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"The Awakening" Comments needed (NEW - Chapter 5 is up/PG 16 for some Swearing and graphic Vilolence)

PrimalFear

By PrimalFear
in Creative Writing

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  1. 1. Why do you like this story?

    • The way its written
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    • In joy the Suspenseful Mysteries of the Characters
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PrimalFear

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[align=center]Hello all and welcome to my new FanFic called, "The Awakening". Its a work in progress and I have been extremely busy with work and other life stuff. But for my Fans and future fans of my writing I leave you with a interesting story that will be continued in the near future. To any one who wishes to Subscribe to this thread, PM me and I will update you here to the bottom of the thread on the Subscriptions list. At the point of a new release and or any updates to the story I will PM you and let you know that the new Chapter is up or that I have made Updates on the story. Thank you to all who read this FanFic and hope you in joy the story!!!

 

Vol. 1 Prologue

Vol. 1 Chapter 1

Vol. 1 Chapter 2

Vol. 1 Chapter 3

Vol. 1 Chapter 4

Vol. 1 Chapter 5

 

 

 

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PrimalFear Newbie

PrimalFear

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Thanks Mirage looking forward in hearing from everyone on how it is.

 

[spoiler=Vol. 1 Prologue]

 

Taking the long way to school had become a consistent habit this month. Every morning was the same routine: wake up late, take a five minute shower, and run out the house with a half-eaten piece of toast in my hand. But what my parents didn’t know was that I was a cold-blood liar, and not only that, but an outcast by my own choice. I could imagine Mother washing the dishes and Father reading the sports section of the newspaper whilst they pondered about me, referring to me as their little princess. It was disgusting and it made me wonder if they wished I was a blond cheerleader instead of a redhead elite member of the debate team. While they sat at home thinking that I was riding that yellow school bus with all those shallow kids, I was jumping gates and taking a road through a filthy marsh.

 

It was a shortcut, but not a shortcut to school.

 

After the Marsh was an abandoned road with demolished streets and trees that looked eerie in the morning time. The place didn’t have a name so I referred to it as ‘Peculiar Amazement Avenue.’ It was like my own little world where I was the ruler and all of my citizens dead but obedient. Such thoughts always sent shivers up my spine, but not ones that frightened me. It was indescribable; yet I was sure it wasn’t fear.

 

Although it was a nice way for me to forget about reality, I didn’t come to ‘Peculiar Amazement Avenue’ just to fantasize about impossibilities; I came to see what really chilled me, what really intrigued me.

 

I came to see him.

 

In an old, abandoned park near the middle of the ghost town, near the middle of my town, there were rusty swings and slides caked in mud and rain. And there was a wooden bench that I had come to know even better than the back of my hand. But the bench, with all of its holes and raggedly build, was only where my addiction sat.

 

I would take a quick glimpse and see him there holding his knees, his brownish-blond hair matted to his head as if he had just got through sweating. No matter what, whether the day was rainy or hot, he would always be there in the same exact formation, his head buried in his knees.

 

When I had first seen him so many days ago I thought he was crying, but now as I look at him I know that is not it. He is tired, but of what?

 

Today I would find out. Today, I told myself confidently, would be different. I would gather the guts to walk into the park and talk to him, I would figure out why he doesn’t go to school a day in his life so that I could stop having dreams and nightmares about him. I was too intrigued by him, too infatuated with him.

 

I quickened my pace now, hurrying to see a glimpse of him, but when I got there I lost all sense of mind. There he was, the King of the Park. He looked the same as always. His lanky legs up to his face, his arms wrapped around them as if they would run away. Except this time something was different, something was horribly wrong. His head was no longer buried in his knees, but up and looking straight ahead...straight ahead at me. I had always believed that I saw him as a ghost and he saw me as a ghost, and that we would never know we were right in front of each other but it was a stupid fantasy, a naïve fantasy.

 

I realized now that he was what really sent a chill up my spine. The silly thing about it was that he was the only one who had this effect on me. He scared me because he intimidated me without even speaking a word. And now he scared me even more because of his piercing eyes. They were blank and...Silver.

 

He held my stare for quite some time before I ran away, going back through the marshes and taking another path to school. I had never been so scared in my life, yet I had never felt so alive.

 

The King of the Park was not only the only somewhat alive person in my ghost town, but also the only person who could make me feel like hiding under a rock and never coming out ever again. I secretly named him Silver

 

Silver the boy of amazement.

 

 

[spoiler=Vol.1 Chapter 1]

“Your daughter has been tardy for more than a week and a half,” Started Mrs. Grey, fixing her maroon glasses. “I am concerned. What has she been doing that is so much more important than coming to school on time?”

 

Father looked at Mother, and Mother looked at me. Their expression seemed to emphasize Mrs. Grey’s question, but I put a stupid look on my face like I had no idea what in the world they were talking about. I still couldn’t believe that Mrs. Grey would lie to my parents, and to me, right through her own teeth. She was as concerned about my tardiness as a little kid is about eating their vegetables. Mrs. Grey could care less.

 

When no one answered the question and the silence became almost suffocating, Mrs. Grey spoke once again. “Maybe I should redirect the question to Mrs. Lorissa?”

 

We made eye contact right then, her deep black eyes fixed upon me unblinkingly. Maybe she thought that was intimidating, that just the mere sight of her eyes would send me on a road to truth, but she had been terribly wrong. The only one capable of sending shivers down my spine is Silver.

 

Trying not to compete with Mrs. Grey, I answered her question with a shrug of my shoulders, and that was that. She shook her head, turned her attention to my parents, and informed them that excessive tardiness would place me in in-school suspension. The meeting ended in less than five minutes.

 

There was only silence as we headed out to the car. The time we first arrived here mother and father seemed very happy. I hadn’t exactly told my parents that we wouldn’t be going up to the school for something good, but that’s what they believed. There was no point in making them upset at me before they had even gotten there so I decided to keep them thinking. But when we climbed in the car –Mother driving, Father in the passenger seat, and me in the back-They only turned the radio up and drove in silence. Than my father turned to me and asked, “What’s in-school suspension?”

 

“In-school suspension is when, instead of going to all of your normal classes, you stay in the office and do the work in there. It’s kind of like you’re not even at school.”

 

Father nodded his head and turned back to the front. Afterward, mother drove all the way back home, our car enveloped in silence.

 

 

When we got back home I expected to be put on punishment or something of the sort, but they had said nothing to me. They did everything they would usually do; Mother went into the kitchen and began looking in the refrigerator for dinner, and father went and sat back in his lazy-boy armchair to finish this morning’s newspaper. I wondered whether I should do the usual too and go up to my room, but as I headed up the steps I decided that would be beyond boring. I had no desire to watch television or to read that book that I had been trying to finish for almost a year now, so what was the point of lying in the bed and staring at the paint in the ceiling crack? I’m not sure where I will go and what I will do, but anything’s better than staying in here.

 

***

I walked the streets by myself, my mind on many things varying from Silver the Boy of Amazement to what would take place tomorrow in in-school suspension. Then my mind settled on one thought: It had been a while since I could bring myself to visit my grandmother’s grave, and since I was near the cemetery I thought to myself, ‘why not?’

