Finally a chapter from Randall's POV. Enjoy and review!!
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Randall growled irritably and pounded his fist on his wall.
That damn girl!
Why had she interfered??
He looked down at the crusty, dark red lines across his wrist and inner forearm and snorted in disgust; his father was bound to notice and beat the hell out of him for it.
He put his headphones on and sat down at his shabby little desk, numerous burn marks and gouges on the surface and began doing some stupid homeowrk on human history.
That damnable girl... why did she have to interfere?? He knew perfectly well what he was doing... yet there was such an open, curious expression on herface, he was almost sure she had had no idea what he had intendded to do. But how could anyone who lived in the city be so stupid?
Maybe she isn't from around he thought to himself, doodling idly on his paper.
He didn't have any idea how right he was. In fact, as it turned out, she couldn't have been from farther away.
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Shortly after he finished his homework, and after he had made his own dinner in the mcirowave (his father asleep on the couch amidst a mountain of chip wrappers, beer and soda cans and junk food) the doorbell rang.
"Who the hell-?" he wondered aloud. He hastily pulled the ratty sleeves of his 5-year old shirt down over the scabs on his arm and opened the front door, which was falling off its hinges.
It was her. And of all the strange and random things, she was holding a secondhand-looking tray piled high with cookies.
"Hi," she said a tad shyly, and he took in her appearance once more.
She wore a deep purple kniot top that blended well with her light teal skin and a clean skirt that reached her knees. She had a reptillian stance, her face was cute and shaped sort of like his, but her eyes were wide, green and set into her skull. She h adn't done anything to her hair; it remained down her waist in untamed waves and knots. He supposed she would be pretty if she would stop giving him that inquiring look and stopped trying to be nice to him. She moved her wings, making a pained face, and he saw that her left one was in some sort of bandage near the tip.
"Can I come in?" she asked, gesturing with her chin to the plate of cookies. Randall couldn't believe this. A girl wanted to actually aknowledge his existence?
He spared a glance at his father and the thought of what he would do if he woke up to find his son alone in a room with an unknown girl made him stop and think.
"Outside. Come on... I have a fort," he admitted a bit shyly; he had made that fort years ago and only went in there when he really needed to get away.
"Um... ok," she said, and she stepped back off the dilapidated porch to let him outside. It wasn't as cold as it had been the day before, but it was windy. It took the three fronds on his head and bopped him on the side of the neck with them; it tore through the girl's hair and made her look like a goddess in a painting, only she wasn't as godly-looking. The couldy gray sky seemed to make her skin look... more vibrant, though. Blue-er... strange, he thought. Maybe she was a chameleon like him, just more subtle.
He led her around to his backyard, such as it was. It was nothing more than a chain link fence covered in matted, creeping vines and tangled weeds that almost obscured vision through the chain links. His "fort" was actually just a small, knocked-together shack on the ground, the wood starting to rot and splinter. It smelled like dank wood, but at least it cut out some of the wind. And it was quiet.
"Uh... sorry about the other day. I made you some cookies... I just didn't get any sleep or they'd be a bit better," said the girl. She was about 3 inches taller than he was, but then, he wasn't going to be very tall; he'd only grown an inch in the last year and he was already 18.
She sat on one of the shabby benches he'd erected when he was 15 and took the plastic wrap off the tray of cookies and set them down beside her. Randall caught a hint of chocolate and brown sugar. His mother used to make cookies like that...before she died. He would not think about that now. Not now.
"Uh... thanks. For the cookies," he stammered. He took one and bit a chunk out of it; they were actually pretty good. Brown sugar, chocolate chips and a bit of oatmeal. They were still warm.
"Just done," she admitted.
Neither one of them knew quite what to say about the other day's event; the scabs on his arm lay as evidence. Finally, he broke the silence.
"What happened the other day was nothing... I... I've just been wierd lately," he admitted, rubbign the scales on the back of his neck; the skin there was starting to peel. He would shed soon, and he would be allowed to stay home for a day until he was done.
"It wasn't nothing, kid. You had a scalpel! What the hell were you trying to do?" she exploded, her curious demeanor giving way to a fierce teenage girl. She bared sharp, pointed fangs the size and shape of needles and he finally understod; she wasn't reptillian; she was aquarian. A water monster minus the fins and gills. He could have laughed at himself for thinking her reptillilan, but then, they weren't that far apart on the evolutionary chain.
He growled. What business of this was hers, anyway?? A girl whos name he didn't even know asking him about his life?!
"What the hell do you think I was trying to do? I was trying to leave, to get out of here, to go out! I hate this life, I hate myself, I hate school, I don't want to be home with my lousy worthless father anymore, or be tormented bgy the nightmares of my mother dying or -" he stopped raving; he hadn't meant to mention his nightmares. He had lost his temper.
The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, looking at him a bit closer.
"My name is Magda Britain. I live out on Bracknell road, apartment b6. In case you'd like to know," she said. She got to her feet and left him sitting there, still holding half a cookie.
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Hope u liked it, please review!!!!