To Kill A Witch

VII

VII

Tuesday, September 22
{106 days}
Callan McQueen

Callan's vehicle hit the curb of the sidewalk, the whole car suffered from the impact, while attempting to park his Mustang in the crowded streets.

Callan had decided that he would stay in another motel the night of his arrival, mainly because he didn't want to start of bad with his new dorm mate. He didn't know the guys name yet, but he would very soon.

He killed the engine of his car and sat still. He looked from his left, to his right, then back to the middle, taking in every aspect of his surroundings.

People crowded the streets in bundles, and there was trash illegally dispersed on all inches of the ground.

His new home in Larson City, was a ransack, a giant dumpster, an overpopulated dump. Yet the repulsive remorse he felt for the city, was washed away, while his heart swelled tremendously.

This new city was his home, every hobo, and every piece of rotten trash. He was so warmed by this place. Not just because he had never lived in a big city before, but because there were so many things he could do here. So many things he could accomplish. He could volunteer community service, and that was something that looked good in any record.

Callan didn't do charity occasions often, but he did make an effort of contributing a few extra bucks that he could spare. It was just enough to make him feel like he was helping; he wasn't selfish with his money. In things like helping the needy, a Big Mac paled in comparison, and Callan was more than a fan of the Big Mac.

He looked up toward his rear view mirror, and the dangling of the mysterious ring from a piece of dental floss caught his peripheral.

His eyes fell back to the ring, the gem in the center gleaming in pronounced glory. He was completely attracted, his eyes were glued to the object reciting his name; or so it seemed.

Callan could resist the temptation any longer, he reached for the ring and firmly gripped it within his palm. He jerked the string down from his review mirror until the knot gave up on the right loop binding the floss together.

his eyes reflected the ring, without a thought Callan slipped it onto his right hands ring finger. The glow that once shined brightly, now was un-bedazzled or charmed; and the ring ramained limp and heavy on his finger.

Though he had been wanting to prove himself wrong, now that he'd finally let his nerves settle and his courage plummet, he has been let down.

Callan let out a sigh of annoyance, he then unbuckled his seat belt. He rushed his hands through his thick black hair multiple times.

After a day of driving he was not ready for the scheduled tour of Dellard University. A university famous for it über clean dorms. Callan was one for cleanliness; you almost say he hated filth, or anything of that nature. His mother had always kept his home spotless, he barley remembered what a dirty dish looked like.

So seeing these streets full of filth was a whole new experience. The streets of his home town were always clean, for the towns people conspired once a month to gather and clean up the roads.

Callan looked down at his silver wristwatch; it had been a gift from his father and he was never seen without it weighing down his wrist.

He checked the time and realized he had seven minutes to get the the central of Dellard, a very scarce amount if minutes.

Callan leaned over the seat and squirmed for the glove box, he pushed the button and pulled it open. He quickly grabbed the campus map and open his car door.

A shrapnel shrilled scream coursed the walk and Callan face turned the color of snow. His eyes loomed the scene; a girl, well woman sat on her butt. Her cheeks red as the ruby of his ring. He was mortified and she was obviously embarrassed.

"Oh jeez, I'm so sorry," Callan scarfed out. The womans blush deepened.

"It's okay, really it is. I get hit by car doors all the time!" Her comment came from such an innocent and sweet voice, yet Callan was confused as to rather she was joking or being serious.

He watched her struggle to get to her feet and attempt to keep her deep maroon skirt to remain where it should. Callan could now feel the heat rising to his paled face, because the woman was looking at Callan with a spiteful look.

Her struggling was a hint and Callan didn't catch it until she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Oh here, let me help." Callan easily pulled on her dainty arms until she gracefully rose to her feet.

"No I'll get it," the woman smacked her hands against her legs to dust the dirt from her skirt. Callan reached down a gathered her items. He carefully stacked them and then held them up to be reached a tape recorder and notebook on top.

Callan's eyes took her in as she smoothed her blouse out aflu shimmied her skirt back to her waist line. She wore very modest clothingand had the most penetrating emerald eyes that would make a man stop and double take the scene. Her hair reached her shoulders and laid poised and fluffy in a volumized chestnut shade. her skin had an enticing glow, it beamed a perfect shade of cream with er cheeks braised brown from the sun.

When Callan had looked at her face, he came to suddenly realize that that was where the true beauty of this woman was. Callan wasn't one to freeze up at the sight of an attractive woman, but that didn't necessarily mean he was overcome with the feeling I rejection. Just like any other teenaged boy, he always got clammy hands before asking a girl out on a date.

"Thank you," she sweetly replied and retrieved her belongings. Callan's face now held a dumbstruck look, he did have words.

"My names Noel, Noel Quinn." she offered her hand out to Callan, who rushed his hands out to meet hers. He didn't want to risk losin the chance to be able to touch her.

A hand shake was all it usually took to start a friendship, and that's exactly what Callan needed. Someone to know, considering he knew no one here, he wanted her to be the first person he met.

"Er, Callan McQueen," he nervously strained.

Noel purses her lips together, like she had something to say but no way to say it.

"I hate to asked you this, because you seem to be in a hurry. But do you happen to be new; to this university I mean?" her eyes sparkled from the suns rays, which contrasted her desperate need for the answer she so desperately needed.

Callan redirected his weight to the opposite foot as before, then nervously jammed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, I actually am."

A smile beamed across her features. Callan mirrored her expression like it was as contagious as the flu.

"Oh awesome! Could I please interview you for the local paper within the next few days?" she pleaded with the fluttering of her eyelashes.

"Anyone in there right mind would say yes to this opportunity!" Callan thought.

"Sure," he replied, droning out each vowel.

In her admiration, Noel's cheeks deepened revealing a minor dimple on her left cheek.

"Here, and thank you so much Callan," she held out a pink business card. But Callan was still dazed by here excruciatingly amazing voice.

"Callan?" the voice he would compared to an angels song. Callan bobbed his head up, trying to hide the embarrassment lashing amongst his cheeks.

"Thanks," he murmured grabbing the card from her grasp.

He held the card between his twin fingers and gave it a noticable wave,

"Thanks," he spoke again.

And with nothing further to say between the two he turned and walked down the sidewalk.

"Thank you," she replied to his back.

Callan almost felt like dancing down the sidewalk, but he also felt like kicking himself. But heck, he knew first impression didn't mean anything