 

I began to realize for the first time just how dark it was becoming. The morning sun was being replaced by the moon, and the bright light from the sun was replaced by street lights and the eerie glow of the moon. Dinner would be ready by now, and I wondered if my parents were worrying about me at this moment. I put the thought behind me and passed the gate to the graveyard with no reluctance whatsoever. When most people think of going to the graveyard at this time of night the first thing they feel is fear. If anything, I always thought, you should fear what lives more than what is already dead. Believe it or not, one who is alive can do more damage than one who is already dead and buried in the ground. I don’t believe in zombies or ghosts, vampires or ghouls, but I do believe in demonic people. Although my mind has always been a bit morbid, it takes real proof to convince me.

 

Grandmother was buried in the deep of the cemetery. I had to walk for a long time to reach her. I listened to the trees rustle in the wind, and I felt my hair being whipped around my head by the strong winds. That didn’t stop me. I had that feeling again; that feeling deep within the barriers of my heart that only Silver could give me. It was like the wind was calling my name, whispering in my ear, ‘Lorissa come...’ I was intrigued, but at the same time scared of what I did not know. I began to follow it, but stopped when I realized that it was leading me away from my destination. I told myself I would investigate later and kept walking ahead.

 

I was finally there.

 

On my grandmother’s tombstone the words read:

 

‘Annabelle Palaskey

1930 – 2005’

 

The flowers were withered and I was upset that I had forgotten to bring some of my own. In this neighborhood everyone seemed to have flowers planted in their yards; they wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one for my grandmother. Because I had nothing to give her, I decided I would at least try to talk to her. She was the only one who ever understood me. I never looked at her as my grandmother, because she didn’t look or act like one. I went through my whole life calling her the Golden Belle. Mother thought it was an insult beyond insults, but my grandmother thought it was perfect and advised everyone else to call her that or else she wouldn’t answer. Grandmother Golden Belle told me the night before she died that, “Although my body might be dead, that doesn’t mean I am. I want you to come and tell me stories like I told you. Your mother, she refuses to carry on the tradition, but you are like a needle in a haystack; hard to find but beyond valuable.”

 

Whenever I could I would go to my grandmother’s grave and tell her a story. I was going to tell her all about Silver and how he was alive but not alive at the same time, but as I moved my mouth to speak I heard a sound above me in the trees and the wind seemed to be screaming with anticipation, almost pulling my shirt off my back. Curious, I looked up to the large tree hanging over my head and saw a familiar figure crouching in the branches. That feeling of being intrigued and afraid became even greater in my heart when I realized just who I was looking at.

 

In a very soft voice that sounded as if it hadn’t been used in years, he said to me, “Golden Belle.....does not lie.”

 

 

[spoiler=Vol.1 Chapter 2]

I was more than surprised to see Silver looking down at me with such wide eyes, as though I was the one he feared. Although he was wearing the same clothes-a stained white shirt and faded blue jeans with many holes in them-there was something that looked different about his suit now that he was standing in this position.

 

Than I noticed it, my heart beating rapidly against my chest so hard that it felt as though it would fly out, a shiver from more than the cold wind rising up my spine; Now there was blood dripping from his shirt and jeans...obviously fresh blood most likely not his own. And his shirt; it was ripped like someone had scratched him continuously, though I couldn’t see any signs of new scratch marks on his stomach and chest. The shirt was barely on his body any more.

 

With a look of alarm, Silver quickly turned his head the other way, backing up farther into the shadows as though to hide himself from my sight. Than he spoke again, his voice quivering with something mixed with fear and sadness. “I was just saying that Golden Belle...s-she said that there would be another...another one that would...” He paused for a long time and I had half the mind to run, leaving my pride and dignity stranded in this cemetery. I restrained myself though. How did he know about my grandmother and her name that I had given her? Now that I was more surprised then afraid, I stood up gradually, brushing some dirt off of my shoulder and coughing to try and find my voice once more.

 

“Another one who would do what?” I asked indignantly, surprising Silver and myself at the same time. He made some type of gasping sound as though he was astonished that I was capable of speaking and then he went completely silent. I stood there alone for five minutes at the most, my hair blowing into my mouth continuously, anger building up inside of me. Was he even still there?

 

Completely ignoring my question, Silver hissed, “Foolish Boy! That’s what I am! Am I capable of doing anything right without”—There was a rustling sound, and then he fell out of the tree on his back, right beside my feet. I moved to try and help him up, but when he realized what I was trying to do his eyes grew wide again and he scurried away from me. I couldn’t believe it, but Silver seemed to be more afraid of me than I was of him. I couldn’t stop my eyebrow from rising as he backed farther and farther away from me every time I moved a bit closer to him. It was all kind of amusing in a very twisted way. It was pointless, so I stopped moving and stood still. He did the same, sighing in relief. In a dazed voice he said to me, “You look just like her. Your eyes, your hair, even your voice. But you wouldn’t understand...”

 

I was curious, and a bit enraged that he was trying to label me of not being understanding even before he knew who I was. “If you would just tell me first then we’d both be able to know whether I would be able to understand or not.”

 

When we made eye contact I couldn’t take my eyes off of his; His silver eyes were just so intriguing and irresistible. I’m not sure what my facial expression was right now, but he looked puzzled and kind of like a lost puppy. It made me angry at myself for not having the decency to at least ask him what he had been through first. This is exactly why I was never a people person.

 

“You’re right,” he spoke, his voice now a bit stronger than before. “Why should I be judging anyone? If you are the next Golden Belle than you should know...yes, you should.” He sighed, taking a very deep breath as though he was about to tell me he killed my parents, and then he continued with reluctance. “The Golden Belle must”—

 

I couldn’t believe it! Out of all the times my mother could’ve chosen to call me, she decides to do it right now. Silver stopped talking instantly, his tense muscles and face relaxing. I was so angry that I almost didn’t answer the phone, but I decided it wouldn’t be right to make my parents upset two times in one day.

 

Turning the opposite way, I spoke into the receiver. “Hello,” I said.

 

“Where have you been?” Mother asked.

 

“Nowhere,” I replied quickly. “I’m coming home right now.”

 

There was silence as though mother had no idea what to say next. “I’m sorry if I made you worry,” I added, hoping that would clear up some fog.

 

“Well...the food isn’t too cold. Hurry home so we can eat already.” I had forgotten that Mother refused to eat dinner unless we were all at home. It was some family tradition she invented, and it seemed to upset Father the most. Sometimes I would be gone so long that dad would sneak and go to a resteraunt.

 

“Okay, I’m on my way right now. I’ll be there in less than five minutes, bye.” I hung up before she could reply.

 

When I put my cell phone back in my pocket, I turned to where Silver should have been only to see nothing but a few trees and tombstone’s. I wanted to pretend like I didn’t know he would do something like this, but I could tell by his facial expressions that he couldn’t wait to be away from me. Groaning, I turned around on my heel and headed back home. Silver had done nothing more than put thoughts into my head that would be giving me nightmares for at least two weeks.

