"Many people have hobbies, not many people have mine. For years, I'd been obsessed with the idea of throwing blades, not your average teenage activity. How many parents actually give their children knives to throw around. that's me" I sigh and look up at my new classmates.
"Wow, that's quite an imagination, you'll fit right in" the teacher says, slight concern in her voice.
I look around the room at all these new faces as I find my seat in the back, already people are starting to whisper about me. Fantastic, maybe they'll fit right into my abnormal lifestyle, sure I've always been the weird kid in every school I go to but that's because I don't care what people think about me.
Some might call me a freak, and some might call me a fake. but what they can't call me is useless.
"Now now class, let's settle down, sure we're all excited for the new kid, but now let's get back to the Mockingjay" the teacher calls out trying to get the attention of at least 30 squirming students.
Everything here was just another thing I already knew. The entire year was going to be too easy. I've read the mockingjay at least nine times. So instead of reading along with the class, I settle into my chair and pull out my phone, looking over old trick shots I've done with my knives and thinking of how to improve them, and before I knew it, the bell was ringing for the next class.
Most of the day was a blur, long and boring. All I paid attention to was the music in my ears. Everything, everyone seemed to move slowly, blurry. I entered my own world until my mother pulled me out, I don't even remember getting in my moms car.
"Lilith, come on, answer me" she groans.
"What?" I ask, taking off my headphones.
"Your teacher called me, it's your first day! How do you manage to piss off your teachers every time? It doesn't make sense to me" she shakes her head while she turns into our driveway to our mansion. We recently came across a great fortune and she chose disgusting, rainy, florida as our
new home. How fun.
"I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention to any of my teachers, or the kids" I stated simply.
She knew I never really was a people person. Ever since I lost my girlfriend in a car accident I caused. At least I feel like I did. Every single time I close my eyes, I can see it all, the car flipping over and sliding across the hot street. Glass flying into our faces. The screams and the blood, and then finally coming to, only to turn and see her being held firmly to her seat by a piece of metal, her body slumped over. I was the only person in the crash to survive, and just barely.
I quickly blink the thought out of my head, I never wanted to have someone to lose again. Never wanted another day that my mind was ringing with the pain I felt that day.
"Go inside, your father wants to talk to you,I have to go to the store" she sighs.
Great, dad's mad. This is just great. I grip my bag in my hands and jump out of the car, grabbing my jacket and walking up the front yard. Our door was open, something felt wrong. Not "I'm getting in deep trouble" wrong, but life or death wrong. I crouched a little bit as I approached my door, reaching into my bag and pulling out my throwing knives. I hear a rustle from inside, so I walk in and turn the corner fast, and move my hand to throw my knife only for my dad to grab my wrist.
"No knives in the house lilith! You could have killed me!" he grumbled.
I drop the knife, and he lets go of my wrist.
"Sorry dad" I mumbled. Something still didn't feel right. Just as dad goes to speak, someone lunges onto him, pinning him to the floor and biting into his neck. He screams out. I was not
going to lose my dad too. I slammed my foot into the guy's head, knocking him off of my dad, and grabbed my knives, pulling dad behind me. The strange man stands up and looks at me, bloodshot eyes, blood dripping down his chin, and he growls.
"Stay back you freak!" I hissed, pointing my knives at him, but he didn't seem to be scared. He seemed mad, driven by something. He lunged at me, my dad pulled me out of the way and took off running with me into the guest room and he turned and locked the door. He groans and presses his hand to his quickly bleeding neck.
"Dad, keep pressure on that, I'm calling the cops" I grab a towel and press it to his neck, using my free hand to dial 911. The signal immediately cuts out. "Shit".
YOU ARE READING
hope among the dead
Mystery / Thriller"I thought it was the end, now I wish it had been, a new virus, loss of all that matters. Hope, love, happiness. It's all gone. So is the world. And the world didn't end in an explosion, or in fire, but rather one scream at a time." I whisper, watch...
