Post by X on Nov 18, 2009 20:56:21 GMT -8
It's nameless right now. xD Suggest names to me, PLEASE!
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1
Everything was pitch black. There was a pain in my stomach, as if I hadn’t eaten in days. I was on my hands and knees. I could tell I was on a hardwood floor similar to the one in my house. Suddenly, I felt a sharp kick to my side and I heard a cry of pain escape my lips. Then again, it wasn’t my voice, my lips, or my body. I didn’t control myself here. I didn’t feel so much as I sensed, like how you usually can’t feel things in dreams. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. I started having these dreams—or nightmares, rather—when I was ten or so. I have not told anybody about it, nor do I plan to. It was like I recapped the day of this person—I still don’t know who, since every time I hear her name or see her reflection, I forget when I wake up—every night in my sleep. And let me tell you, this person’s life sucked. But I wouldn’t go into that because the person obviously didn’t exist and was just something my mind made up.
“You’re so weak!” a presence standing over my dream person roared. “Don’t act as if this hurts! The pain will only get worse. I’m helping you, child!” The presence was a man. I recognized his voice from my other dreams. Now, there was a kick to this person’s stomach from the man. I felt ‘myself’ roll onto my side and curl into a tight ball, gritting ‘my’ teeth and held back hot tears.
“Forgive me! I’m sorry!” ‘I’ shouted. The only response ‘I’ received was a cold laugh and a kick to the head. It didn’t seem possible, but everything was going darker than before, as if I was blacking out.
I woke, then, to find the sun shining in through my big window and to realize, as I did every morning, that I was not only devoid of any pain, but also—unfortunately—quite wide awake and ready to get out of my comfy queen-sized bed. I glanced at my clock and sighed. Despite how bright it was outside, it was only six twenty-seven. I groaned and kicked my floral-patterned covers off of my body, rolling out of bed. My feet hit the redwood floor and I stood up. I stepped over clothing strewn around my room, making my way to my large dresser. I got out of my pajamas, putting on some socks, black jeans, and a scarlet, long-sleeved Aeropostale shirt with pale red snowflakes smattered randomly all over it. I put on some pink-tinged pearl earrings and brushed and straightened my dirty blonde hair. After putting some black mascara on my pale lashes and applying some lip gloss to—what else?—my lips, I slipped into my black converse and left my pale green bedroom. I walked through the hall and down the softly carpeted stairs, making my way to the kitchen to eat breakfast.
Before long, I was ready to go. Daddy drove me to school in his silver Toyota Corolla. I got out and met my friend Cecillia—aka CC—outside the building. We walked in together, talking about what happened over the weekend even though we had already chatted a lot over the phone during the break.
I go to a big school in Pasco, Washington called McLoughlin High School. It has two floors and is very, very long. The floors are made of either white tiles or carpet—it depends on which room you’re in. Usually, you’ll see that boringly sky-blue and peeling walls are lined with rust-colored lockers occupied by the student-body. The walls are colored a pale blue. Cecillia and I parted ways after our lockers. While she had science, I had to go to algebra. My science class wasn't until the second-to-last period of the school day.
The hours passed fairly quickly, as they usually did in school when you were too busy daydreaming, talking to friends, and texting to pay attention to the teachers and their incredibly boring lectures. Before very long, it was lunch time. Today, they were serving pizza. As I filled my tray with food, I noticed that the table where Cecillia and I usually sat was full. So were many other tables. I internally cursed my annoyingly strict history teacher. He had made Cecillia and I stay in for an extra ten minutes since we’d been caught passing notes. Somehow, CC had managed to squeeze into a seat at the table next to a boy named Tony Scotts.
“Hey, CC,” I called when I spotted a mostly empty table. “I’m gonna sit over there, ‘kay?”
She smiled at me. “Okay, Rachelle. I’m staying here—that alright with you?”
I nodded, grinning. Tony Scotts was this guy she’d been crazy about since sixth grade, and I was not going to make her move, especially when it was so totally obvious that he liked her back.
I made my way over to the table. There was only one person there—a guy. I felt a spark of familiarity for some reason, but ignored it, giving him a mere glance before sitting down.
“Hey,” I said.
The guy mumbled something I couldn’t decipher. It was probably an awkward greeting. I started on my lunch, making the mistake of looking up at the same time as he did.
Instead of a simple feeling of familiarity, there was the overwhelming sense that I knew this person. There was literally some sort of force similar to static electricity between us. I swear I heard a crackle or two. My eyes locked with his. They were so weird! The orbs were black, with a blood-red ring around the pupil. They were absolutely captivating.
