Forbidden

~Chapter Five~

First of all, thank you for reading! :-)

Second of all: I'm getting really into this story. Things happened in this chapter that I didn't intend to include. Which is pretty cool. When you think like your characters, sometimes your writing ends up improving.

Third of all: This is getting creeeeeeepyyyyyy. :-)

ENJOY!!!

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~Chapter Five~

           

The rest of the weekend was a blur. For one straight day, nothing unusual happened, which was a sweet relief to me. I had nothing to ponder, nothing to worry about. It set my mind at ease, and I even found it in me to play a game of catch with Ethan and Brock.

            All that my friends could talk of was the new exchange student. “I heard that she’s a hot Italian chick,” Ethan would say.

            “No,” Brock would argue back, rolling his eyes, “she’s supposed to be a gorgeous French babe.

            “Italian.”

            “French.”

            “Italian!”

            “French!”

            “Italian!”

            “French!”

            I sat on the sidelines during their inevitable fights. If I gave them about twenty minutes to themselves, they would cool off and relax. Of course, they would be fighting again in approximately five minutes, but it was nice while it lasted.

            On Monday, I was partly looking forward to school. I was eager to see the mysterious exchange student and decide for myself whether I liked her or not. Ethan and Brock’s debate would be settled, and I wouldn’t have to be the middle man for ten minutes, at the most.

            On my way out the door, my sweatshirt sleeve caught on one of the hinges, yanking me back and pulling me off-balance. I tugged on it, trying to free my hand, but to no avail. The cloth was wedged deep in the crevice and refused to budge. Frustrated and not thinking properly, I jerked back harder on the sleeve, feeling the seams split as I tumbled back onto the concrete porch. My teeth clamped together as my head smacked against the iron railing and my arms flew out to the sides.  Stinging, throbbing pain emerged in my head and both arms. I gritted my teeth, preparing myself for the worst, and pulled up my sleeves.

            What I saw wasn’t possible.

            The scars that speckled my arm had been cut open again by the impact. I knew that; I had felt it. But now, the bloodied gashes were slowly coming together before my eyes, healing at an alarming rate. I watched on in astonishment as the cuts grew together, the blood disappearing and the new bruises vanishing into nothingness. Only the scars remained, which now appeared to be years old, instead of just weeks.

            I stared at my arms, in a haze as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred. I gulped, slowly moving my hands to the back of my head, which had ached only moments before. Now, there was no sign of any head injury, no throbbing sensation, no blood…were my hallucinations growing stronger now?

            I shook myself and stood up. I needed to catch ahold of my senses. I couldn’t even tell anyone about the events that had happened to me. No one would believe me. No one would understand.