 

When I walked into the house I was bombarded by all of the bright lights in the living room and the sound of the TV. I was so used to the silence and darkness that came along with roaming this neighborhood at night that this change in atmosphere was overwhelming. I blinked my eyes continuously, trying to readjust to my surroundings, and made my way to the kitchen.

 

My parents were sitting at the table, empty plates in front of them. They were both having some type of conversation I’m sure I wouldn’t want to be included in; mother was giggling like a school girl, and father was talking vividly, his brown eyes sparkling with glee.

 

“So what’s up?” I interrupted, sitting down hard onto the chair at the head of the table. I hadn’t known just how exhausted I was until now.

 

Dad instantly stopped talking, and mother looked at me as though I was a stranger. Then she said, “Nothing at all darling. Your father and I were just catching up on things. But that’s beside the point. Dinner will be served, and I cooked your favorite!”

 

She got up quickly, hurried over to the oven, and pulled out cheeseburgers and some fries. I wanted to tell her that hamburgers had never been my favorite type of food, but I decided not to; she seemed so happy as she passed out the food—putting a cheeseburger and handful of fries on my plate, and two double cheeseburgers and the whole thing of fries on father’s plate—that I didn’t want to disturb her. Then again, she was happy every day, or at least seemed to be.

 

The three of us sat in silence as we ate. I was the first to finish, but I was sure it was because father and mother kept passing each other certain looks, and then looking at me afterwards. Evidently, they were too indulged with something to do with me to concentrate completely on eating.

 

My chair made a loud creaking noise as I quickly jumped out of it. If I just hurry up stairs, maybe they’ll save their words for another day, I thought to myself. I was interested in knowing what concerned them so much, but I was more sleepy than curious. I already had a full plate of things to think about.

 

Much to my dismay, Father called my name when I was barely an inch away from the stairwell. I cursed under my breath, and then, with one foot in front of the other, I walked slowly back into the kitchen. They both stared at me...hard, as though trying to look through my soul. I nearly flinched. Mother looked all around the room in a nervous state, and father began to tangle and un-tangle his fingers continuously. He announced, “Um, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

 

“Talk about what?” I asked.

 

Before the words were hardly out of my mouth, my mother answered, “Never mind. You should go to bed, it’s getting really late.”

 

Her words struck me as odd; it wasn’t all that late. Matter-of-factly, it was only nine o’ clock. She didn’t even go to sleep this early. But I didn’t voice my feelings like I felt myself wanting to do so badly. I just nodded my head and left from out of the kitchen. It was the only sensible thing to do.

 

I could feel my eyebrows rising. Was it just me, or was my life getting weirder and weirder by the second?

 

 

[spoiler=Vol.1 Chapter 3]

Peculiar Amazement Avenue lost its thrill without Silver being there. Every time I would walk past the park I would expect to see him sitting on his bench. After awhile my expectations turned into hope, and hope turned into doubt. Had I scared him away? It did seem to be something I was good at doing. But I hadn’t meant to this time. All I wanted to do was talk to him, to learn something about myself that I didn’t already know. How I had managed to scare my own fear away I had now idea whatsoever.

 

The only thing soon to happen to me that was apart from the usual was the in-school suspension. I went from dreading it, to anticipating its arrival. I was anxious for something new to happen, and, since this was the only thing I had never done before, I decided it would have to do. What exactly I would be doing in in-school suspension I didn’t know, but I was sure there would be loads of work involved; that couldn’t be that bad. A little bit of work wouldn’t discipline me, or even be proper punishment in that case. When Monday rolled around, I was more than prepared to get the suspension over with.

 

It seemed as though my parents had completely forgotten about the in-school suspension, but I wasn’t surprised. While my week of boredom went by as quick as wind, they enjoyed themselves on ‘Business outings,’ leaving me completely out of their plans. That I didn’t mind, but I was curious about where they had been going lately. It was quite unusual. They were the type of married couple that sat in the house all day doing and saying nothing of any importance. What had brought this change about them?

 

Mother gave me a quick, sloppy kiss on the cheeks while I was getting ready to leave the house. “The bus is here!” she informed me. I waved back at her completely out of habit. When I was far from the house and I knew for sure she was not looking in the window after me, I immediately wiped the lipstick stain off of my cheek. I was actually going to ride the bus today and I didn’t want to give people more of a reason to whisper things about me under their breath. I’ve always wanted to tell mom that I was getting too old for her kisses but I felt that would be a cruel thing to say; it was like trying to tell a little kid that Santa Claus had never existed.

 

I let all of the other people at the bus stop board before me. Soon the crowd of people had weakened and there was a line of three people climbing the steps onto the bus. I stepped behind them, looking, unconsciously, at their heads with every step I took. I was barely inside the bus when the doors shut and loud sounds of students overwhelmed me. Almost instantly, I regretted ever wanting to get on the bus.

 

“Show me your I.D.,” The bus driver grunted. He had a bald head with small bits of grey hair by his ears, and his lips were in a tight line. His eyes were averted at me like I was bound to whip out a gun and shoot him any second now. I was so wrapped up in his disgruntled expression that I had completely forgotten about his question.

 

His voice louder, his grip on the steering wheel a bit tighter, the bus driver spat, “Your I.D. kid! If you don’t show me, you get the boot. Hurry up now! You’re wasting valuable time.” I realized just then that the bus was not moving. People that I did not know were shouting complaints at me. “Hurry up will ya’!” one boy shouted far from the back. Another girl joked, “Stall as much as you want! There’s nothing better than wasting valuable school time!” A group of students burst out in laughter, causing a vein in the old bus driver’s neck to nearly pop. He looked as though he was about to explode! In hopes to avoid any more unnecessary spitting and screaming, I hurried and whipped my I.D. out of my pocket. The man never lost his look of fury, but he waved his hand as if to shoo off a fly and instantly began to drive. I had to hum to stop myself from turning around and giving him a huge piece of my mind.

 

A problem that I regularly had in the lunchroom arose. There was nowhere to sit. I looked on both sides of me as I walked down the bus aisle, flying this way and that every time the bus made a wacky turn. I saw no empty seats at all. However, I did see some pretty funny stuff on my journey to find a place to sit. Four girls and one boy had managed to squish themselves into one seat and they were all pushing each other back in forth, screaming and laughing the entire time. The boy had a satisfied expression on his face (He happened to be in the middle). In another seat, two boys were sitting down doing there homework together, unaware that there were two other guys in the seats behind them copying off of their papers. But the funniest thing I had seen so far was the four girls pulling and yanking this guy back and forth, throwing him around like a dodge ball. Evidently he had cheated with all of them at the same time and they had all cornered him down. I knew this because I heard a girl screaming, “You said that I was your special honey bun! Who are those other three girls?”

 

My laughter dyed down when I reached the back of the bus. It was much more quiet and secluded back here, the atmosphere seeming to darken. Aside from the couple making out in the corner of a seat, no body made any sounds. This was exactly where I wanted to be. I headed farther and farther to the back of the bus, hoping to find somewhere where I could sit. That was the benefit of having friends; they always seemed to preserve a seat for you. Unfortunately, I had no friends to do that for me.

