I ever will." I hang me head in sham, I feel like I have just been caught drawing on the walls like I did as a littlie. Is obvious its going to happen, the end of second break bell goes, signaling that I am due to go to my next lesson. Leaving this subject in a pretty akward place.
"nows not the time. Meet us on the school field after your last lesson." With that she leaves.
I wander of to music like a good little dog. Not wanting to stand out more than a flea, but some how managing to be noticed like there was a massive flashing sign over my head, with the word loser pulsating in neon colours.
Earlyer the words had been caught on my tongue, held back in a breathe that I dare not enhale. My heart had swam in my throat like that day that seem to be many foggy laced years ago in my memory. As I sat, I attempted to untwine the memorys. But all I could do is somehow counger up a larger pounding head ache than the one that already plagued my thoughts. Hazy memorys, smuged, and congeled. It feels like claws ripping at my temples, hammers thrusting there way through my skull. Ripping open my skin, and setting my nerves on fire…the only explenation I can form is I am going crazy. Yep. Definatly out of my mind.
My chair locks me into place, refusing stubbonly to let me drift away from the world that tethers me to this uncertanty. The teacher mumbles something impossible to dicipher, as I flip my hood back into place over my head. Good trusty hoodie, a smile threatens to etch itself upon my lips. I ward it off, letting myself dwell in my confusion.
lol, so many mistakes, will go through them, bare with, bare with...