When I looked up from my untouched, dry, hastily-made ham sandwich, my eyes locked with hers. They held a purity in them that could almost be considered angelic. They were a pale blue similar to the sky. There was a sparkly gold ring around her pupils that reminded me of an eclipse of some dark force against the heavens. I swiftly glanced away, though, my auburn bangs obscuring my darkened eyes. I quickly began to pick my unappetizing sandwich apart.
“Did you feel that?” she asked me. I stiffened, then flashed her an almost condescending smirk and masked my eyes with misunderstanding.
"Feel what?“ I asked, sounding confused even though, in reality, I knew exactly what she meant. I felt a connection. She must be the girl that Marcus was trying to find, which meant it would be safest for her if she had no idea what she was.
I watched her blush, shake her head and say “Never mind,” and look down to her food.
The awkward lunch was soon over and I left the table immediately, gathering my books and walking to my science class. I took a seat at one of the two-person counters near the back.
Before long, everyone had gathered into the room.
“All right, guys,” said the teacher, Ms. Cameron. “I’m giving you all new partners for class today.”
The students all groaned theatrically around me and the teacher laughed, pulling out a chart.
“Rachelle Evans,” the teacher said. “Move over to sit with…” she glanced down at the paper. “Alex… F-F-ow-rs.”
“It's pronounced like force,” I corrected her, sounding more irritated than I’d meant to.
“Sorry,” Ms. Cameron said politely, giving me a nice smile. With that, I dug into my pockets and pulled out my gloves. If I accidentally touched her bare skin with my hand, something horrible could happen. So I put the gloves on and waited for my new partner to get over to me desk.
I looked up when she sat down in the chair beside me. When I saw who this ‘Rachelle Evans’ person was, the only thing I was able to think was, Oh, no! Nother!
Oh, no! Nother!
I heard the thought in my head, but it didn’t sound like my ‘voice’. That was weird, but I shrugged it off. Besides, Alex was not a ‘her’. He was the guy I had been sitting with at lunch.
“So your name’s Rachelle?” he asked, sounding almost timid.
“Mmhm. And you’re Alex?” I asked, sounding incredibly non-shy. He wasn’t cute. He looked almost feminine, actually; what with long, dark eye lashes and delicate frame. If it weren’t for his voice—which was low and scratchy as if he was losing his voice—I probably would have thought he was a girl with short hair.
He ran a hand through his dark auburn hair and turned away from me, as if bored. He most have noticed I was staring.
The first project we’ll be doing this trimester will be growing a plant,” Ms. Cameron said enthusiastically.
“Yes!” I whispered under my breath. I heard Alex groan despairingly beside me. But I was extremely happy about this. I’m really good when it comes to growing things. My mom always told me I had a green thumb, and I definitely agree.
“I have several flower seeds, and some veggie seeds like potatoes and tomatoes. You and your partner will work together to grow the plant. Whichever team’s plant dies last, that team will win two giant candy bars.”
“We’ll win,” I told Alex excitedly.
“Don’t be so sure,” he told me, seeming sullen, almost.
I rolled my eyes. He was gonna be ‘fun’.
Ms Cameron came around with seeds. I asked Alex what he wanted—all he did was shrug and make an uninterested grunt.
“Any kind of flower,” I decided.
“How about Four O’ Clocks?” Ms. Cameron suggested.
“Why’re they called that?” I asked.
“They bloom in the evening, around four o’ clock PM, and close sometime in early morning, probably around four AM. Hence the name.”
“Cool,” I said, smiling. She chuckled and handed me the packet of seeds before moving on to the next counter. I went up to the front of the class and grabbed a pot full of soil. I went back to the counter and set it down in front of the both of us.
“Well?” I asked.
“What?” Alex asked me.
“Are you going to help me plant the seed or what?” I demanded. My patience was short with him already. He was awfully annoying.
“Last time I checked, planting a seed wasn’t all that difficult,” Alex replied demeaningly. I glared and rolled my eyes, picking up the packet of seeds.
“Just make the hole while I open the packet,” I snapped in irritation.
Alex rolled his eyes right back and stuck his finger into the soil and moving it around a bit, making a nice hole. He moved his hand and I put a few seeds in. He brushed dirt over them, almost as if being careful not to touch them or something, even though there was little chance of that happening. He was definitely a strange person. Maybe even a freak. But I wasn’t going to judge him. It’s not like you ever know what someone’s going through in their mind, anyway. Though he was definitely not somebody I’d willingly get along with.
The teacher talked to us for most of the rest of class, going over how we should take care of our plants. But then the bell rang, signaling the end of the second to last class.
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