POISONED BLOOD

Chapter 1

Author's Note: I have spent quite a while writing this and I want to thank my friends and family for sticking by me and encouraging me to keep going when I got stuck in a pothole. I love you all and without your help, it would have never gotten finished. My Journalism teacher, Mrs. Whigham gave me a time and place for my imagination to run free and I just want to say you truly are the best. Thank you. I hope you all enjoy the story and lose yourself in it as much as I did. If you like this one, there's more where it came from. :) 

Also: The pictures are not of the actual people, not that they exist you know... it's only fiction, isn't it? I'll add more pictures later. 

It's my first year of high school here in Ames and it's nothing like the middle school that's a few miles closer to town. Instead of being bullied over anything and everything, I feel invisible. That's good and bad; as long as I'm invisible, no one will bother me but it's really lonely. School starts at eight. So, even if I miss the bus I make it on time. The subjects I hated before are now my favorites. Almost. Journalism tops it all, though! Mrs. Marie helped me get a place after the year had started and ever since I've been glued to my job of writing articles for our school newspaper that goes out on Fridays. Writing is my passion; it's what gives me hope when I'm losing my grip. The first time I journaled was in third grade. Once I started, my love for it only grew; poems, songs, and finally stories.

The bell rings for second block and I pull my bookbag up, slinging it onto my back in a dangerous hurry. Journalism! With a big, idiotic grin on my face I practically skip out of the room. My short, less than medium sized body slides through the crowd easily enough. Not paying much attention, I walk right into someone, and my books go flying across the bright blue tiled floor. I glance for a second at the person that I'm pretty sure is a senior or getting there. I do so in annoyance, although I know it was my fault. Dodging people left and right, I gather the fallen books into my thin arms. The last one waits for me under the lockers. I wonder how I'll be able to pick it up without dropping the others again. Bending my knees, I put my neck out over their covers; reaching cautiously for the one causing me all this trouble. My pale hand doesn't so much as touch it before it disappears. I jump, nearly falling onto my butt. A hand on my back steadies me, saving my soul from the humiliation! Looking up my heart sort of skitters in my chest. The guy that had been the victim of my accidental assault a moment ago smiles at me with no flaw whatsoever. People are passing by, but my brain has become a flake on me! His deep green eyes seem to flow with a mix of brown like river water as if they're caught in the ever changing current and wash up beautifully on his sandy white skin; his hair is blonde and short but still cute. I have the weird urge to touch him.

"Umm.. Thank you." I mumble shyly lowering my head and hold out my hand for the book balancing the others on my grey skinny jeaned thigh. His lips stretch into a huge grin; it makes me nervous. Class is about to start in two minutes or less! He lays it on top of the others carefully and his hand comes up to my face; sliding two fingers across my forehead to push my flat ironed dirty blonde bangs out of my eyes. I flinch. My eyes are very different from everyone else's. One's light blue and the other is purple. Don't ask me how, I have no freaking idea. I meet his eyes, afraid of the repulsed look that will be there. Huh. The smile hasn't left his lips.

"You shouldn't hide behind your hair. Your eyes are too pretty to miss." Okay, he's strange. He's strange? You're the one carrying a boatload of non-fiction books about witchcraft and mediums. His hand rest beneath my ear; falling as he turns to walk away. My head is spinning. He didn't tell me his name! As soon as this thought flutters he switches back around moving backwards in confidence.