 

Then, just when I was about to give up all hope and stand up the rest of the ride, I saw an empty spot next to this black haired boy looking, transfixed, out the window. I could only think about how awkward it would be to sit next to a boy I did not know, but then I shook the thoughts out of my head. Either way, I’d look awkward; standing up wouldn’t make me look even better. Plus, why should I start caring about my appearance now? I was already awkward.

 

I plunged myself into the seat next to him, expecting the stranger to turn around and give me an odd look, but he did nothing of the sort. He just kept staring out of the window. I was happy he was one of those quiet guys. That way I could sit in silence and pretend like I was alone. I wanted to try and think some things out, but with everybody in the front of the bus screaming and giggling, and the image of the bus driver stuck in my head, I found it a little hard to do.

 

After sitting in the bus for almost an hour waiting for a train to pass, it was only obvious that we would be late for school. When we got there the grounds only consisted of other late students rushing to get inside the building. Two boys got into a fight, blocking the corridor. The angry bus man, now livid and red in the face, had to stop them. The very moment he came to break up the fight, groans came from a few students and everybody started jumping over seats to rush off the bus. I thought it was ridiculous; however, the fight meant that I would be able to get off the bus without much problem.

 

“Get away from back there!” The bus driver shouted, limping to the back of the bus, his arm tightly holding one of the fighters. He didn’t have to tell me twice. Right after the make-out couple climbed out of their seats, I followed right behind them. It took the stranger a second warning to get up, and even then he was slow about it. I was halfway off of the bus by the time he stood up.

 

I walked to the school slowly, my brain unable to focus on anything of any importance. A teacher who I didn’t recognize opened the door for me and gestured wildly with her hands, trying to inform me to hurry up. I didn’t move any faster though. What point was there? I’d have to go anyways, whether I wanted to or not.

 

A sudden burst of warmth made my skin tingle. It was definitely your stereotypical school environment this morning. Two very young girls, possibly freshmen, walked past the entrance with their books in hand, giggling uncontrollably. A few minutes later, an older group of boys walked down the hall, pushing each other back and forth. They made loud, childish noises while trying to get the attention of two other girls who went about their business as though they could not hear them. Sighing, I headed up the three small steps and went straight to the office. When I got there I didn’t know what to say. It was full of kids from the bus demanding to be excused of being late, and there was teachers stalking around everywhere. The girl who did the morning announcements hastily gathered her books and rushed out of the office.

 

Mrs. Fritter, an office secretary with short, grey hair and the body of a withering old tree, screamed to me over the crowd, “Why are you here?” Just as I moved my mouth to answer her question, a girl with her jeans pulled up rushed into the office and ran straight to Mrs. Fritter. Her knee was bleeding, and she was explaining in a vivid story about how she slid across the floor trying to save the ball in volleyball practice this morning. Mrs. Fritters rushed her out of the office, telling her off for not going straight to the nurse’s office instead. The bleeding girl gave her a reproachful look as she marched out of the room. It was way too early for all of this.

 

“Okay,” Mrs. Fritters said, turning to me again. “What brings you here?”

 

“In-school suspension!” I managed to scream over the crowd of people. You would think that the office would start to clear up by now, but it was steadily getting worst.

 

“What!?” Mrs. Fritters screamed. She moved to get over to me, but halfway there she was stopped by this lanky senior with short red and green hair. “What’s up Mrs. Titters!” he said to her. The girl standing next to him laughed silently at Mrs. Fritters change in expression.

 

“Detention Ferdinand!” she screamed at him, but he acted as though he could care less, and grabbed the giggling girl’s hand. They burst out in laughter at this, and left the office that instant. I realized they were the couple making out at the back of the bus this morning.

 

“What did you say dear?” Mrs. Fritters said in a voice of forced happiness. Apparently, she was still angry about Ferdinand, and I really didn’t feel like talking to an angry Mrs. Fritters. But it would just make her angrier if I decided to find someone else to ask where to go for in-school suspension.

 

“I’m here for in-school suspension.” Mrs. Fritter narrowed her eyes at me the same way she did at the girl who scraped her knee. Apparently, she believed that I was being ignorant and inconsiderate by wasting her time like other students had done this morning.

 

“Go to the principal’s office!” she screamed. “This-is-the-main-office; it’s not the nurse’s office, it’s not meant for punishment, it’s just the office!” Raising my eyebrow, I got up from my seat slowly. She was so busy murmuring things under her breath that she didn’t even notice that I got up from my seat and left the office.

 

I hate Mondays.

 

Mrs. Grey’s office was quiet and empty. Her workplace had two rooms in one. The room Mrs. Grey sat in was her personal office; but when first setting foot in the room, the first thing you were introduced to was the punishment part of the office. Five raggedly old desks were lined up on the side of the wall to the left, and to the right there was another room that most likely led straight to the main office.

 

“Sit down Mrs. Crawford,” Mrs. Grey said in a cold voice, barely looking up from a pile of papers she seemed to be checking. I stared at her for a second. I could feel myself getting ready to say something very smart-mouthed, but, luckily, I was able to restrain myself. It felt good to know that I still had some type of control over myself.

 

Sitting down at the closest chair, I unzipped my book bag and began to take out a pencil, pen, and some loose leaf paper. I wasn’t able to do much before Mrs. Grey said to me, “There’s no need to take out anything Crawford; I have everything that you’ll need right here. Now if you would just come and get it...”

 

Once again, I had to hum to stop myself from snapping off.

 

When I walked into her office, I instantly felt uncomfortable. Everything was just way too...neat. Her desk looked brand new, and she only had a little more than five folders on her desk. A dandelion in a small pot was sitting far to the right. She was the first person I had seen so far that had no pictures of family on her desk. I’ve always favored people who were organized and knew how to keep stuff together, but I couldn’t force myself to like this environment. In my opinion, it was kind of overwhelming. I’m pretty sure that was what she was aiming for though.

 

It turned out that the large pile of papers she was looking at was for me. She put them in a folder labeled with my name on it, and said, with an icy smile, “In this folder you will find a schedule of what you should be doing and when you should be finished with it. You get one bathroom pass so use it wisely, and you will eat your lunch in here. I will have a model student bring it to you...you know, someone who cares about showing respect and learning.”

 

I couldn’t restrain myself this time. She was getting on my last nerve. “Trust me Mrs. Grey, you haven’t seen disrespect yet,” I said, snatching the paper from her hands. Her smile seemed to grow bigger, and I found myself disliking her more and more. I was starting to get the feeling that she had something against me.

 

“Crawford, with your mouth you’ll land yourself in a week’s worth of in-school suspension. Keep in mind who you are talking to when you speak your mind to me. I am not your friend. Do not treat me like one.”

 

I bit my lip at those words. I found myself humming again as I went back to my desk.

 

“Oh yes; I forgot to tell you that I expect complete silence. That humming of yours does not comply with my rules.”

 

I clenched my fists, sat down into my desk with a loud thud, and looked at the folder she handed me. A pencil fell onto the floor when I opened the folder, but I was caught off guard by the list of things she planned for me to do in a limited amount of time. I couldn’t believe what I was reading! She wanted me to read a ten page short story and answer forty questions in twenty minutes, and the next thing on the list was to copy fifteen pages worth of definitions in thirty minutes. How was I supposed to take any type of break with this schedule? If I spent ten minutes on eating lunch and five minutes going to the bathroom, than I would have skipped one or two assignments. I glanced at the bottom of the page and read, much to my dismay, a note that said, ‘What assignments you have not finished today, will be continued the next day until you are completely finished.’ What a long day this was turning out to be.

