D3ADLY S!N

The Tip Of The Iceberg

As we left the bathroom, I felt the words I read truly sink in. Sure, I was happy about it..... But what about the people that truly mattered to me? Random students wrote the words that brought me a smug  satisfaction.

Jade didn't write anything, but I was sure she sort of liked the new me. My parents didn't write anything, I was positive they wouldn't like anything about how I am now.

The teachers didn't write anything and I was sure they wouldn't appreciate my new behavior.

But Mr. Hall......

I parted with Jade at the end of the hallway and headed to class with a façade of confidence. I could most definitely handle seeing Mr. Hall after last night. I could manage not to blush. I could even keep a straight face when I knew David was a few seats away.

I opened the door and my plans shattered.

Mr. Hall wasn't there. Instead, a tall woman with her golden hair pinned up in a tight bun, stood at his desk, reading over the lesson plan. I normally would've brushed this off, teachers were absent all the time.

But, the woman........ she is from the dreams I've been having. I remembered her name there, P. What the hell did it stand for?

I put my things on my desk and noticed a line of students at the teacher's desk, handing in their homework. I sighed, got the assignment from my bag and stood at the end of the line.

As I made it to the front, I noticed the woman had a gradebook as well as a notebook tucked under her arm. The notebook from the dream! Why did she keep it in plain sight, I don't know.

"You're assignment, please."

My thoughts were interrupted by her haughty voice. I handed her the paper and noticed her eyes widen. I looked down at my hand to see my sleeve had rolled back a bit, revealing the mark.

The woman blinked and took the assignment, clearing her throat as she adverted her eyes away from my wrist.

"Thank you. You may go back to your seat-"

"Where did you get that notebook?" I blurted.

She looked down at me incredulously and I felt increasingly embarrassed.

"Ahh, never mind." I stuttered as I made my way back to my seat.

Class dragged on as the woman who never told us her name, stood at the board and wrote complex equations for us to solve. I kept drifting off, my attention somehow going back to the notebook. I was drawn to it.

If my dreams made any sense, my name would be inside the notebook. It would be proof that I wasn't insane. Well, more like a sort of closure for myself. The things that were happening were already insane in general.

"Persephone! " The woman called.

"....!Yes, Ms. Hall? " I gasped in surprise.

My classmates snickered at my error but the woman had a look of surprise on her face. The dream was right...... she was Mr. Hall's sister. Nobody knew except her and apparently me.

The bell rang and Ms. Hall stayed at the board, writing more equations. The other students left quickly, eager to go home but I stayed behind. The notebook was sitting on the desk, only a few feet away. I desperately wanted to figure out what was going on. With the notebook, maybe I'd be able to get my bearings.

Silently walking past the desk, I slipped the notebook into my messenger bag. It felt  surprisingly heavy for a notebook that size. Either that, or it was the guilt weighing me down.

I walked out of the classroom, keeping a straight face. The thought of guilt instantly disappearing from my mind.

Apparently I didn't have a good conscious anymore.

The further I got from school, the more aware I was of everything. I was on edge, I didn't want anyone else to see the notebook. I made sure to keep a steady pace despite the need to sprint home and lock all of the doors.

Lightly walking up the stairs, I reached for the door knob only for It to turn by itself. The door flung open revealing my mother's thin figure and usual countenance. I walked over the threshold and tried to pass her in vain.

"Persephone.....look at me!!!"

I stopped in my tracks, cringing before turning to face her. I was so close to my room, Why did she have to be home today?

"What?"

"Well, I barely get to see you...you used to be, well, upset about that. Don't you want to spend time together?"  She asked with a hopeful smile.

"No"  I answered simply, watching as her smile disappear from her face.

"No? Why?"

"Why? ill give you a few good reasons why."  I growled, gritting my teeth.   "You and dad for that matter, have never been there for me when I needed. You've been off  on business trips while I had to basically take care of myself for these past few years."

"Persephone! Your father and I support you! These jobs we have got us this!"  she gestured around the house.

I shook my head while letting out a short bitter laugh.

"I just think its funny. You cant make up a childhood with half an hour of quality time"

I instinctively bought up my arm and stopped my mom's hand mid-air. She actually tried to slap me, as if what I said isn't true. I locked eyes with her and arched an eyebrow.

".....what is that?"  she grasped, seeing the mark on my wrist. "You got a tattoo?"

"I'm just surprised you took the time to notice anything about me"  I murmured while letting go of her.

She stood there utterly speechless as I turned and walked up to my room, slamming the door shut. That felt.....empowering, Finally telling at least one of my parents how I felt. What I said was just the tip of the iceberg but the little I did say has been nudging on my mind for years now. I sighed and opened my bag, taking out the notebook. It was leather with some sort of symbol on the cover. To my relief it wasn't locked or anything, so I immediately opened it.

The front page had just one word:

PRIDE.

flipping through the pages, I saw that the notebook was more of a journal of some kind. some pages were written in a language I couldn't understand, but others told of people....basically acting better than everyone else and thinking that were better.

Remembering the dream, I turned to the last page of the book. There, written in red ink, was my name.

PERSEPHONE STATHIS.

But, the page was also written in the language I couldn't understand. Why would anything about me be in anything but the English Language? To make it more difficult to read, I guessed. Maybe I wasn't meant to read the book, let alone have it in my possession. At the thought, I ripped the page out and tucked it into my pocket.

Suddenly, the book felt as if it was on fire. I released it in shock and dropped it to the floor, with a muffled thud against the carpet. A grey-ish haze surrounded it, and in a split second it vanished.

I blinked in disbelief. I just witnessed something vanish into thin air.

I smiled while remembering the paper I stuffed in my pocket. I still had some evidence from the book.

I took the paper out of my pocket and unfolded it. I was as happy as a leprechaun with its first pot of gold, until I saw it.

The page was blank.