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CHAPTER ONE →DOROHA
my school had started the second week of august. from a distance, the fence complex of long gloomy grey colored buildings, connected by rooted walkways, made me think of a low security prison. once I stepped through the doors, the 'join a club!' posters and the echoing hallways where like falling back into a familiar dream of hell that i had visited once or twice- maybe three times. crowded stairwells, humming lights, biology classrooms; it was all there. sadly.
i wasn't even halfway down the hall when i made one of the best decisions of my life. i turned back, and walked the other way. before i knew it, my tidy white sneakers where a mucky grey from slugging through the puddles outside the rimming gates, and my breath was cold as i waited at the bus stop.
i couldn't do it. i couldn't go back to school.
i flicked the hair tie on my wrist nervously, and soon began gnawing on my thumbnail, then tapping my shoes, and even redoing my ponytail seven times. i adjusted my circle glasses.
"ha, harry potter."
it was the boy standing beside me. he snickered at my reaction- a raised brow and flared nostrils. it took me a moment to realise he had an accent.
"fuck you." i spit, before ripping the glasses off my face, and tossing them onto the wet street. he made a small whistle noise, rolling his eyes.
"wheres your broomstick?" the boy asked with a laugh hiding at the brim of his lips, ready to explode. that accent- it was strange. i wanted him to keep talking so i could figure it out; but i also wanted him to shut up and leave me alone.
"left it at hogwarts. what about you, wheres your skateboard?" i queer, glancing at his black t-shirt, with 'thrasher' written across it in red and orange ink. he furrowed his brows, looking down.
"eh?" he asked, cocking a single eyebrow at me.
this particular boy was strange looking. lanky, a whole head taller than me, and yet still appearing the same height. he wore his thrasher t-shirt paired with a bizarre pair of old fatigues with the knees busted out and jungle boots.
"never mind." i blankly brushed off, dusting off my black skirt. the next time i blinked, i was in the bus, sitting in the seat in front of him, looking out the window. my blackouts have slowly become better over the years, but they are still there. still annoying.
"so, how long have you been here? I've never seen you." i ask, not turning around, but he knew i was talking to him. i ended up turning around anyway, glancing at his features. he had wild black curls and a pale face, dark eyes and thick brows too. foreign. exotic. something.
