Breathe your last

Chapter 1: Assignments

The freezing wind created a large contrast against my warm tear stained cheeks as I was running. Running in a forest that contained large trees with branches spanning off into a large sky leaving their ends unseen.

But they did not bear the usual colour of brown. They did not have the usual curve which branches possessed.  Instead they were black with harsh jagged branches and bore no leaves.

I did not particularly know what I was running from but I dare not look back. All I knew was that every sense and fibre of my being told me to run. Fear was a large emotion gracing my presence and driving me on. I kept going until I felt cold, monstrous claws impale themselves deep into my back causing searingly hot blood to run down my back. The claws were digging deeper as though it was trying to cut the life out of me. But to my dismay I remain alive and well aware of the pain. I was screaming. Until I woke up.

I woke up screaming but the second my eyes were open and I recognised the grey walls of my room I stopped my screams not wanting to awaken the rest of the household, which only consisted of my dad.

Sunlight was streaming through my thin pale grey curtains, I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed. It was 6:54. I had to be up by 7 to leave at 8 so I decided there was no point in going back to bed. As I got up and stretched I noticed bruises forming in the pale skin of my arms. I assumed I was thrashing out in my sleep again. The nightmares had became a constant in my life along with the bruises. They came hand in hand I suppose.

As I went through my normal morning routine, dressing into my new school uniform consisting of a blue skirt and white top, tying my hair and applying very minimal make up, I went down to get breakfast and was greeted by my father, unusual for him to be up this early.

"Morning" he said gripping his warm coffee mug between his pale fingers. I returned the greeting whilst grabbing a box of corn flakes from the cupboard.  I made my breakfast and went to sit across from him at the large dining room table.

"Are you having the nightmares again?" We live in a small town practically in the middle of nowhere.  We were here a while ago and after my parents divorced my mom took to drinking so I went to stay with my dad up in Africa. We came back a week ago after she passed. I have been having nightmares ever since I was a little girl here, when we moved away when I was 12 they stopped, but now that we're back the nightmares are too. 5 years I lived without them,  5 years of peace now gone. 

"No I was probably sleep walking again." I say. I did not want to trouble my dad as he had enough of his worries. He was a handsome man of 6'2 with dark hair and pale green eyes. But the years have taken their toll on him. He was merely 47. I have been convincing my parents ever since I was 10 thats the nightmares left, I know they could not hear me screaming for this was a large spacious house, the only indication they got was the bruises which started when I was 11. I managed to convince them it was probably sleep walking. Mom always believed me but dad didn't,  but he makes no move to show his disbelief to my relief.

We finish our breakfast in silence until its 8, I kiss him on the cheeck as he mutters a goodbye and I start the 5 minute walk to the bus stop. The bus ride is short and as I enter the premises of my new, old school and I am greeted with every single pair of eyes present. I had plain black curly hair and piercing blue eyes but would not say it is my look that attracted everyone's attention.  But rather the fact that I have not been here in so long and in such a small town everyone knows everyone.

I am now the outsider.

I walked into the school trying to avoid the watchful eye of my now fellow students. I was glad I quickly threw on the schools designated grey jersey to hide the bruises and atleast it was quite cold out ruling out the possibility of further suspicion. 

I went to the front desk and grabbed my schedule and went to my locker to place any unnecessary books inside. The bell rings as I make it to my first class, history. I took a seat right at the back and nobody made a move to sit next to me. Making the chair next to me the only unoccupied one.

We are greeted with a substitute teacher being informed our actual teacher was going to be in by tomorrow.  The substitute teacher did however give us our first assignment for the term.

"History ladies and gentlemen play a large role within our present lives overall efecting our near future." She begins. "There are many different topics and subjects within the broad nature that is history. I want you to pick a modern day topic that dates back to the early 1900's that is still present today. You are to do a research essay containing 1 500 words no less. Due next Monday.  You may make use of your phones now to begin the research. It is expected of you to create a hand written rough draft and a typed out final to he handed in together. You may begin."

As she opened her mouth to add something somebody came in the classroom looking disheveled and stressed. He was simply wearing the schools khaki long pants and plain white shirt braving the cold. He had blonde hair and greyish brown eyes.

He whispered something to the woman and she shook her head and told him what we are to do, I assume. His eyes roamed the classroom and he made his way to the seat next to mine. I locked my eyes with his and only redirected my attention once he sat next to me.

The teacher opened her mouth again to finished her sentence she was about to begin before this boy walked in. "It is a partner assignment. You will be working with the person next to you."

Lucky me.....

"Hey,  I'm Dan" The boy next to me said turning his body to face me. He was quite attractive that much I will admit. 

"Hazel", I said, not sure what else to say.

"So um assignments,  what did you have in mind?" He says rather awkwardly, glancing at my open notebook.  His eyes widened slightly at the large heading I had sketched and an emotion passed through his eyes but dissappeared before I had the chance to decipher which emotion it was.

The heading read: Demons.

He shifted in his seat looking rather uncomfortable. "Wouldn't you like to choose something a little less demonic?" He said raising a dark eyebrow.

"It is interesting to me and dates back far beyond our time. It is different from any Apartheid or Holocaust paper rendering it more interesting probably gaining us bonus marks." I said arguing my point. "But if you want to change it..." I attempted trying to soften the blow of my words.

"Daemons" he said interrupting me.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"Rather call them daemons, not demons. It is the archaic referral to demons.  If we are doing this we might as well remain historically correct? "

"Archaic?" I questioned ignoring his ignorant rhetorical question.

"Meaning old fashioned, or early period of cultural language especially in Greece,  around the 6th and 7th century BC." He rectifies.

I nodded my head, impressd at his coincidental knowledge.  As soon as the bell had rung he left. Leaving me slightly confused as to what to do with our project.