We stared at each other, abreast from one another. "What?' I asked. "the fuck do you mean Belos could be comig back?" I asked distraughtfully. "Dude's dead. Muerte." I informed him. He sighed. "I keep having visions though... Maybe he will, but maybe he will not. But it's bad that I keep having these dark, disturbing visions of his return. Chanelle Noceda, you must be prepared. There is a tool that can help ou if he does return..." the little boy continued. I leaned in. "What the fuck is it?" I asked, my smoky breath hitting his face. "The Shileaghlie of Time..." "A shileaghlie?Like an Irish walking stick?" he nodded. "You are destinied to have it... But it is a risky tool, one that the titan king split into parts after making. The first piece will reveal itself to you on your 18th birthday. You must collect all the pices so you can be prepared if Belos returns.
He then got up, and began walking away. "Remember, you must never forget this! Find the Shileagie of Time, Chanelle Noceda-Blight! Find the Shileaglie of Time!" he called meticulously,walking then floating into the canopy and disappearing. "That was really weird" I said to myself. But I couldn't help but wonder if what he said was true. Then, the bell rang; Time for second pepriod. I finished off my cigarette, and rejoined the others. I decided not to tell them what The Collector told me.
Our next class was with Hunter. Hunters eyes were red and his nose was bleeding and he was crying. I suddenly felt empathetic towards him. Renfield came to life and whispered in my ear. "You should go ask him if he's okay. The poor whelp seems to be in pain." I nodded, and walked up to him. "Hey Hunter... are you okay?" I asked him darkly. He sniffed up his blood (nasty) and nodded. "Y-yes, e-ev-everything is... it's.. oh it's f-fine," he said, quivering. Renfield raised a vamp-ish brow. "Sir, you don't seem to be alright." He then threw himself on my shoulder and cried.
"Oh Chanelle, it's awful! One of my children is mistreating me!" he sobbed, his nose bleed dripping onto my shoulder. "I told her not to look up to my rightfully dead father, and she drove a nail up my nostril and held me down and poured salt down my eyes! My own child is aTTacking me because I don't want her to be a racist!" he wailed. I hugged him. "What a fucking bitch. Is she a student?" I asked. He quivered. "N-no... she doesn't want to be seen with her father, who... who likes... I don't want to say it. It's a slur." he said, crying. "Whisper it to me," i instructed. He then whispered a really nasty old-timey slur. It was so bad I threw up. "What the fuck?! What's her problem?!" I yelled.
Hunter fell to his knees, now weeping loudly. "I don't know! She used to be so normal and now she's becoming a bigot! It's like someone's ruining her brain!" He then went into an inconsolable sob, rolling on the floor, shaking his knees. I clenched my fist. "Maybe the collector was more right than he thought..." I whispered. Marina came up to me quickly. "What the satanic fuck is going on," she said, pointing a bony finger at our teacher. "His daughter's fucked up and evil. Come on, let's go tell the principle."