10 Boy

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A/N: I know the story might be sort of terrible but my writing is pretty mediocre right now, I'm not the judge though. You read it, you decide if it's your thing or not. This is sort of the first book I've written so I want you to be completely honest about what you think if you comment. And the story begins: *dramatic music*.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the music above and the idea for this story came from a Writing Prompt on Pinterest.

I ran and ran and ran. The moment I looked back was the moment I died. Look forward, backwards isn't the way you're heading, I continued to remind myself. Keep your head straight, don't look back, don't look back.

But first, let's take it a few steps back.

Rewind

So, I should probably tell you, My name is Quinn Dalney. That's my mother's surname. I never knew my dad. Well, not that I remember, anyway. Oh also another important thing about me: I can sort of know how dangerous people are. Don't ask me how, but I see someone and I know how dangerous they are on a scale of one to ten, one being they're harmless and 10 being turn and start running now. I've never had a 10, I don't think it's possible. I've never seen a 1 either, as that is also impossible. A normal person would be a 3-5, a baby would be a 2. Everyone is somehow dangerous, even babies; they're so clueless they might kill you by accident or something. And don't forget the baby doll eyes.

But he was different. He looked harmless, like he wouldn't hurt a fly. I've seen a rapist that was a 7 and a serial killer that had killed 53 people that was a 9, never higher than that.

Now, let me try to explain my little 'sixth sense' I guess. It's not like the number is printed on their foreheads, plain to see. I can't explain it exactly, but I get this feeling, sort of like trying to identify a scent, but not really. More like looking through someone's brain but all the other information is unavailable. Well, not all the other information. I also get an explanation; what makes them so dangerous. The more dangerous they are, the harder it is to tell why. So I might know in a few sentences why a normal person or teacher or parent or baby e.t.c. is dangerous, and maybe someone with a knife and no will to live would have a sentence or 5 words.

But this boy, he's a transfer student at the school I attend. He arrived yesterday. His explanation was barely two words. if I'm honest, it wasn't even an explanation.

You feel a sudden pull and you lurch forward as you are taken into a flashback from yesterday.

I walk into class and take my usual seat. The teacher is standing up front behind her desk with this Boy that I've never seen before. She starts introducing him, but I zone out (sort of naturally and sort of out of habit) and I search for a number. '10'. I was so shocked I didn't even hear the teacher call my name for the roll.

"Quinn?" She called again.
"Present! Sorry!" Oops. I noticed I wasn't the only one staring at the new boy. Maybe the only shocked one, but not the only one. Every other girl in my class was staring at him dreamily. I almost puked. I looked at him again, this time for an explanation. I got 2 words. 2 unsatisfactory, frustrating, stupid words: a lot. FOUR LETTERS, TWO WORDS, BOTH WITH ONE SYLLABLE. Two. Words.

So, as you can imagine, I took the situation very calmly and said— well, I sort of screamed it, "WHAT ARE YOU?!". He just smirked at me. You would think people would notice I said that, right? But I technically didn't say that. I said that in my head. No. No. Not a mind reader, cmon. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. I glared at the back of his head. Wrong decision, teacher saw me, and as she's a female, you should know it looked like it physically pained her to look away from him, so when she saw me, she looked furious. I didn't think she'd do anything though, as there was no reason, I didn't technically do anything wrong. But nope. She told me I have been 'very rude to the poor boy' and ordered me to detention. That second. I gathered my stuff and walked out of the room.

As I was closing the door behind me, I met eyes with 10 boy. And I don't know what it was— it wasn't my 'danger sense', I know what that feels like, it was a different feeling—in the second that our eyes met, I got this feeling that he knew exactly who I was and what I could do. He needed me to join him. In what you may ask? Well my guess is as good as yours, for all I know, he could want me to join a skydiving club. His greenish blue eyes felt like they bore into my soul, like he knew my every secret and intention. 'A lot' I repeated inside my head. Well just have to find out how much a lot is then, 10 boy. Game on.

So... was it good? Sorry if you didn't like it but if you didn't please comment and tell me what I can do better and if you did like it thank you. Thank you for your time and for reading this story, I'll probably continue on the weekend or maybe during the week but probably not. Constructive criticism is appreciated! Goodbye *bows*
Oh also check out Vapour by XxSilverMarexX it's Lyfee! 🖤

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