Two Worlds

Chapter 1

The bus stopped in desolate place and throughout the whole ride, the passengers were looking at the me in distaste, but nobody said anything and they dropped their gazes when I bothered to look at them. Did they know I was a resident of this part of the city? That was possible. No sane person would ever dare to visit these parts of the city alone.

But I was an exception.

I looked around. It felt like I had relocated to another planet. Darkness was everywhere and the smell of violence was everywhere, enveloping the place like a shroud. I could hear the wind rustling dry autumn leaves in the trees. I listened to a noisy of neighborhood dogs barking doggy gossip back and forth. A car revving its engine as it sped down the road in front of the building. A group of loud wannabe thugs walking down the road, professing their toughness, all the while respecting their parents' curfews. An old hooting in the distance. A cricket chirping.

I wasn't a fan of the place myself. Several people stood in the shadows, drinking and engaging themselves in fist fights. I could detect the acrid scents of vomit and urine that hung in the air. Of course, above all these horrible scents was the bitter odor of smoke.

Mud squelched under my shoes and as they emerged back up, the bottom hems of my jeans felt wet and soaked. Which was, if not anything else, quite refreshing. I glanced once at the sky. The rays of light, even though dim, peeked from behind the ominous looking grey blanket of fluff and along with the tiny raindrops, pricked my eyes.

Paige Sanders. Sixteen. Claustrophobic. Haemophobic. Vexatious and socially awkward. Also very probably falling in the category of a nerd, but without the glasses and braces.

That's how I'd describe myself .

I buried my hands in the pockets of my jacket. My breath fogged in the chilly air, twisted and took off. I shivered slightly as I walked on, shaking off a bit of excitement. The cold weather made me feel energetic. That's how autumns always were in the little city, cold. Neither too crowded nor deserted.

Just perfect, just home.

I took a few more paces and spun around, the automatic doors of the supermarket opened, a gust of warm and stale air right drifting out. I hurried in and rubbed my hands together.

I wasn't that cold, it was just an old habit.

Right at one corner, I grabbed a basket from a little column and went through the grocery list once again. I had all the necessary items in about ten minutes, which was just about as long as I was willing to give. I strode between the aisles right to the end, when something in my peripheral vision made me stop. I took a few steps back and smiled at my luck. Right in one corner of the candy section, there it was, the last Hershey's Symphony. Without another thought I warped my fingers around the little bar of chocolate and lifted it up. It belonged in my basket, and soon in my stomach, that was it's destiny.

I went with the beat in my ears, giddy of my accomplishment. One second it was in my hand, and in the next long, pale fingers were on it.

My head snapped back up.

A rather tall boy scowled down at me, his tousled white hair standing out in the dim light of the store's lamps. His sharp, piercing pewter eyes pierced into mine, harbouring a cold, calculated fury. He wore a flannel-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black jeans and boots. A little chain dangled on his other wrist.

I didn't know much about him, but it was easy to assume that he was quite not pleased with my presence or simply just wanted to kill me, based on his 'vibe.'

My mother had described to me what exactly a 'vibe' was when I was five years old and had attempted to kiss my neighbor, Max, for the first time. After being enrolled in ballet class - a misguided attempt by my mother to give me poise and equilibrium - I began clinging to Max like a life-vest. Every class he wore a pink tutu like the rest of us, with pink princess shoes that sparkled. I was so jealous of those shoes, and yes, I was a little in love with Max at that time.