Mickaela Gage: Demon Hunter

Chapter 1

"Mick, come on, you'll be late!" Mom's voice didn't have to be that loud. I could hear her through the thin walls of our tiny apartment.

I rolled in my head and attempted to pull the covers over my head. Make it stop, I pleaded. As long as I could remember, I hated school. The mere mention of that God awful place would send unpleasing chills down my spine and my face would scrunch into a disgusted look. School, besides being a hod-bed of teenage angst and drama, bored me to death. No, worse than death. Death would never be this evil. I'd much rather be with my mom while she slept through the day and worked the night. I could work through the entire night and still have enough energy to muster through school. Just don't tell my mom that.

"Mick, I'm not kidding about shoving ice down your blankets," Mom warned.

I pulled back the covers and shot up from my bed. I started changing into my jeans and my favorite tank top. I walked out of my room as I fastened my favorite studded belt. I looked up to Mom scanning me over. I raised my eyebrow and arms up in question.

"What?"

Mom shook her head, placed her tea on the table and crossed her arms. If no one knew my mother, they'd think I was in trouble.

"Mickaela, what am I going to do with you? Where is your uniform?"

I directed my gaze to the ground and shifted my eyes. I hate my uniform. Well, the blazer is part of the uniform. The crest is stupid--it was a fake one to make it look like the school was worth something-- and the dress code for everything else was strict. No holes in the jeans if you wear them with your blazer. No graphics of any kind under your blazer. All shirts must be a solid color. Everything must be neat in appearance. All shoes must be close-toed with no graphics of any kind on them. Skirt must be to fingertips, good thing I don't wear them, and socks must be white. Shorts are prohibited no matter the appearance. Belts must be neat in appearance and fastened at the waist properly with nothing gaudy or hanging from it. Hair must be a natural color; no bright colors like blue, pink, red, purple, and green at all. Jeez, anything more and I'd have to blow the school up.

"Mick, come on, you know you have to wear it."

"I know, I know," I said as I turned around and took the two steps into my room and grabbed my blazer from the floor. "I hate wearing it," I uttered as I twisted my hair into a messy bun.

I can't wait until I graduate, I thought, so I can burn this damn thing.

"Now eat up before you go. You need your strength today." Mom placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me.

I looked at the plate. I swear those eggs are going to get up and crawl away one day. I'd never let my mom know that; she might kill me for mentioning it jokingly. Reluctantly, I started shoveling the mutant eggs into my mouth, barely chewing or keeping it in my mouth long enough to taste it. When there was nothing but crumbs of eggs left, I grabbed my bag, pecked Mom on the cheek, and walked out the door.

When the door was shut, I looked both ways, trying to decided what to do. Should I actually go to school, or see what I can get away with away from school? As always, my mother and her friends' threats of what they'd do to me if I was caught skipping school won my choice. To hell I go.

School was a long walk if I don't take the bus. With the bus, it gives me less time to think about why i was a scholarship kid at a rich kids' school. Mom and I can barely afford the necessities and school wasn't one of them. You'd think the teachers would give me a break, with me being a scholarship kid and all, but they don't. They actually expect you to fail. Since my attendance record wasn't the best, they're just waiting for me to fail so they could kick my ass out.