Ominous

Chapter 3.

My mind goes from the story we've been assigned to read for class, back to the events of this morning. Thoughts of what those small little pieces meant in the whole scheme of things drift through my mind. The car looked like it was being lived in or something, now that I think about it. A large comforter was peeking out of the window, looking as if it'd been thrown back from someone sleeping there.

But, most of all, the condition was strange. It was rusted out, like to the point that it probably couldn't or shouldn't have been moved. But, it wasn't there before. Then again, it could have been a drifter. People have been getting laid off in some of the other cities around here.

"Miss Raven-Wing, please get back to work." Briefly I look up to the teacher as his eyes move back to the paper sitting in front of him. He takes a sip of coffee and I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. Maybe you should be working too.

When I try to look back at the story — which I hadn't even begun to read — I almost jump when my eyes land on the picture of a large black cat. My heart beat ticks up as the image of the cat from the alleyway comes into mind. It looked so raggedy and its trot was harsh, like it was running with a limp.

I shake my head and return my attention back to the story, "The Black Cat." At least it's better that other stuffy old novel that I could barely follow half the time.

Too bad I'd have to go back to reading that other book before the end of the hour. It would have been wonderful if we'd taken the time to discuss the Black Dog Murders. Not even my previous period — a history class — bothered to mention it. What is that about? Are they trying not to alarm us. They probably figure that none of us bothers to listen to the broadcasts anyways.

There is a harsh knock at the door.

My eyes trail up to the door for a moment before moving to the clock to my left.

It isn't even 11:15 and Ms. Johnson is already at the door.

Her features are set in her signature scowl and her arms crossed over her chest as she leans on her right leg. Yet, even though she looks almost the same as usual, there is a certain anger that seems to plume off of her. I wonder what managed to piss her off like that... well more than usual.

The teacher looks up and groans as he stands from his seat and opens the door. "Hello, Ms. Johnson. What can I do for you?"

Does everyone know the police around here. I only know her because she came to complain that night that the Poltergeist first showed up... She thought it was us wrecking the place that time. Until she got looped into the chaos with us.

She nods my way. "I'll be needing to see Morrigan."

In the words of my classmates, 'Dude's got zero chill'... He's not going to let me go without some kinda fight.

Yet, as he tries to protest, a sickly sweet smile curls its way onto Ms. Johnson's features. "Association business. I'd say you should listen or my colleague will have to come and demand to see her. You wouldn't want to be charged for hindering an investigation...would you?"

The brown-haired man turns my way. "Get going. I expect you in class as soon as you're done."

I almost laugh at the way he glowers at me when I stand up from my seat.

Slowly, I shuffle out of the room with Ms. Johnson. She rolls her eyes as soon as the teacher isn't there to glare at the two of us anymore. "I hate teachers like that. You can just see the judgment on their faces," she grumbles as we walk down the steps. "Glad I didn't have to go to this place when I was a kid."