Ring of Dimensions

Chapter one

Lamia's P.O.V
November first, 2029. It's been eight years since my mom died. That's the only thing on my mind as I pretend to get ready for school. I absently twist the ring she gave me on my finger. It is beautiful and one of a kind with its black oval in the middle and black swirling patterns around the oval. She gave it to me right before she died on my ninth birthday and told me to never lose it; someday it would play an important part in my life.

A soft knock sounds on my door, pulling me out of my daydream. It opens and my dad steps in.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," he gives me a forced smile. These days, neither of us really smiles.

"Don't remind me," I mutter. He sighs.

"Look, Lamia, I know it's been hard on you since your mom died, but I know what your going through. If you need anyone to talk to-"

"I know, Dad. I need to get ready for school."

"Okay. But I want to give you something first." He reaches into his pocket and brings out a small envelope and hands it to me, before walking away. On the envelope I see a familiar curly handwriting spelling out my name. My mom's handwriting.

£∆M1∆

I smile a little to myself. My mom liked to use symbols instead of actual letters, she said it brought out the best, even in sad words. Then I frown, my eyes welling up with tears. This is the only thing I've seen of my mom's in years. I stuff the letter in my desk drawer, not yet ready to read it.

After a few more minutes, I decide I better get ready for school. If I stay home, I won't have any distractions and I will have way too much time to think.

I look at my watch. 7:44. I quickly get dressed and brush my unruly dirty blonde hair, applying some mascara to my already long eyelashes. I look into the mirror to see the dark purple and light purple checkered flannel  and leggings I'd put on, along with my black flats. Aside from looking really young, I'm easily one of the prettiest girls in my school, although I have dreadfully pale skin.

Deciding I look fine, I head out to my car to drive myself to school, grabbing a piece of toast on the way. I drive a black Chevy Camaro, courtesy of my rich dad. He works as an anaesthesiologist at our local hospital and I get pretty much whatever I want. We live in a pretty normal house, though, with four bedrooms, a bathroom upstairs, downstairs, and one in my room.

Once I'm at school, I park close to the school to save time, and am in my homeroom by 7:58. I sit at my desk, waiting for the bell to ring. I bring out my phone and text my best friend, Amber.

Hey. How's life in Cookson's? I ask. Her homeroom teacher, Mr. Cookson, is a bitch. Actually, I'll be surprised if she texts back while under the watchful eye of Gale Cookson.

Just peachy. How's the sub? I looked over at my homeroom teacher's desk where a handsome substitute teacher with chocolate colored hair and a perfect face sits instead of my usual homeroom teacher, Mrs. Johnson. I hadn't noticed him before. Mrs. Johnson must be out sick.

He sure is good looking for a teacher. I send and the bell rings. My first class is history, which Mrs. Johnson normally teaches. I guess we are having the sub teach history today. Amber rushes in, taking her usual seat beside me.

"Who's Mr. Handsome over there?" She nods in his direction.

"That's the sub, " I reply.  Amber looks surprised.

"Are you sure he's old enough to teach?" I shake my head and as I stare at him, I wonder the same thing. He can't be much older than 20 and could easily be mistaken as a student. For a second, his eyes find mine and they darken. They flick to my hand so quickly I almost miss it, then back to my face before returning to whatever worksheet is on his desk. I glance down at the hand he looked at and see my mom's ring.

Does he know something about my mom or her ring? Or does he know something about me?

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Dun dun duuuuuuun! Who do you think this substitute teacher really is? What does he know? If you liked this chapter please vote. Leave a comment and tell me what you think.
(Btw the picture is of Lamia)