It was Friday. I was not sure if I would survive until Saturday. Thankfully, the only lessons I had today were biology, English, and finally, Physical Education. In between lunch and that last class, however, I had about two hours of free time – time which my packmates, thankfully, did not have.
To spend these hours in a fulfilling and relaxing way, I decided that going home would be the best idea. But that would affect my attendance record – which mattered to me for questionable reasons – and I apparently did not want that to happen. Instead, I opted for the only quiet option I could think of; going to lie outside in the grass.
The front of the school, where children were typically dropped off by their parents, consisted of a parking lot, an open space covered in grass, and a small eco zone, crowded with trees and a small, mosquito hot zone lake. This was all surrounded by a metal fence, outside of which was a street that led to the main road, and the beginning of the expansive forests, in which my house was hidden. In the grassy area there were also a few trees, although these were more spread out. There were also benches with picnic tables. This entire space was only accessible to the older year groups, of which I was thankfully a part of. With the sun shining, and a slight breeze in the air, I selected a tree as far from the other groups milling around outside as I could and threw my bag and subsequently myself down. I pulled out my earplugs and my phone and began playing music. The volume was not so loud that I could not hear others, but it was not so soft that I would listen in on their conversations. It was nice and temperate for an autumn day, I found, and could enjoy the gentle sunlight from beneath the tree.
What a day it had been today. And every day, honestly, since I made the horrible decision of turning up at school. Really. I was aware that I had little else to do in my life than live the creeper trope of hanging out at a high school while being a near ancient supernatural creature, but damn, was it really this bad?
The children of this day and age were so irritating to me. Apparently, Thor blended in fine. It even surprised me sometimes, how well a vampire of Annabelle's age could transform into the average garden variety teenage girl, but then again, considering what I knew about her personality...why would I let it surprise me? The whole day had been a nightmare ready to give me a headache. Word of my apparent homosexuality had spread like wildfire through the school, because really, what stands out more than a white-haired flamboyant anime boy in oversized clothes? Yeah, pretty cringe if I said so myself, honestly. Between other boys giving me weird looks, cracking gay jokes and laughing at me, and girls either looking disappointed, creeped out, or way too enthusiastic, I was just about done with everything. Having suddenly found myself in this kind of spotlight, I was missing the days when the only light I would get in my shadowy home was Rob and his displays of majestic creativity in insult generation.
So yes, perhaps loudly stating that I was not interested in girls, and in fact the direct opposite, was a bad calculation on my part. But after being around as long as I have been, I should have known I was just plain terrible at maths.
I laughed a little at myself, happy to finally feel a little bit of joy course through my body after the nonsense rollercoaster of pissed off and angry that I had been on recently. While I had taken the easy way out and just apologised, I was not happy with the fact that both Annabelle and Artemis had deluded themselves into believing that they actually deserved an apology from me. From my hazy memory of that night, I know all I was trying to do was protect Thor. From what, I was no longer sure, but my heart knew that Annabelle and Artemis were just too young, stupid, or stubborn to accept; that I would never bring harm to my closest family, if I had a say in it.
As I lay there, I tried to recall the night of the incident. What came to most was the smells. The images, the sounds – except thunder and storm – had all flown and swirled into a haze, but the smells were burned into my mind. Blood, the wet earth, the familiar scent of Thor, but tens of times stronger, and something small, something hidden amongst the fear and confusion; the smell of vanilla.
YOU ARE READING
A Pack of Misfits
FantasyWriting stories is creating a world that makes you happy, right? Well, I guess this world is what made high-school era me happy, and for that little kid, I'm rewriting it to be slightly better. At least, I hope that it is slightly better! ---- Loki...