Never the same

Chapter 1

"Dagan! Are you paying attention?" My teacher's voice shatters my train of thought.

So close! I was nearly there!

I lift my head to look straight at my teacher's eyes. She looks furiously at me, most people would cower in fear. But not me, since I am just as angry.

"Dagan! I expect you to pay attention in my class!" The teacher says, her anger still present in her voice.

"But I already know the human circulatory system. I learnt that 2 years ago!" I complain, attempting to leave my own anger out of my voice.

"So tell me then. What is the name of the artery that supplies blood to the kidneys?" The teacher asks. The other students in the room tense, we have not been told this yet.

"The renal artery." I casually say. My voice has a slight mocking tone meant for my classmates.

They are the ones that didn't visit the library every day so that they could avoid this.

"Correct." The teacher sighs. I hear my fellow classmates start to talk amongst themselves. Mainly about how on earth I knew this piece of information.

"Um... miss?" I call. My teacher, who has been walking back to the whiteboard, turns round to look at me once more.

"Yes, Dagan?" She asks, possibly knowing that she will regret paying attention to me like the last 5 times in the past 2 weeks.

"Is it possible for an organism to survive 500 grams of table salt after having been given 50 mililetres of water in a 24 hour period?" I ask.

"I am not sure. What do you mean by 24 hours?" My teacher sighs.

"24 hours after having taken the water and in a 24 hour time period after having taken the salt." I explain.

"And what organism?" My teacher asks, trying to get me to clarify my own question to her liking. I sigh.

"I didn't want that question asked. Let's say a... ummm... a Komodo Dragon, largest size possible." I tell her.

"Then I really don't know. May I return to teaching?" My teacher finalizes. I nod, not bothering to point out that the class is nearly finished. My mind returns to the problem at hand as the teacher talks more about the heart chambers.

Is it possible for a dragon to survive 500 grams of table salt in a 24 hour time period after having been given 50 mililetres of water 24 hours ago?

The bell rings, it's frustratingly annoying clanging sound echoes through the air, soon drowned by the student's cheers, the week is finally over.

"Now remember, take notes and complete the worksheet, have a good weekend!" The teacher shouts, trying to be heard above the racket of the bell, footsteps, chairs being dragged on the floor and students rapidly talking with each other. I slowly leave the classroom, hoping that this weekend will be more eventful than the last, but usually that's not the case, it's normally the opposite. Each weekend seems to be more uneventful than the last.

I throw my bag to the back corner seat of the bus, people don't tend to interrupt me from my thinking back there since they sit in the front. Taking my seat, I put my seatbelt on, the buckle giving out a satisfying "click" sound. I look out of the window and look at the people walking about, entering cars, talking and being told to behave while I wait for the bus to leave so that I may return home. I ponder about whether my parents will be home or not. Most likely they won't be, my parents tend to work in the office for long periods of time, like 5 AM to 11 PM. The only day they don't work is on Sunday, but then they are generally sleeping. Sometimes their boss will send them on random trips to other countries to handle some business elsewhere, without warning. Those times I am left in charge of the house.

The bus begins to shake, then it starts its journey to drop off people at their houses. The kids at the front are excitedly playing their games, the teens in the middle are listening to music, talking or playing some video-game on their phone. I'm here at the back, looking out of the window and pondering.

I guess a dragon would be big enough to survive in those 24 hours so long as it didn't do much physical activity.

With my large debate put to rest, I simply stare at the scenery, waiting for my overactive mind to gift me with a new mental problem to solve.

The bus stops in front of my gate and, grabbing my bag, I hurry out of the still-crowded bus to get home, away from all the noisy people. I hurry across the grassy driveway, ignoring the songs of the birds and the calls of the local wolves. Living near the woods is nice, especially when the town is surrounded by them, but eventually, the noises get annoying. I run towards the front door, then, after having reached it, I dig into my pocket for the keys, and after finding them, I slot them into the keyhole and open the door.

My assumption that my parents aren't home is proven correct. Sighing, I walk to my bedroom and plump my bag down at the foot of my bed, With nothing to do for the next couple of hours, I sit down on my armchair and relax, waiting for a new question to arise. My eyes wander around, taking in the details of my room. My bed rests in one corner with my bookshelf right next to it. Next to the armchair and opposite to my bed is the armchair that I'm sitting in. Opposite my bookshelf is my desk. Across the foot of my bed is the door to the rest of the house.

How many times has this room changed?

The answer is simple. 3 times. Exactly three times. I know that doesn't sound like much but adjusting to change takes a while, it is really hard for me to adjust to new things, not that I don't embrace change, it's just difficult to adjust. My eyes wander and look at the paintings I made. My favourite is of a jet black dragon. I drew it almost a year ago.

Two more days and that painting will be exactly one year old.

A ping sound brings me out of my thoughts and I notice my phone on my desk light up. I grumble slightly as I'm forced to stand up and check the phone, just-in-case my parents are the ones that sent the message. I'm not addicted to the technology like most people my age, I sometimes wonder why 14-year-olds are so addicted, it's like they have nothing else to do in their lives. I would normally not bother to check that blasted phone but last time I did that and it was my parents, well, I faced a lot of shouting at 12:30 in the night. It was not pleasant.

I look at the phone screen and read the notifications about the message. It's from and unknown person and reads:

"Get ready for two days time."

I read the notification twice before rapidly unlocking the phone to see if the message has more, It doesn't have anything else to it apart from those vague words.

Get ready for what? And why specifically in two days? If it really was a threat I wouldn't have been told how many days I have left to live my life.

My thoughts are once again interrupted by a ping. I look down at the phone and see that the unknown messenger has sent another message:

"Look up."