His Wicked Melody

His Wicked Melody ~Eight

His Wicked Melody ~Eight

So he knew? There was really someone out there who shared the same secret as me, and goes through what I am forced to go through every single day? But more Importantly, who's side was he really on? If he was with the other court, which there's a good chance he was, there would be a real fight, on who's the better of us two.

But really, it made no sense at all. I was to be the only one in the world, correct? Then, who was Jason? What was he? There was a good chance I was a threat to him, he had already killed me once, and acknowledged it.

I didn't realize I was staring at him walk away from me until I heard a kid yell at me, "Hey you! What you staring at?"

I shook myself from my thinking and glared at the guy who said that. It was Deven, of course. The one no one liked, ever. Even a child with mental issues would be able to easily tell that you'd hate him. He was just that hateable. He's always so full of hisself, and thinks he could get everything. Yeah, right. Tell that to me when your a boring violinist while I'm the star of emo music.

Considering I have no feelings, even I hate him. Which means, he's only setting himself up for it. It's not my fault.

~~~*^*~~~

School came to an end, I had gotten 100% on all my tests and quizzes, but had gotten one wrong here and there to make sure no one knew I was a freak. Not like I cared, but I had already too much to deal with on my hands.

My motorcycle was parked pretty far away, and the only one I have talked to in school was Jason, so I didn't really have much of a choice. I went over to him.

"You need to..." I started.

"I know," He said in a soft voice,"I have to tell you things, too."

"Well then," I said a bit annoyed, "why don't you?"

"Later," he looked at me.

When he got on his motorcycle, he motioned me to get on. His shoulders were stiff, and his breath was ragged and uneven. Something was definetly not right. But why was something so wrong to him?

I don't like people, and I don't usually hate people either. I can't say I hated Jason, but, I didn't like him either. I was the only one of my kind, who was he? He had the answers that I needed to know, and it was something important. And he'd tell it to me, eventually, because I had my ways.

I looked at the back of his neck, and wondered, would I have had a crush on him if I was ever normal? He was cute, to most normal people, and had this 'look' in general. If I was the one to like bad boys and that kind of stuff, I guess I probably would have liked him.

We got there, eventually, and I got off his motorcycle. I looked around and saw my motorcycle, still unharmed in the parking lot. I went over to it to make sure it was undamaged, and anything I had hidden in it was still there, secure. I glanced over my shoulder to only see Jason, extremely agitated, muttering words in disgust into the cold, thin air.

"You have to tell me, you know," I told him softly, sitting down across from him as he did to me just earlier in the day.

"I know," he replied, sighing.

"But," I added," you shouldn't trust me. You can't trust me."

"Yes, I can," he told me, looking up.

Then he started his story.