SoulBound

Chapter 3

Excited chatter fills my ears as I sit in the corner of the school cafeteria.
"Are you going to the party?"
"Were you invited to the party?"
"The party sounds so fun!"
"I can't wait for the party."
I continue toying with my food - rather aggressively - when a figure appears out of the corner of my eye.
"Hi!" A cheerful, female voice seemingly breaks me out of a trance.
"Mind if I sit here?"
"Go right ahead."

I glance up at the girl, a short and rather stumpy being. She brushes her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, which I notice is pierced four times. I recognise an industrial, a standard lobe, an orbital and a helix, in a range of black and gold. She is fair skinned, and unlike majority of the female population in our school, her face is completely clear of makeup apart from a light gloss. She has nice features, all in proportion with each other. She notices me half-heartedly stuffing soggy lettuce in my mouth and observes me for a few seconds.

"Aw, you've barely touched your food!"
What do you want me to do, stroke it?

I decide to keep my mouth shut before I say something I'll regret.
"I guess I'm not very hungry at the moment." I lie, giving a slight smile to reassure her and shoving more salad into my mouth. I manage to stuff in a whole mouthful so that she doesn't ask me anything else. As I chew slowly, I see she is fidgeting a lot as if she really wants to ask me something, so I chew a bit faster, swallow, and wait.
"So, would you like to come to my party tonight?"
And then it hits me.
Allana Nealen - she's the one hosting the party, at her oh-so-fabulous palace that she calls home.

Unlike most cliche high schools found in typical story books and fantasy tales, Murlimba is a school of reasonably equivalent worth when it comes to the distribution of value. Although we all have the separate cliques that we tend to stick to, occasionally mixing around with each other, no group is of higher value or worth. So basically, our school is practically the same as other schools, minus the 'popular' group. I like to think that not having a common monarchy among students makes our school unique in the best of ways. Despite all of the groups that are available, I find that I don't really fit into any of them. At all. Like how there is usually that typical 'loner' club, except I'm the only member. I tend to imagine a framed photo of myself, taken in a state of confusion, with the caption "Loner of the Month" hanging up in every corner of my house.

Whilst taking into account the fact that I was just invited to a party that seems almost like an annual event for the school, I find myself wondering if I just imagined it. Or she was being sarcastic. Or I misheard her. Was there any suspicion in her eyes? Did she use an overly contrite voice? Am I just over thinking this whole situation just for the sake of it? I guess I've gotten into the habit of taking every positive event that occurs in my life as some sort of sick joke. Although it is definitely something I need to work on, I think of it as my own personal trait preparing myself for the real world.

I stare down at my salad and desperately try to rack my brain of the negative thoughts building up inside.
"So, is that a... maybe?"
"Oh!"
I nearly choke on a cherry tomato when I realise I didn't even give her an answer. Something in her eyes tells me she genuinely wants me to come. Maybe it's because she is worried I'll zone out and ignore her question again.
"I would love to come." I reply at last, and it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders.
"That's great!" Her enthusiastic voice brings a smile to my face, as well as what feels like my heart. There is no way that can be taken as sarcasm. She finishes off her food and rises from her seat, one-handedly pulling down the back of her black and white striped t-shirt over her high-waisted jeans.
"Bye Natalie!"
I wave goodbye give her genuine, warm smile; a smile which I feel has never been seen lighting up my face ever since the beginning of time.

Something in the room has changed. All this time I have been just listening to the conversations swirling around my head like a continuous tornado. Not listening to the words; only listening to the joy and the laughter and the exhilaration submerged in all the chatter. For once in my life, I feel I am apart of it. I have been noticed and recognised as a person, although not a very significant one. Just like a used matchstick, no matter how damaged, broken and useless one is, it is still acknowledged as a matchstick.

**********

The afternoon of the party, I lay on my bed with a thick novel in my hand above my face. I've just reached the part where my favourite character dies and I am unsure of how to react. It's like the author enjoys making lovable, funny and gorgeously described characters and then sending them to die to evil mutant animals looking for a tasty snack.

"You my friend, have a special place in hell." I tell the book. Suddenly the alarm clock on my bedside-table lets out a deafeningly repetitive screech, startling me and sending my book crashing down onto my face.

I shove the book off my face and sit up, looking at the clock and wondering why it's going off. Then I remember that I have to go to the party. Allana and I swapped phone numbers, and she texted me her address. It's just down the street of Murlimba State, so it's walking distance for me anyway. I get up off my bed, smoothing back the covers and taking practically five steps before I reach the bathroom. I eye my personal little shelf beside the mirror above the sink, picking out different makeup items. I may have given you the image of a poor, lonely family of two living in this puny cottage, but we have more than enough money to experience a little luxury.

Placing the makeup on the side of the sink, I go back to my bed and visit the closet at the foot of it, choosing a purple flare dress covered in black lace shaped into flowers and vines that cuts off just above my knees. After changing into the dress, I head back to the bathroom. I apply a glittery eyeshadow in a shade of brown, to match my natural skin colour, a width-enhancing mascara, black eyeliner and a deep purple lipstick. I tie my hair back in a high ponytail and step back from the mirror to inspect. I realise just how long it has been since I've dressed up so nicely. By the time I have finished getting ready, the time is 5 o'clock and I decide to head out.

After slipping on some black strapped block heels, I say goodbye to my mother, busy reading a book she recently found stashed away in old boxes, and start walking to Allana's house. On my way through the forest, the journey is quiet apart from the occasion chirp of a cricket or the soft breeze blowing against the canopies. A few minutes into my walk I hear a twig snap.
'Typical horror movie material right there.' I think, but I stop in my tracks and look around me.
The sun has almost set completely now, but there is still a hint of orange lingering towards the west, only visible through small partings in the leaves above my head. The slight light only gives me a slither of a chance to be able to spot anyone wondering among the trees, but either way those chance slowly fades along with the dull sunlight. I gently step sideways, glancing around and nearby tree and then concealing myself behind it. crouching down.

After a few seconds, just when I think I should start walking to Allana's house again, a figure emerges from behind one of the trees. Now that it is completely dark, I can't see who it is, but I can make out a male body. He faces towards me, but I can tell he hasn't seen me because he does the same to a few other places. I hear him silently curse under his breath and head straight ahead through the trees, going the opposite way of where I'm headed. Once the forest has reduced to a complete silence once again, I stand back up quietly and dust off the back of my dress.

I always loved walks through the forest, but there is a heavy feeling in my mind about the figure. Who was he and what did he want? All the 16 years I have lived here, we have never had visitors. No one believes there is human life in this forest, and there isn't any wildlife for people to hunt for.

He was looking for someone, and I doubt it was my mother.