Two of a Kind

Chapter 1: Last First Day

     "Fuck my life." I whispered to myself as I stood outside the framed glass doors of Maccford high school. This place was horrid. Full of hormonal, stuck-up, wannabe teenagers, Maccford was the grand daddy of all high schools from hell. I wish it would blow up. With me inside.

     My life has been messed up for a while now. My mother used to be the most beautiful woman in the world with a happy husband and her only child. We had everything we had ever hoped for, living the good life, but then it went down the drain. Dad got fired, we lost our house, mom divorced and ran off to Vegas to be a hooker, and dad became a full time drunk. Dad and I have been staying in a cheap apartment for the past 4 years and its been rough, but I have a different way to keep us breathing. But for now I wake up everyday, brush out my long black hair, slap some make up on to shadow my bright green eyes, make sure dad is passed out instead of dead, then go to school. I've lived in worse times so i guess it's alright for now.

     I walked through the poster covered halls with my eyes focused on my feet. My old string hoodie hid my face from the harshness of the world around me. It was the only thing that kept me from looking. But I guess I didn't have to anyways 'cause I'm not like the others. I have a sixth sense that no one knows about. I feel them staring. When a set of innocent eyes spot me in a crowd, I feel the burn of a thousand raging fires inside my body and the shock of electricity flows through my veins. I don't have to look to know. I just feel.

     Shortly after the late bell rings, I stroll into class and take a seat in the back. The first hour of the day is with Mr. Huss; the calculus genius. He's a good guy and all, but I'd rather watch paint dry than listen to him mumble on and on about derivatives or whatever.
     "Mark Sailen?" Mr. Huss called out off the attendance sheet.
     "Here"
"Okay..Clara Sharetto?"
     And then it happened again like I does every year. The entire class had turned their heads at once and stared at me. I felt the rush of exhilarating pain and power through my body. I loved it.
     "Call me Clash." I spoke out with my eyes fixed on the wooden desk in front of me. I never looked up.

     Once they all stopped staring, I shifted my gaze to the imbeciles around me and noticed an unfamiliar body. I turned my head away hoping he had not seen my pale skinned face. Soon after, I felt him glance at me but something was wrong. I didn't get to enjoy the agonizing fear that usually radiates from my enemies' minds. Instead, knives punctured every inch of my crawling skin and my insides soaked in poison, leaving an invisible wound that slowly faded away. My head was spinning. What is this...how did he do this. This mental phenomena was foreign and left me petrified. I gathered the strength to keep my head up and look two empty seats to the left of me to where he sat. He had the long, messy, brown hair and tanned, fit body that went with his worn out plaid shirt beautifully. Then his sparkling eyes, as deep and blue as the ocean, glared into my own and the strange sense of fear and curiosity struck again.

     "...and Cameron Wells?" the teacher called the last name on the list. This unusual boy and I still held our gaze and the pain lessened. Then he opened his soft pink lips to speak.

     "I'm here." He said in a low raspy voice. A smirk slowly made its way on to his face and he turned away from me.

     I had never seen another human being as beautiful as him. Cameron was  physically flawless but had a sinister mind. I could feel his thoughts better than anyone else's and they were dark, but too ambiguous to understand. All I knew was that I was fatally in love and it would turn out to be a fatal mistake.