Fly High | ✅

28 | White noise

◈A D R I A N◈

Black clothes, check.

Gloves, check.

Backpack, check.

Pacing back and forth in my room, I looked down at my watch and took a shaky breath to calm my jittery nerves. In about thirty minutes, my entire world will change. I will no longer be at the bottom of the food chain.

Tonight, I'll rise to the top.

Having that said, I dashed to the bathroom again to relieve myself. The last thing I needed was to bare my vulnerable butt in the midst of the woods. Or worse, to have my butt targeted by some wild animals.

I shuddered at the thought as my hands were getting drenched under the running tap. The cold water was numbing my nerves, an oddly soothing sensation.

Looking into the mirror, I saw a wide-eyed scrawny face staring back. He usually looked weak and pathetic but today, there was something different in the way he held his head. That confident tilt and that wild glint in his eyes,

This boy was ready to hunt.

I smiled, welcoming this foreign rush of exhilaration. The subtle sting on my lower back was like a constant confidence boost. Thinking back on how Zax's words struck me deep, calling the tattoo a tramp stamp had my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

I had rushed back home, pulling off my shirt against the will of my protesting back and tiptoed in front of the mirror. I craned my neck to see the reflection, breathing out a relieved sigh when I saw the tattoo. I was half expecting to see the word 'Tramp Stamp' imprinted on my skin. Instead, it was as badass as I've had hoped.

It was about two inches wide, a set of lips pulled wide to reveal two bloody canine fangs. I realized it was the exact replica of the graffiti on the vert wall.

I was over the moon despite feeling a little guilty for doubting Damon. This tattoo was like a little cool secret only you know-almost like a vigilante hiding his secret identity.

Checking my reflection for one last time, I ran my fingers through my hair to smooth out the stubborn strands and closed the door.

✴

I see fire.

Blazing hot fire in the middle with a ring of black silhouettes surrounding it, worshipping it.

My eyes flickered to the silhouette standing in the middle. Shadows danced across his features, his eyes reflecting the fiery blaze before him. He had his hand stretched out, inviting me to sin.

Join us, he mouthed.

Entranced, I stepped forward to join the circle. I was instantly enveloped in the warm embrace with the crackling fire sending smoke and sparks up the sky.

There was a weird buzzing in the air and the people around me swayed to the invisible rhythm. I found Thomas standing beside of me while I was assessing the situation. His colorful Hawaiian shirt was gone, replaced by a black turtleneck and skinny jeans. He looked just like Charlie.