Wolf-blood

Indigo Calypso Darenger

I was running through the forest. No one could see me, hear me, smell me. I was the force that went unseen. I could see the smallest movement and hear a footstep from 100 yards away. I was faster than the fastest man alive. And then the darkness of the midnight forest was replaced by a blinding sun, the silence by a blaring alarm.

And then I woke up. I groaned and sat up, turning off my alarm in the process. It was 6:30 on a Thursday and if I wanted to get up and ready in time for my ride, I had better get moving. So I grabbed my hideous glasses, stood from my black and gold spiraled bed-spread, and walked across the room to my bathroom. Time for the usual daily routine. I assembled the basics: washcloth, face wash, head band, contact case, contact solution, glasses case, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, hair brush, straightener. But under NO circumstances would I EVER be caught in make-up. Ugh, I felt so fake when I wore it, even something so little as mascara in the morning.

After I was done with my prep up until my hair (it's still a bit wet from me washing my face and I don't want to fry it with my straightener), I left my bathroom and walked to my closet. I picked out my school uniform: red skirt, black sweater with the Darenger's School crest on the right shoulder, white button down top, white high socks, and black flats. I returned to the bathroom thinking about how unfair it was that I had to get a ride to school, even though my grandfather was the principle and my father taught there.

After I finished straightening my hair, escaping with no burns, I looked at the girl in the mirror. She had long dark brown hair that fell to her mid back and strong black eyebrows that showed off her icy blue eyes. Her face was thin with defined cheekbones under her pale skin. She had acne, was 5' 9" (far too tall for a regular 7th grader), and her chin jutted out too far. I turned away from the mirror before I found anymore flaws.

I turned off the lights and ran out of my room. It's 7:15. I threw together a quick breakfast of cereal and banana slices and ate quickly. When I was done, I gathered up my backpack, piano bag, violin bag and case, and voice bag. By then it's 7:25 and my ride had arrived on time as always.

As I walked out into the spring air to my friend Mikey's mom's car, I began to think back to the dream I had been having that morning. Though the events that had happened had faded from memory, I got the strange sense of freedom from thinking about it.

I was snapped back to our universe when I found I had walked up to the car. As I opened the car door, I said, "Hey Mikey."

"God, Indie, why do you always call me that? My name is Michael," Mikey said back to me. He was dressed in the guys uniform for Darenger's, a red sweater vest with the crest on the right shoulder over a white button down with a black tie, black dress pants, and black loafers. He was shorter than me by a couple of inches and was skinny, but strong. He had blond hair that fell in his chestnut eyes and an oval-ish face.

"Well, I've known you since kindergarten and I'm not changing what I call you because of a mere thing like age," I told him.

"As I could tell when you referred to Catherine as Kitty during English."

"Just be happy I don't call you Beaver or something, Mikey"

"Always grateful," he responded, laughing as we pulled into school. If you could even call it that. Darenger's School for the Gifted was as big as a castle. It looked like a big cathedral with its towers and gothic style windows. It was made 200 years ago by a man named Carl Hemsworth. He founded it to help children, "Exceed their expectations, enhance their natural abilities, and widen their horizons." Back then it was called Hemsworth's School for Gifted Children. It stayed that way for 100 years until my great-grandfather donated half of his will to the school under one condition: Change the name so he wasn't forgotten when he died. And so Darenger's School for the Gifted was born.

After Mikey and I walked in and put our stuff in our lockers (which were next to each other on the ground floor), we had to go our separate ways. His homeroom was on the second floor in Ms. Plander's class and mine was on the third in Mr. Meyer's. When I walked in, I sat in my desk and zoned out until morning announcements with the Pledge of Allegiance and other boring announcements came on. Then it was time for first hour which just so happened to be Mr. Meyer for Arithmetic. This day would be great (note sarcasm).