Dark Departure

Chapter Three

“How can we not be sure he’s back?” Mum whispered to Dad.

“We can’t be, but we just have to trust that it’s still working.” Dad replied in the same hushed tone.

“I swear I saw him talking to her at the Café yesterday. We have to let her know.”

I listened to the hushed conversation as I made my way to the kitchen. Mum and Dad quickly pulled a part and went back to the morning breakfast routine as I walked in tension heavy in the air.

Me: “Morning, lovely parents.”  

I sat down at the table grabbing some toast from Mum’s plate.

Dad: “How are you today?”

Dad sat down with his coffee brushing his sandy blonde hair back into place.

Mum: “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home today?”

Mum walked up to me giving me a hug before I could answer dad.

Me (slightly frustrated): “Mum I’m fine, just a bit tired, but I will be fine.”

Seriously, I hated it when my parents worried about me.

Mum: “Are you sure? I mean if you are too tired it’s okay to stay home.”

Worry creasing her forehead.

Me (really frustrated): “Mum if that was the case there wouldn’t be any students left in school.”

I finished up my toast and stormed back to my room banging on Louise’s on the way.

After much pain and struggle we finally got Louise out of bed and into Mum’s car and Mum headed off on the route to her drop off.

We arrived outside our school. Rain drumming down on to the water-darkened concrete.

Louise and I sprinted to the cover of the walkway that trailed through the middle of the entire school. We, as per-usual, went our separate ways; I quickly grabbed my books and headed to my homeroom. I sat down, not loving my place anymore now that it was being invaded by the HOSTILE ONE. The bell rang and I started drawing some random of a guy in a top hat and baggy pants, the big bow tie drawn in my red pen while the rest was drawn in black. Ithane sat down next to me, his seat pushed back and his long legs stretching beyond the front of his desk.

“So how did you sleep?” He asked and my head snapped up with glare crossing my face as the teacher walked into the classroom.

“What the hell are you playing at?” I hissed angrily as the teacher began reading the daily notices. A stunned look crossed his face.

“I… Um… Was trying… Um… What?” He looked innocent enough but I was freaked out, last night had been like a freakin’ horror movie. I was usually was good watching those god damn scary movies, in fact, I loved them. They just aren’t meant to happen in REAL LIFE!

“Forget it.”

“I was just trying to be civil.”

“Well try less!” I yelled a bit too loudly. The whole class turned around and stared at me, coming to realise that I existed. Though, unfortunately, they had to all realise it at the same time. I bent my head down and started sorting through my school diary to try and  avoid their eyes.

“Ahem!” The teacher brought the class’ attention back to her and away from me. Thankfully only moments the bell rang. I jumped out of my seat and hurried out of the room and headed to my Literature class, glad that I would be around people who had the same sort of interest that I did. Writing and staying in our very small packs. I pulled out my folder and quickly put my earphones in, ready for a lesson of working on my assignment. The teacher was pretty lax which was fine by me, my best work comes out when I listen to music.  Mr Bistock’s motto was as long as we looked like we’re doing work then he was happy.