 

I was halfway through my first assignment, a head-ache beginning to evade my brain, when I heard voices coming from the door far to the right. Whoever was talking spoke in a very low voice, but I could hear fragments of the conversation. “All you have to do is finish your work Augustine and things will be fine...” Somebody, most likely this Augustine boy, unclearly muttered something in reply. Feeling a bit nosy at the moment and with nothing else better to do, I quickly glanced over my shoulder to make sure that Mrs. Grey was still enveloped in her work before I tried to move my desk over just enough to hear a small bit more. That proved not to work at all, but it turned out I didn’t have to move any closer to hear the next few words.

 

“If you are troubled, I am here to help you!” the lady squeaked, her voice sounding unnaturally high.

 

“Don’t touch me! I don’t need any help. I’m just fine,” A voice replied dangerously

 

“I’m just trying to comfort you,” the woman soothed, her voice now gentle. “But I can’t help you if you won’t let me through that wall you’ve built around yourself.”

 

“I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME!” I jumped, not expecting the boy to scream anything, but Mrs. Grey didn’t even flinch. She kept her eyes fixed on her papers as though nothing had just happened.

 

The door flew open abruptly and someone with a livid face marched loudly into the office. I hid myself into my papers when he stumped past my desk. He paid no mind to me or the teacher pursuing him, and went straight into Mrs. Grey’s office, dropping his book bag harshly on the floor. Seeing as how this was much more interesting than work, I softly put my pencil down and listened intently. I nearly climbed on my knees trying to see as much as possible.

 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Grey...Augustine out of line again...making all of that racket...” The small teacher said, obviously at a loss of words. She kept her eyes on her feet, as though she were afraid to meet Mrs. Grey’s eyes.

 

“That will be all Kathleen. I’ll handle him,” replied Mrs. Grey. And the short, stubby little teacher left out of her room with no questions at all. She looked at me quickly and moved her mouth to say something, but she seemed to decide better of it and kept going.

 

Mrs. Grey pulled out one of her desk drawers and rummaged through it until she brought out a large, yellow folder similar to mines. The stranger briskly snatched the folder from out of her hands. I noticed that his hands were trembling of anger. For some odd reason this angry, gaunt boy looked familiar to me. I know I had seen him somewhere before.

 

“Mr. Haze, it’s so nice to see you here with me again. A remarkable record this must be for you; this is your second week with me right?” Her voice was icy once again.

 

“Second week in a row it is Mrs. Grey,” He said in false happiness. They both sounded a lot like two very bad actors. Mrs. Grey leaned over a bit, looking past the Augustine boy. Her smile widened when she realized that I was eavesdropping.

 

“Crawford, I’m sure that this conversation does not concern you. You don’t want to slip up and have to come back tomorrow to finish all of your work now do you? If you would be as so nice to close the door Mr. Haze...” The boy turned around slowly and closed the door. Looking at his gaunt face and black-bagged eyes, I realized that it was only his long black hair that looked familiar to me. That was odd.

 

I could her no more of their conversation through Mrs. Grey’s large, brass door. So I continued working on I disagreeignment. She was right about one thing; I sure didn’t want to have to come back here tomorrow.

 

The Augustine boy and Mrs. Grey talked for what seemed like a long time. I was completely done with my first assignment and starting on my next worksheet when I heard the sound of the door opening. The boy walked out of the room, looking, for some unfathomable reason, calm. He stalked over to his desk and sat down softly, opening up his folder and taking out the pencil to start his assignment.

 

Mrs. Grey then said to the boy, “Augustine Haze; I hope you did know that I will not let you get away with what you just said. You can count on being in here with me all of next week as well.”

 

A scowl appeared on his face. “But I said nothing at all!” he screamed, banging his hand hard on the desk.

 

“Exactly.” Mrs. Grey got up herself and slammed her door shut. She was obviously angry about something, but I’m pretty sure she wasn’t half as angry as the Augustine boy. He picked up his pencil, breaking it in half abruptly. I could swear I even heard him growl a few times...and he did a nice job of it as well. He sat there in complete silence for awhile, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, and looked up at the ceiling for a long time. By the way he kept clenching and unclenching his knuckles under the desk I could tell he was trying to restrain himself. It surprised me and took me completely off guard when the boy turned to me, staring at me with an expression on his face as though he were trying to figure out a mystery. All of a sudden he snapped his finger, smiled softly, and said, “Wasn’t you that girl sitting next to me on the bus? I’m surprised I couldn’t remember you; you’re the only one with enough guts to sit next to me without flinching or at least questioning me.”

 

It was hard for me to believe that this boy was really the same guy that I had sat next to on the bus. And to think that I had thought he was shy! In reply to his question, I nodded my head. His smile seemed to broaden a bit.

 

“I know you already know my name, but I think we should start over. Hi, I’m Augustine Haze, but I’d like it a lot better if you just called me Haze.”

 

We shook hands. Was that supposed to mean we were friends? Dismissing my thoughts, I decided it would be impolite not to introduce myself. The very moment I opened my mouth to speak though, he interrupted me and said, “You’re Lorrisa Crawford right? My brother knows you. He’s such a pitiful boy that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was stalking you.”

 

Augustine laughed silently to himself, flipping his black hair off of his eyes while doing so.

 

“Are you okay?” Augustine questioned, staring at me with a mixture of concern and confusion. But I didn’t hear his question.

 

All I could see was his eyes, and they were all that mattered right now. They were silver...

 

 

[spoiler=Vol.1 Chapter 4]

He looked at me a few minutes longer, and then, as though he were disappointed, he turned back to his worksheet and started working at a very slow pace. Oddly enough, I didn’t want him to stop talking to me; I didn’t want him to think I was scared just like everybody else. However, I could not bring myself to say anything to him. What’s wrong with me? Could it be that I was already losing my touch?

 

After awhile of staring at his head and finding that he would not say another word to me, I came to the conclusion that I would continue with my work and pretend as though I had never met him before. I looked at my worksheet and read one sentence over and over again, but I could not understand any thing past the first word. My mind seemed to be drifting off to nowhere land; thoughts about what was for lunch, or what Silver was possibly doing at this moment invaded my brain and took over. In less than five minutes I was back where I started...staring at Augustine’s head. The thought of Silver always brought me back to the unbelievable fact that this rowdy boy sitting beside me could be Silver’s brother. I kept telling myself that Augustine’s brother could be anybody, and that his silver eyes were some very convincing contact lenses, but I couldn’t ignore the little voice in my head that was mocking me and saying that anybody could tell that they were related. The only thing that looked alike was there silver eyes and its shape, but it was just so very obvious...

 

Before I knew it, fifteen minutes had already gone by and I was still on the same exact question. I sighed and closed my folder; there was no way I would ever be able to finish this today. I looked over at Augustine and was surprised to see that he was on his very last worksheet. He scribbled frantically, his whole body bent over the desk.

