Digging through the pile of worn, second-hand school books, I eventually caught sight of my history book. Fishing it out of

my locker, I slammed the metal door shut and tried not to think about the enormous essay we had been set. Five pages on

the effects of World War I. I died a little inside.

Bracing the oncoming crowd of rowdy students desperate to leave the building, I arrived outside Mr Dalton's classroom

door, rather breathless.

Pushing it open, I strolled inside.

"I'm not going to hang around all day for a lift, James-" I started. A dozen faces turned towards me. Mr Dalton swore under

his breath.

"Darren! I'm sorry, I completely forgot to tell you about the staff meeting", he glanced at his watch, "If you want to hang

around for half an hour or so?".

"It's... okay, I'll walk", I stammered. I felt my face reddening after referring him to his first name, even though he insisted that

I should. I quickly backed out of the room, walked calmly out the main doors and darted across the school grounds.

The grey sky rumbled and rain began to pour viciously from above. I ducked sideways into an alleyway. The dirty brickwork

did very little to shelter me and broken glass cracked under my feet. A blinking street lamp shone dimly about twenty metres

ahead. Pulling my damp hood up, I walked hurriedly through the narrow alley. Cold air rushed down my spine and the hairs

on the back of my neck stood straight. Stopping, I dug my phone out of my pocket, finger inches from the emergency call

button. I heard the tinkle of glass breaking close behind me. Whipping my head around, I squinted into the darkness.

Quickening my pace, I half ran towards the street lamp. My breath was coming out in pants and my pulse beat madly in my

veins. A hand clamped down on my shoulder, halting me. I threw my arms up in front of my face. I felt energy drain from

my body. The ache in my muscles increased with every second that passed. I knew I wasn't making it out of this alley, alive

anyway. I let my arms sink to my side and raised my head to look into my killer's eyes.

"Darren"

He raised the corner of his mouth into a half smile, wrinkling the scar that traced down the side of his face.

"Mr Crepsl-", His name caught in my throat. The phone slipped from my shaking hand. Neither of us looked down.

He took at step forward.

"Come now, let us go. The sun may be gone for the moment but I do not wish to push my luck".

I backed up against the wall.

"I can't", I whispered.

"I don't understand". His confusion was almost as strong as my fear of his reaction as I choked the following,

"I don...n't want to go with you".

His face became expressionless. Backing away from me, he raked his fingers through his orange hair and bowed his head.

"If that is what you want". His voice trembled.

I moved towards him.

"Mr Crepsley...", I begged. The stern look in his eyes cut me off.

Grabbing my wrist, he placed something in my hand. My skin burned pleasurably at his touch. He pulled away instantly.

"Do not forget what you are", He growled and melted into the shadows.

Opening my hand, a glass vial full of blood lay against my palm. With stringing eyes, I flung the vial at the opposite brick

wall. The glass shattered and crimson blood showered down. I threw my fists at the wall, then slumped to my knees, tears

streaming down my cheeks.