Zane
The sun rose outside my window. But I couldn't concentrate.
I only thought of what had happened earlier today, but I couldn't remember a single thing!
The last thing I remembered of the day was that I looked in a mirror and saw the handprint on my cheek, the handprint that I had washed away two weeks ago. It was hers, I was absolute positive it was. I had Ivas' handprint on my cheek, but why?
The weirdest thing was that it wasn't the color it had been the last time I saw it – the color of Ivas' lifeblood – this print was the same color of the Crescent Moon in my forehead.
But it wasn't only the hand print that was odd. It was as if my Mark had stretched down in a new print, embracing the handprint as a part of it. Like my Mark had gotten bigger, almost like the Vampires'.
As I studied the new extension to my simple Mark, I could see something happening. I didn't know how, but it was as if my Mark moved.
The Crescent Moon on my forehead stayed still, but veins with spines on them reaches out and embraced the Moon, before they wandered down my cheeks and temples and circled 'round the handprint.
I shook my head in disbelief. This wasn't happening; I was just too tired to think straight.
The sun shone outside my window, but it still rained. Humans were in school or at their jobs. I should most definitely be asleep right now. Slowly I lay down in my bed and closed my eyelids.
But it was as if I got wide awake as soon as I prepared for sleeping.
It tickled in the skin on my face. I decided I would do what I usually did when I couldn't sleep. I would read.
Slowly I reached out to the top drawer in my side-table and took the Diary in my hands. As I leaned back in my bed I stroke the covers of the pink book. I saw the curl of fire-red hair at the end of the book and slowly opened the book at the very page.
Her words hit me like a punch in the face. "Bye," I whispered as the tears filled my vision and made me unable to see. I wanted to scream out loud, letting everyone know the pain I was in, but I just couldn't. My throat was thick and I felt like I couldn't breathe.
Instead of staring blankly at the page that hurt so badly, I browsed to the page I was at, leaving the strand of red hair at the far end.
"Dear Diary.
Today was awful! I couldn't do anything else than staring at them. Ugh, I seriously need to get a grip! Sigh, he won't ever notice me. I'm pathetic. But strangely enough someone actually noticed me. It was that Michael guy. I don't really know why, but he came forth to talk to me. He said hi and asked me for my name and such. I really don't know why. Maybe he likes me? Get a grip girl! That's not possible! I'm laughing at myself right now. Leslie must think I'm crazy. But still. There's something 'bout Michael, something that makes him trustworthy. Maybe I could talk to him? We could be friends, right? That would be a great start, wouldn't it?"
I felt the sleep get a grip on me. And suddenly I was too tired to do anything. My eyelids shut before I was able to put the Diary on the nightstand.
The sleep was worried. It was as if I was wide awake and dead asleep at the same time. I don't exaggerate while saying that I threw myself back and forth.
I was dreaming about her. About Iva.
But she wasn't the girl that she once was. She looked completely different but yet exactly the same.
Her fire-red curls flowed down her back. They reached her hip. Her beautiful green eyes were lit by the moon. She wore the black T-shirt with the text on, the one that's been missing from my room, and a pair of light jeans. The fabrics embraced her thin body and made sure you could see her wonderful features.
Her Crescent Moon looked so unlike the one she had had when she died that it was amazing. The Moon was still there, but it was filled in, extended with a complicated pattern of roses, veins and stitches. But the most unlike with her tattoo was the color. It wasn't the same. This Moon had the color of Silver, and when I saw her sit there – on the school wall – in the moonlight, I swear I could see it sparkle. And yet, there was more. The patterns moved!
I stood there, in front of her, unable to move. I just stared. I couldn't speak; it was nearly that I couldn't breathe. Seeing her sit there, looking like an angel, made me want to scream in pure happiness and yet cry in miserable of what she had become.
'Cause she surely wasn't herself.
Okay, sorry for the super-bad update, but gosh, let's just say I've been dead. xd
Haha, but seriously, I haven't updated in like, what... three-four months?
My appologies dear people, but here was the seventh chapter of my House of Night Fanfic! :D
Review and let me know what you think! :3
~Kim
