The Mind Thieves

Chapter 3

Sam woke the next morning to the sound of circus music playing through her phone alarm. The annoying tune was the default song and Sam had never bothered to change it, knowing any song she chose would automatically be ruined for her anyway.

    Sam rolled out of bed, stretching as she made her way over to her dresser. Pulling on some sweat shorts and a tank top she headed for the basement.

   The basement was unfinished, consisting of an open space with a concrete floor and brick walls. Towards the middle of the room a punching bag hung from the ceiling.

    Boxing was something Sam had taken up with her dad a couple years ago. Her dad was looking for a way to get back in shape and Sam found the continuous rhythm of her fist hitting the punching bag therapeutic in a way.

    Her dad hadn't been down here in months, but Sam still came down here every morning.

    Setting her phone face down on the concrete floor, Sam set her playlist to shuffle and put on her gloves. The music echoed off the brick walls shutting out everything and leaving Sam in her own little bubble. Sam pounded the bag to the bass of the music, shuffling her feet from one position to another. Her tennis shoes stuffed against the rough floor.

    Sam punched until she could feel the sweat gathering at her hairline and running down her neck. She stopped and took a swig out of her hydro flask before checking the time on her phone.

    Seeing that she had less than an hour before school started, she let out a sigh and turned off her music. The sudden silence was like a vaccine, enveloping the air around her with a sense of erieness.

    Sam barely had time to take a quick shower, throw her damp hair up into a bun at the base of her neck, and throw on some jeans and a sweatshirt before she was out the door. She knew she would pay for not combing out her hair later, her frizz already making itself present.

    Sam slipped into her first period class just shy of the bell. She made her way over to her desk staring at the ground with her hoodie obscuring most of her view, but when her desk entered her vision, someone was already sitting there.

    If Sam had been anyone else, she would have just told the person that they were sitting in the wrong desk like any normal person, but no. Sam, being the awkwardly shy person she was, ignored it and sat down in the desk next to hers, probably stealing someone else's seat in the process.

    She tuned out the teachers words as she laid her head down on the desk, subtly studying the girl in the desk next to her. Sam had never seen her in this class before, but then again it's not like she really paid attention.

    The girl had short, spiky, black hair with white strips dyed strategically throughout. Her lips were studded with snake fangs and a long line of sparkly studs adorned one ear. Sam caught a glimpse of what looked like a tattoo from beneath her shirt collar trailing slightly up her neck.

    As if she could feel someone's stare, the girl snapped her head to the side, looking Sam in the eyes. Sam was shocked to see a pair of fluorescent yellow eyes looking into her own. Whereas normally this would be the time when Sam looked away and faked obliviousness, this time, something in the girl held her in place. And she held her gaze.

    The girl smirked.

    “Watcha looking at?” She asked in a sing song voice.

    Sam's mind went blank as she tried to think of an answer to supply.

    “Um...I just like your contacts,” She replied trying to keep her voice casual.”

    “Yeah because you could see my eyes while staring at the side of my head,” the girl said snarkily. Her eyebrows rose along with the silver rings on them.