 

The same scrawny teacher that had been trying to restrain Augustine ran into the room, grabbing my attention almost instantly. I had abandoned my sudden urge to try and continue working the very moment I heard her heavy breathing. “Sharon,” the teacher called, running into Mrs. Grey’s office. She hadn’t even bothered to close the door behind her. “Sharon you have to go to the office. There’s someone important here for you.”

 

“Can’t it wait?” Mrs. Grey replied in a bored voice.

 

“NO!” the small teacher shouted, fear ringing in her voice. Mrs. Grey closed the manila folder she was working in, put it to the side, and then looked at the teacher with a stern expression. They went into a small whispered conversation that seemed to make Mrs. Grey surprised and very angry.

 

“WHAT!” Mrs. Grey screamed. She stood up abruptly. “And he’s here...right at this moment?” The teacher nodded her head slowly. But before Mrs. Grey left out of the room, she hissed at us in a dangerous tone, “Stay here until I come back. If you are not here than I will give you a month’s worth of Saturday detentions!” She looked at Augustine for a while, seeming to grow even more upset that he was paying more attention to his work than her threat, and then she left the room, the teacher who had served as her messenger at her side.

 

Mrs. Grey was barely out of the room before Augustine announced, “Do you want to leave?” I nodded my head. He asked the question with such smugness that I hadn’t even really thought about what he was asking until it was too late. With a smile on his face, he yawned and stood up, looking more like he had just awoken from a good dream.

 

“How will we leave?” I blurted out. Through a particularly long yawn, he managed to say, “Through the window of course. Do you really think I would take the front door?”

 

I raised my eyebrow, although he didn’t seem to notice. I found myself wanting to ask, ‘What window?’, but the words got stuck in my throat. He sauntered confidently into Mrs. Grey’s office, acting as though this was something he does everyday, acting as though he could care less about the trouble that would follow. And then it hit me; he did not care about getting in trouble. For a long time now I had been looking for change...for something new to happen, and here was the opportunity right in my face. Augustine was exactly what I needed!

 

“Are you coming?” Augustine asked, turning to me. Instead of nodding my head like a shy child, I said, “yes, I am.”

 

“Well come on then!” he exclaimed in a voice that was half playful and half serious. I got out of my seat so fast that I nearly knocked the chair over. He laughed at me, but I didn’t care. Although he was clearly trying to unlatch her window, I still couldn’t believe that he was really going to jump. Augustine had always seemed a bit...crazy, but I didn’t expect him to pull a stunt like this, or even attempt to. I had to remind myself that there were probably many things about Augustine that I didn’t know.

 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this because”—

 

“Yes,” I interrupted. “So where will we go?”

 

A smirk on his face, he replied, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Crawford.” I was sure it was the way he looked at me, the way he said it, that sent shivers up my spine.

 

After a few minutes of silence, Augustine had opened the window. “Hold on tight,” he said to me. I hadn’t expected for him to grab me by the waist and pull me so close to him. I felt a bit disgusted with myself; was I actually...blushing?

 

He was so busy positioning himself that he paid no mind to me. And then he leaped right through the window. I could feel the air hitting my face as we flew out together. When we landed outside of the school he looked very much amused. It took me awhile to realize that he was laughing at me.

 

“I jump just like an animal right?” he laughed. It was like he had read my mind. Shaking his head, he added, “Well, there’s a lot more where that came from. Grab on to me.” Hesitantly I walked back over to him. He was way too smug about that animal comment; plus, I didn’t know where we were headed. He was too much of a mystery for me.

 

“Where are we going,” I demanded to know. He surveyed me, a smile still on his face, and then he replied, “We’re going to visit my brother. He don’t got anything better to do.”

 

Before I could say anything, before I could approve the destination (although I wouldn’t have anyways), I was already back in his hand.

 

I was speechless while in his arms, but what could I say? It was impossible for any human to run at this speed and to jump so high. Augustine seemed so concentrated on his destination that he didn’t seem to notice me. Sometimes I wondered had he remembered that I was still clutched to his side. Then, after running through the marsh that I was so used to, Augustine came to an abrupt halt.

 

“You okay?” he asked. I simply nodded my head and followed behind him. Augustine was now walking at a slow pace. He looked all around him as he walked; it was evident that he was trying to avoid something dangerous, but I didn’t feel the least unsafe. This was Peculiar Amazement Avenue; in many odd ways I saw this place as my home. I couldn’t make myself believe that this place was dangerous in any way.

 

“It seems safe,” he whispered, but it sounded more like he was reassuring himself. Then he finally turned to me and said, “We’re here.” Augustine had succeeded in confusing me once again. We had just walked out of Peculiar Amazement Avenue to a completely empty place with loads and loads of large rocks scattered around. I had never even walked this far down Peculiar Amazement Avenue because I had never passed the park before. I thought we were just in the middle of nowhere, but he seemed almost sure that he had found his home.

 

We maneuvered around a few rocks until we reached the largest rock of them all. With one push of his shoulder, Augustine pushed the rock over. There was a large, dark hole hidden under there. Surely, Augustine and Silver did not live in a hole under the ground. I tried to imagine the both of them squished into a small, dirty space, darkness all around. It was so funny to me that I almost laughed out loud. But, much to my dismay, Augustine turned to me, smiled, and then jumped through the hole. I could hear him landing shortly after.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” Augustine said. “There’s a ladder. I just prefer to jump.” I stood rooted to my spot. Did he really expect me to jump through that hole? Silence followed right after. And then, almost impatiently this time, Augustine shouted, “When I asked you did you still want to go you said yes. You’ve went this far, so what’s the point of turning around now? If you think I’m going to hurt you I give you my word that I will not!”

 

I took in a deep breath. ‘I will do it.’ I told myself. ‘I will jump into that hole.’ And reluctantly, at the pace of a snail, I did. I wanted to climb the ladder but I felt it would be a lot easier to just jump. When I landed on the ground, my eyes closed, I realized that the hole really wasn’t that deep.

 

“You can’t see with your eyes closed,” Augustine said. I figured it wouldn’t matter whether my eyes were closed or not because it would be dark anyway, but when I opened my eyes I was bombarded by lights. There were lamps hanging all over the walls. Augustine was completely unperturbed by this. It was an eerie type of silence as he led the way down the tunnel, our footsteps the only sound. The closer we got to what I assumed was our destination, the darker it seemed to get. I moved my mouth to ask about this, but Augustine had answered my question before I could even speak.

 

“My brother doesn’t like the light too much, but don’t worry; it won’t get completely dark.” Absent-mindedly, I nodded my head.

 

“Can you read minds?” I asked. I almost slapped myself when asking it. It was one of the most stupid questions I had ever asked. However, he didn’t think it was that stupid.

 

“No, but I wish I could. It’s not a talent I was born with; it’s the only one thing I envy about my brother,” he replied.

 

Augustine had my brain, and imagination, thinking over time. There were so many questions I wanted to ask. But he was saying something and I didn’t want to interrupt him.

 

“Levi Haze,” he called. “I’m coming in. I don’t want to barge in on you if you’re eating.”

