HeartBeat

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Ava

I step into advanced literature slowly. I take in the rows and rows of chairs, then the small stage at the front of the classroom, if it can be called that. It had to be the largest classroom; I've been to so far. I look around studying the standing white board, the projector overhead and the teacher's large desk in front of the stage.

I feel something niggling inside me. I analyze the feeling and realize its excitement. I keep a straight face. Calm, but my hand twitch as I walk up the carpeted stairs. Everything was tinted red and black, dark colors, that set a mood to this class that I appreciated.

I had always been a fan of literature. Father has a towering shelf, that I had utilized every time in entered his office space. Often times, it was against my will, but I was captured by each work of literature no less.

All of my classes have been dull and tedious chores. I am being taught things I've learned and known for years now. Though it is interesting to be taught by more...docile teachers. Their teaching style was slow and easy to comprehend. I had to remind myself that I was the only one of my kind here, that the other students needed the slow teachings, and that there were no punishments for their failures. All of this may be tedious, but the new change, and experience of the world outside the clan, was a wonder to behold. I hope somewhere inside these creatures I've chosen to live among, there is gratefulness for their stable world. A lot of blood was spilt to make it so.

I find a seat in the back, with an empty row. Close enough that the teacher wouldn't think I was too far away from the rest of the class. I settled into my seat. I tug the sling of my bag off my shoulder and resting it on the floor.

"Hello everyone. Good morning." I turn my eyes towards the voice at the front of the class. The woman stands short, on high heels. She's aged around forty. Her brunette hair was piled in messy curls on top of her head. I had always been envious of such curly hair. An image of black thick curls is brought to the forefront of my mind. I had not been blessed with them, my diluted African blood, only allowing for soft waves. Glasses sits on her nose, and she takes her index finger and pushes it up. She's dress uniquely, and I found that I liked her appearance.

Her white blouse is large, tucked into a long brown skirt. She wears bracelets, and large earrings with strange faces on them. Even from this distance I can make out the smiling expression on the pair.

She leans against her desk and looks out at the growing class.

"Good morning," a few people respond.

"Welcome to advanced literature." Her arms open wide, before falling to her sides. "My name is Mrs. Dulber, and I'll be your teacher this semester."

Mrs. Dulber goes on about outlines and reading materials. I was thankful that she said nothing of ice breakers. It seemed teachers here were lovers of the wretched things.

Twenty minutes in, when Mrs. Dulber's voice was beginning to sound like white noise. I wondering for the fifth time why she wasn't utilizing the stage, but realized something else in the next moment. It was becoming clear that she was stalling. I found out for what, or more like for who, a minute later.

My breath catches. As if he wasn't rows away, his scent hits me in my face. There was no open air to shift it away from my nose. The reaction is instant. The sting of pain, the increasing thump in my heart, and that strange feeling causing my stomach to...flutter?

If I hadn't taken the suppressor when I did, I wouldn't have been able to hold out. Ava Daniels would have burst out from the made up Charlotte Bowe, and with as fractured as my mind was, it would have been a blood bath.