p u r i t y

c h a p t e r 6

Beep!

The next time I woke up, I happened to be sleeping in my Honeynut cereal. My ponytail damp with milk, I rinsed it out into the sink and mentally scolded myself for falling asleep at 7am instead of 2am.

"Sweetheart, that was Lucas here to pick you up!" Dad shouted from the bathroom.

"I'm going!"

I quickly dumped my unfinished cereal onto the side, and grabbed my folders and school books. Lucas was normally my ride to school - Dad didn't drive due to his suspended license when he was involved in a serious crash 2 years ago. I was still taking lessons since I failed my last test.

I yelled a goodbye, and rushed through the front door, almost tripping over my black Nikes in the process. Lucas' old rusty truck was sat in the driveway, its engine running. I constantly teased him about the fact that he owned a truck.

A truck.

A black truck, for that matter.

Most guys his age were wizzing round town in their ferraris with their windswept hair and the radio turned up full blast. On the other hand, my boyfriend owned a vehicle that looked like a funeral hearse, only less clean.

I climbed into the passenger's side, and quickly pecked his lips. The smell of pine and strong cologne lingered in the air, which was somewhat comforting. Lucas linked his masculine fingers with mine, and began driving to school.

It was the fourth week of senior year, and the parties were constant. I wasn't a party girl, but the ones thrown by the kids at Madison High were unmissable. There was bound to be pool parties, beach parties, boat parties, and every other party in between. Although a couple of them involved strippers, body shots, and drugs, which I preferred to steer clear of, I had fun.

Madonna was pumping out of the radio, surprisingly, although I wasn't sure which song. Lucas was a real sucker for classic music. He had a collection of old records piled in his bedroom, not one of them attracting a speck of dust.

"El, you look like crap," he broke the peaceful silence when the song ended.

"Perfect," I replied. I retrieved my khaki jacket from over my satchel, and began digging through the pockets for my concealer. I'd gone with a simple grey turtleneck and white tennis skirt.

I glanced in the rear view mirror, and saw that my eyes were sunken and hollow, and my pupils were dilated and bloodshot; highlighting the fact that I had gotten minimal sleep following my nightmare last night. But then I noticed a white rose dangling from behind the mirror.

I gasped, and the concealer jumped out of my hand, almost disappearing through the air vent.

"You okay?" Lucas giggled.

"Why do you have that?"

"Have what?"

"That rose."

"What rose?"

It was gone. In place of it was a Queen bead necklace.

"Did you have an extra glass of crazy juice with your Honeynuts or what?"

Now I felt like I was going insane. Why was I seeing these? Why white roses? Were they real, or hallucinations?

I focused on the birds fluttering around in a circle above the church across the street. When the traffic lights turned green, and we edged closer towards it, I noticed the birds were crows. There were six of them, sinisterly lurking around the steeple, like they were waiting. Waiting for the bells to chime and send them into a frenzy; waiting for the sun to project its warmth and light over the town; waiting for some sign that the world was awake.