 

There was a long stretch of silence, and I wondered whether this Levi Haze was even there. All of a sudden, a voice I was familiar with replied, “I’m not eating. Who is it that you have with you, because I don’t enjoy watching you eat either. Trust me; you’re much worst about it.”

 

I had never heard such a weird conversation before. With a puzzled expression on my face, I reluctantly followed behind Augustine as he walked through a circular shaped entrance. It was really dark, and I couldn’t see a thing.

 

“Turn on the lights!” Augustine demanded. Someone groaned, I heard a click, and then it was really bright all of a sudden. The first thing I saw was a very large, and particularly dirty, brown table with five chairs surrounding it; two of the chairs were broke and tipped over. If this was supposed to be the kitchen, it sure was a weird one. There wasn’t a sink or dishes; there wasn’t a stove or a refrigerator. Where was the food? What did they eat?

 

Then, standing shirtless at another entrance far back from where I was standing, was Silver. “Levi, there you are!” Augustine called. He paid no mind to Silver’s widening eyes. “This is”—

 

“Do you know who she is Augustine! You can’t use her as your meal!” Silver cried, his voice frantic.

 

“Why not?” Augustine demanded to know. “I won’t kill her. I like her. I can’t be friends with her if she’s a human.”

 

I was horrified. But, although the majority of me wanted to make a run for it, I was secretly intrigued by this.

 

If Augustine was not a human, than what was he?

 

 

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[spoiler=Vol. 1 Chapter 5]

Chapter 5:

 

The argument between the two brothers continued. Sometimes, when I thought they weren’t aware of me any longer, I would lose my nerve and try to escape again. It was when I noticed that Silver was sneaking quick glances at me every time I made a movement that made me stay where I stood. Silver was contradicting himself; he kept saying that he wanted for me to stay away from Augustine, that it would be too much trouble, yet he kept looking at me as though he’d rather me stay. I was confused about this whole situation, Silver was confused about whether he truly wanted me gone or not, and Augustine was clearly confused about why he could not ‘Use me as his meal.’ At times, the argument would completely go off subject about stuff that had nothing to do with what they were arguing about originally. Silver was the one who would always direct it back to the real issue, but Augustine kept changing it to more personal things. It reminded me, in a very disturbing sense, of the arguments that my brother Samuel and I used to have before he was sent to the penitentiary. I shivered in anger at the thought of Samuel. He deserved to be in the crazy house.

 

Finally, the argument seemed to be coming to a steady end. My attention to their quarrel, no matter how unusual and intriguing, oddly enough began to falter. It was when Silver mentioned the Golden Belle that I started listening again.

 

“Augustine, can’t you tell? Can’t you sense it in her scent and in her blood who she is?” There was silence in which Augustine shook his head no.

 

“She is the Golden Belle!” Silver whispered, his eyes darting to me very quickly and then falling to the floor as though he had done something shameful. Augustine turned to me, surveying me with his right eyebrow arched and his Silver eyes seeming to glow; than he did something that seemed to outrage Silver. He laughed. Turning his attention back to Silver, he scoffed, “Prove it! Prove how she is the Golden Belle!”

 

“It’s obvious! What creature of the night doesn’t know the description and history of the Golden Belle? Look at the necklace she wears upon her neck. That same necklace comes from the very first Golden Belle, the original girl. It is tradition to have it passed down to the next Golden Belle in line. If you try to give it to someone who is not the Golden Belle, than it will not clasp around the neck. It is also completely unbreakable. Squish it with a hammer and watch it puff back out again; rip it apart and watch the pieces rebuild itself.”

 

Augustine’s attention went back to my necklace abruptly. My grandmother had given it to me long before she had died. I remembered her saying that it would not go around the neck of my mother, that it was truly mines now. I could care less if this necklace was some famous artifact in history; it was my grandmother’s, and that made it special to me. This necklace was the only true way for me to remember my grandmother, and there was no way I was going to let Augustine try and rip it apart just to see if it would reconnect. I didn’t want to take that chance; but as he stalked toward me, his eyes scrutinizing the necklace, I couldn’t seem to say or do anything more than hide my necklace with my hands as best as I could. Silver intrigued me, but Augustine made me really nervous. It was just something about him...

 

All of a sudden he was very close to me, his steady breathing seeming to be the only sound. He spoke no words; instead, he used his eyes to demand what he wanted. And it was very effective. He stared into my eyes, his silver eyes so overwhelming and intimidating, and then he stared at the necklace. He looked back at me shortly afterward, and we stared at each other for a very long time. My eyes still on his, I found myself uncovering the necklace. It was like he was in control of me. I disliked that. He jumped at the opportunity I had given him. I could feel his hands brushing against my neck as he gently raised the necklace up as close to his face as he could get it. Silver could easily be mistaken for a prop in the background at this moment.

 

I was angry. I kept telling myself that I had lost just that easily. But the very moment I moved my mouth to demand he leave the necklace alone, he dropped it back to my neck and stumbled back wards, falling into one of the chairs by the table. He looked dizzy, in denial, and much unlike himself.

 

“It can’t be,” he whispered. “But it is. She is the Golden Belle, and I disrespected her beyond reason.”

 

There was Silence. However, I was still confused. I still had no idea what a Golden Belle’s job was and how it was connected to my grandmother and me. But if it made Augustine act in this way, I was sure it was something overwhelming.

 

Before I knew it, Augustine was standing up again, an angry expression on his face. At first I thought he was going to start arguing with Silver again; I hadn’t expected him to fix his eyes so harshly on me. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were the Golden Belle huh?” he screamed. I almost flinched at his new personality change.

 

“She didn’t know,” Silver whispered. “How would she? The last Golden Belle, her grandmother, died before she could tell her. Her human mother won’t even talk about it.” And then, like an after thought, Silver said to me in a more hushed voice, “I’ve been keeping a watch on you...”

 

I don’t know what made me do it but I turned to Augustine, looked him right into the eyes, and replied, “I’m pretty sure that you’re not telling me everything about yourself either. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

 

“You want to know everything about me, do you?” he growled. “Okay then. I don’t know who my mother or father was; I have to steal, or have others steal for me, to survive; and, here’s the big ones, I’m a brother to a vampire/confused corpse eater, and I’m a werewolf.”

 

Now it was my time to arch my eyebrow and laugh. Although I thought it sounded ridiculous, my instinct kept telling me that all of what Augustine said was true. “Prove it!” I demanded. Augustine did what I expected he would do; he crossed his arms stubbornly and muttered something under his breath about not having to prove himself to anybody. However, I had completely forgotten about Silver.

 

“It’s true,” Silver said. “He is a werewolf and I am a vampire just as much as you are a female. Look...” He did something I had only seen in movies. He moved his mouth in the form of a smile and, to the left side and the right side of his mouth, was one tooth both sharper and larger than the others. The fangs were dripping with what looked like fresh blood. I expected dread to overcome me, for a loud, ear-splitting scream to erupt from my mouth, but nothing of the sort happened. I wasn’t the least afraid...I was completely okay with this.

