I step through the door and the halls wreak of desperation and unfinished assignments. Exams, I thought. I walk slowly but I can't get rid of the piercing eyes staring at me. The spacious halls are scarce, only the people who stand at their lockers and they look at me like I am a piece of trash. I stare at my shoes. They are old and worn out and I push my nose up in disgust as my eyes stray away from my stringy, chewed up shoelaces. I get to my locker and I look away when I see the disturbing, insulting words, spray-painted on the slate-blue surface. As I search through the walls of my locker, I grab my Algebra and History books.
My hand runs along the sides of the locker as I retrieve my books; the coarse texture reminds me of the trees in the forest my parents would carry me every year. Red, dust-like sand is stuck between my finger nails. Rusty. I clean them out and take my time to class, hugging my books to my chest, still looking at my feet.
"Ow!" I scream, losing all feeling in my arms. My books hit the ground.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the voice says, picking up the books. While he is doing that, I pull down the grey tam on my head a little above my eyes, leaving a peek of my eyebrows.
"I didn't see you there," he says, returning my books. "You got to be more careful."
His light brown eyes, an antique brass effect, are staring at me and I can't help but think he is calling me a freak in his mind. But his eyes tell a whole different story; they are saying, "I care and I'm here to help you." But my tongue feels heavy and my hands feel jittery; my palms are sweaty and my legs are numb. I say nothing but I know he is waiting for a response. I just whisper a "Thanks" and walk away, bumping into his shoulder accidentally.
When I get to class, it's a mess. The floors are covered with crumpled folder papers and candy wrappers, but the funny thing is, lunchtime hasn't even come yet. There is a shatter in one of the windows and a rock nearby with a note taped to it saying, "School sucks!" The stripping walls are a boring shade of pink and the white boards are stained with a colour that I doubt a name has been made for. I slide into my chair and my desk is covered with graffiti. "Randy wz here" and "Mhz QueenB" were just some of the things tattooed on my desk. Don't even get me started on the dirty ones. I look on the floor, at the space between me and the desk beside me, and I find tyre marks. A look of confusion comes across my face, then as if the person could read my mind, she says, "That's Jake's bike."
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "He rode his bike in the class?"
"What are yah? Blind?" she says popping the gum in her mouth. "Jake's been doing this for days now. Where the heck have you been?"
I don't reply but instead I turn around in my seat and just in time; my history teacher, Mr. Norris has arrived.History class wasn't so bad. I learnt about the American Civil Wars and I know what's coming on the Pop Quiz Friday. As for the rest of the class, they'll be completely clueless Friday-everyone fell asleep except for me and this one girl who kept taking notes, even the unnecessary things. Well, maybe to her they are necessary.
I walk home alone. I trudge hopelessly hanging my head. In shame? No, it's the fact that I have no friends, my family is gone and I am left to try and survive in this world. My mother would always tell me that no matter what, I should always stay optimistic. But how can I? Despite the fact that she is completely true, its not like my heart is made of metal. Then again, she also told me that when I have reached the breaking point, I should think rationally and evaluate the most successful options.
"Remember, water doesnt run through your veins, blood does and whenever you feel like breaking free, I will be here. " She would say.
Then I would inquire, "But what happens when youre not here-when youre gone?"
"Then I will be in the Heavens, guiding you all the way."
"Nice save." We laughed together and told each other weird stories, then shortly after, I would fall asleep.But what happened to mom? Is she in the Heavens like she said she would be or is she rotting away beneath me? The thought rummages through my brain until it finds a safe corner to curl up and forget, forget about everything.
Beep! Beep!
I scream, realizing I have stopped in the middle of the road.
"Hey! Get outta the way!" A taxi driver peeps through his window, waving his arms around.
I stare at him as if trying to use some sort of mind powers to make him burst into flames but i fail horribly, he just continues to wave his arms like a maniac.
"Well, are you just going to stand there or are you gonna move outta the way?" He continues shouting. It's as if my body is here but my mind has taken a walk, a walk that it might not come from.
"Look, I got passengers in here that need to-" I see him stop screaming but gazing beyond me, staring at God knows what. I swallow hard and hold my breath, afraid to see something that may scar me forever. His mouth drops open and red streaks run down his forehead; his eyes roll back into his sockets showing only white. I slowly turn around and what I see is pure destruction; it stares me right in the eyes, unafraid and dominant, and I stare back, reflecting that courage and strength. The towering buildings collapse before my eyes, destroying everything in its path leaving cracks and potholes in the roads. I still stand there watching...waiting. Maybe this is my gift-taking me away from this waste of a life, yet I still feel I should be running for my life like everyone else around me. Smoke-like dust rises up from the earth as every tree falls to take the place of a parked vehicle and I keep my stance, trying to decipher what is hiding behind all that chaos. I'm unsuccessful so I sit on the ground, folding my legs under and hold out my arms. I've reached the breaking point. There are options but I will take none of them. Im breaking free...
Phoenix. My mother's voice surfaces. You need to get somewhere safe. I try and block out her words. They cannot help me at this moment. Maybe I'm just waiting for my mind to come back from that walk, but what if its lost? Then, her words would definitely have no purpose.
The sky is overcast. Zigzagging streaks of gold decorate the dark sky followed by tremulous sounds of thunder. The rain begins to drizzle and I hold out my hands trying to catch each drop. Sinuously, the destruction continues to charge towards me as if giving me time to decide whether to run away or sit here and die. But haven't I already? My mind has taken my brain and left the rest of me for dead. I hold up my arms above my head, my eyes shut as tight as possible.
Please, Phoenix. Please get up. A tear crawls down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. I will not change my mind. There is nothing left to live for.
Then, a force pulls at one of my arms causing me to jump off the ground, breaking the monotony of my life. A curly-haired boy, around my age, has my arm tightly in his grasp. I do nothing except stare into his alluring, light brown eyes, words refusing to escape my mouth.
"C'mon, we need to get out of here." His unctuous voice is smooth and persuasive so my body relents and goes along with him.
We jog until we come across an abandoned warehouse just a few blocks away from my house. It's spine-chilling appearance screams death and declining years. The mysterious fog swirling around the top of the building rubs me the wrong way, but then again, it is cold outside.
"Lets go inside." He says waving me towards the first door on the right. "We'll be safe until it passes."
We go through the door and go into a filing room. He pushes the rusty file cabinets into a corner revealing a wooden cellar door. With maximum force, he pulls the door up and old, creaky stairs meet my eyes. Slowly, we move down the stairs, shutting the cellar door upon reaching inside and I can't help but feel that I am making the biggest step of my life.
_________________________________________
Hey guys thanks for reading so far. Please vote and comment what you think. This hasn't been edited yet so yea. Hope you are liking it. There is more to come... ;)
YOU ARE READING
Nightingale[PAUSED]
Mystery / Thriller"There is no one like you." My breathing slows and I gasp for a bit of oxygen. "There will never be anyone like you." I bite the inside of my lip, my pulse speeds up and I feel that at any moment, my heart might escape from my chest. "You are the Ph...