 

“I once saw Levi go to your house. I’ll take you home. Your human parents are probably worrying about you,” Augustine jeered. He walked past me and beckoned for me to follow him through the tunnel again. When I looked back to where Silver was at first, he was no longer there. I assumed that he had disappeared into that room in the back.

 

Augustine was no longer in any mood to socialize or laugh. As soon as we were above the ground he grabbed me to him without asking me whether he could. He spoke no words to me at all as he led me back home. He took many shortcuts that I had never taken before and I was in the backyard of my house hardly before I blinked a second time. Augustine put me back on my feet. I started to head to the front of the house, but, before I could get far, Augustine shouted, “Wait...please. I have an anger management problem. It makes me say and do stupid things because I can’t think when I’m angry. I’m sorry.”

 

He stood there, his hair being whipped all around his face by the harsh winds. Then I realized that he was waiting for something; he was waiting for my answer. “Apology accepted,” I replied. When he turned around and ran back to the direction of Peculiar Amazement Avenue, I swear I saw him smile.

 

Something was terribly wrong. I knew Mother and Father were both home; the daycare Mom worked at closed at 12:30, and since I had spent a good half-hour listening to Silver and Augustine quarrel it was already one-o-clock. Mom would usually be cooking lunch by now so that by the time I came home from school I wouldn’t have to wait to eat. However, I could smell no food at all. And Dad, a novelist by night, would usually be watching television by now. Even if he wasn’t watching television the TV would still be on. It felt odd to walk in and not see his body on the couch, or hear his loud laughing at some silly sitcom. What was also peculiar to me was that they weren’t waiting for me with their arms crossed and angry expressions upon their face. I knew Mrs. Grey had called my parents by now. I wondered what she would do for Augustine though. Maybe she already knew that he had no parents, and I was sure that he had no phone.

 

All of a sudden I heard my stomach growl...loudly. Hunger can make you do real stupid things. I should have just went up stairs and locked myself into my bedroom like I usually do, but I just had to go and make myself a sandwich. Surely, my parents would be in the kitchen. Next to the living room, it seemed to be their favorite hangout spot. But when I got in there they didn’t have livid expressions upon their faces, and they didn’t try to interrogate why I was home before school ended. Matter-of-factly, they had a hurtful expression on both of their faces the very moment they saw me. I had the sudden urge to ask what was wrong, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

 

“Lorrissa, dear, we have something to tell you,” Mother said, her voice very hushed. However, she did not say anything again. Was whatever she had to tell me that horrible? Dad had to take up where she left off. The last time he did that was when my grandmother died in her hospital bed.

 

“Lorrissa,” he started, his voice unconvincingly gruff. “Go check Samuel’s room...” He couldn’t mean...he couldn’t be saying...no. I didn’t think twice when running up the steps; I didn’t think twice when pushing open the door of the room that had been empty for two years. And when I saw a figure in the darkness sitting in a chair, I knew that it was true. Samuel was back.

 

Anger enveloped me before I could think. Once again, I found myself wondering why I didn’t just lock myself in my room.

 

“Lorrissa, is that you?” Samuel hissed. He sounded different than what I remembered. It was my anger that caused me to flick the lights on when I should have just left. Not only did he sound different-he looked different as well. When he was sent off to the penitentiary two years ago his black hair was wild and all over his face, his blue eyes always frantically moving around, his body really gaunt. But now his hair was slicked back, his blue eyes icy and cold looking. When he made eye contact with me and motioned for me to sit at the chair across from him, it almost felt like he had attacked me with his eyes. I was cold all of a sudden.

 

I was hesitant about it, but I did sit on the chair across from him. He was still lean but it looked intimidating now. Had the penitentiary changed him this much?

 

“You don’t’ seem all too happy to see me,” Samuel said, a smirk on his face. I was starting to dislike him more than I did when he left.

 

“I’m not happy to see you, so you are right about that,” I replied. His smirk widened and I couldn’t understand why his teeth were so pearly white. He just came from the crazy house, not Beverly Hills!

 

Samuel moved his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed his mouth abruptly. The next thing I knew he was leaning across the desk separating us, his eyes narrowed. And he started to...sniff. I could feel my eyebrow rising; Was Samuel really smelling me? I wanted to laugh but I was too angry and confused to do so.

 

“You smell like...you smell strongly like a werewolf and lightly like a vampire,” he said. His eyes turning icier, his smirk disappearing and turning into a scowl, Samuel got up and walked over to me, continuing to smell me like a dog smells somebody on drugs. “Where have you been?!” he growled. “Who have you been hanging around?”

 

My anger rose even more. I couldn’t believe that he was trying to figure out who I hung out with. But what was even more unbelievable to me was that he was able to smell the scent of a werewolf and a vampire so well. I didn’t know they had a scent separate from humans and I was in the same exact room with them.

 

Slamming my hands onto the desk, I shouted, “WHO ARE YOU TO DEMAND WHERE I’VE BEEN AND WHO I’VE BEEN HANGING WITH?! WHY ARE YOU BACK? YOU DON’T BELONG HERE, YOU KNOW THAT! YOU BELONG IN THE CRAZY HOUSE SAMUEL; THAT’S YOUR HOME!”

 

He instantly stopped smelling me then. Although he wouldn’t show any emotions pass a smirk and icy eyes, I knew I had hit hard. If I could pat myself on the back for my accomplishment I would.

 

Samuel took in a deep breath as though he were savoring the air in this room. He looked odd doing it. Then he spoke. “What a great home coming present,” he started. “I’m concerned about you and this is how you treat me? Shame on you. You want to know why I’m back. I’m back because this is where I belong right now. I’ve made many friends in the crazy house...faithful friends.” I didn’t like the way he had said that. I didn’t like how his eyes sparkled with happiness when mentioning his ‘faithful friends’. What did he mean this is where he belonged right now? I knew Samuel good enough to know that most of what he said meant more than what he was letting on. I was at a loss for words so I let him continue.

 

He leaned in close to me, that stupid smirk on his face again. Then, in a voice that made him sound like he was telling a top secret rumor, he whispered, “Do you want to know why Annabelle, our dear old grandmother, disliked me so much? And don’t lie; you’ve always wanted to know.” I wanted to protest, but I found that I couldn’t. Samuel was right; I had always wanted to know. I couldn’t stop myself from nodding my head yes.

 

Then he did something that really quickened my heart beat. He laughed. He rolled his head back and he just laughed. It was the way he did it that frightened me the most. It was so cruel, so mean, so devilish. And I thought Augustine made me nervous. At least I didn’t have to live with Augustine. But I’d rather live in a hole with him then sleep in a room next to a lunatic.

 

When he was back looking at me again, he looked excited, like something had thrilled him. Then he said, “You see, Grandmother protected supernatural creatures; I killed them...”

 

I didn’t really understand what he was talking about. But if I wasn’t sure of anything else, I was confident that I hated him. I was confident that I hated his guts.

 

 

 

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PrimalFear

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Thanks much appreciated!! Thanks to Kale for the links lol, also can't wait to see what everyone thinks of the story. Also I think I'm going to start doing a 2 chapters released every week. Mondays and Fridays, since I couldn't release Chapter 5 untill Today, I will probaly wait untill Monday to release Chapter 6 unless everyone wants it released on Friday.

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