“What?”
“Security came, you put up so much of a fight that they had to sedate you. I couldn’t stop them. I’ve been fighting to see you ever since. Had to go to the courts to get access.”
“Is Caleb alright?” I asked.
“Yeah, he’s fine. Are you alright?”
“No, I wanna to go home.”
“There is nothing I want more than to have you and Caleb home again. I’ve been thinking, a change of scenery would do us all the world of good. I’m going to sell up, sweetie, and move us back to where your mum grew up. She would have wanted you to be there. You’ll be safe there.”
“Okay,” I croaked. It was all too much as I lay snuggled in my dad’s arms. Finally sleeping safely, soundly, and securely.
CHAPTER 3
A fresh start, they said. I needed it too, after what they’d put me through, and yet there I sat, finally alone and amid one of the darkest nights on Earth. Shuddering silently; the bitter breeze of winter's reign flowed through the open window. Street lights glazed the sky. I sat wrapped in my mother’s old blanket, heart aching as the familiar scent of her perfume stirred around me.
Tiredness was a feeling I’d grown up with, emptiness was one I’d learned. I used to feel so attached to life, all bright and bubbly. The typical 17-year-old eyeing up the guys on the basketball team. I was a fan of the old romance novels, always dreaming of that one true love. But life wasn’t like that. I was taken so young, murdered by many. What was it that took me? It was a question that lay unanswered as my sodden cheeks stung from the arctic breeze of the North winds.
Outside the leaves swirled, creating a flurry of a pattern, like a kaleidoscope shimmering in the grass below. It was a pretty picture, but one that brought warning to those that knew, and I knew... or did I? What really happened the day I died?
My life had taken a different path, one that caused me to mature to an age most teenagers wouldn’t dream of. My venomous past always crept up on me, a tragic flow of events that took my innocence away as I passed over to the realm of the dead. But now I lived, alive and pained by the memories of that tragic day in London.
The day we moved to the little town of Elvington, it rained. Poured down, actually. Our new country home didn’t look anything like the brochure. Instead, we were greeted with the keys to a dilapidated stone build. It was a step down from the penthouse back in London, but it was ours. Apparently, my mother had grown up in the area. It was nice to be close to some part of her, yet far enough away to move on and move forward.
My younger brother, Caleb, had picked up a lot since the move, but every so often his breathing became erratic as he cuddled his tear-stained pillow. That morning, though, the familiarity of my father’s snoring echoed through the hallway, bringing light to the darkest of days.
Rising with the sunlight I smiled. Put on that brave face Taylor, Mum used to say, no matter how sad you are, a smile changes everything, and she was right. Even the mirror agreed as I shone it a toothy grin. My tired smile greeted me as I brushed through my chestnut hair. It took a while to ease out the knotted bird's nest. But with a little moisturiser and strawberry lip gloss, I began to feel human again.
Breakfast filled a hole; a splash of orange juice with charcoaled pancakes. My dad tried, but he couldn’t replace her. We had lived there for a month, using the break to straighten the house. It was all quite respectable. We had fixed it up quite well, for saying we didn’t have any builders in the family. It was good though, the time together, the bonding.
Footsteps pounded across the landing as Caleb ran, tugging on his trousers. He flew down the stairs, inhaled his breakfast, ready for our first day at a new school. We had already missed a term that year and now that winter was settling in, the next semester was due to start. It was as good a time as any to get back into it. A bit of routine and normality never hurt anyone. Anxiety crept through me, though, that feeling when you’re sick to your stomach, nerves kicking in. I used to be so popular, one of the ‘it’ girls. But now I struggled to find my own voice half the time. "It will do us good," Dad kept saying. Mum would have agreed. We needed this, needed to move on, let go.
After breakfast, we piled into my dad's new Range Rover. It wasn’t like the chauffeur driven Mercedes, poor Alfred had to be let go after we moved to Elvington. Dad said money was a lot tighter there, especially after paying the house off. He even had to sell mum’s classic, the red 67’ Mustang. I’ll always remember the grunt the engine made as it growled across the country lanes outside of London city centre. That was our time together, we didn’t particularly have the kind of mother-daughter relationship that involved manicures and shoe shopping, that’s something I did with the girls instead. Mum and me, well, we enjoyed our time relaxed as we set off in the Mustang with a picnic and a good book.
We arrived to see the locals heading into the academy, Stonebridge Academy, with its twisted spires and modern extension. The students there seemed less ‘preppy’ than London. Dreary coats and last season’s shoes. What is she even wearing? Are they Doc’s? Didn’t they go out in the 90's? Mum used to have some, but kids wore them there. My 90's style mother would have fit in better than I did. Jeans tomorrow, I might get away with Converse, if I’m lucky.
Saying our goodbyes, Caleb and I got out. Dad appeared a little teary-eyed as he stood by the driver's side, watching as we left. The main entrance loured magnificently in front of us, framed by stone pillars and cobbled steps leading the way. I kept my head down, avoided any eye contact. Could they stare anymore? My backpack dug into my shoulders as I hurried up the steps, passing a group of guys on the way. Why do they keep staring? My cheeks reddened as I checked my camisole. No, I hadn’t popped a button. I was the new girl, and everyone knew it.
THE DOOR FLUNG OPEN as the bell rang. Hordes of students ran through the hallway fighting for locker space. It was a battle in there, a brutish array of arms, legs, and hefty backpacks, pushing and shoving as they ran past. The jocks ruled the roost, with a football under one arm. Surely those weren’t the academy's finest specimens? A bunch of testosterone-driven quarterbacks, all pumped up and ready for their next game. Or those girls, hanging off their every word, all giggly and goo-eyed. Then just added insult to injury. Here come the cheerleaders. Eyes down, don’t look up! Who would have thought I used to be one of them? A bunch of energetic girls in burgundy and yellow miniskirts. The crowds parted as the lead cheerleader took over the hallway. Great, she saw me. Cheeks flushed, hands clammy, I braced myself for impact. What does she want?
"New Girl," she said, approaching me with a catlike finesse.
"Err, yes?" I replied, standing my ground, back tall, poised for action.
"We are having try-outs next week. Your profile says you cheer, so we expect you to be there." She waltzed off, flicking her hair as she turned.
Was I even ready to ‘cheer’ again? The fake smiles and energetic betrayal. Was it really a clique I wanted to be a part of?
The teeming noise of the academy's student body was enough to drive anyone insane. Why were they still staring, with wide eyes and smirked expressions? My bottom lip quivered as I chewed down. Pulling tightly on my backpack, I needed to get out of there, disappear, gain control. I wasn’t used to all the attention anymore.
My palpitations eased as I made my way to the main office.
“Yes?” the old receptionist shrilled.
“Hello, I’m new. I was told to come to reception.”
“New?” She pushed her glasses further up her nose.
“I’m Taylor, I just moved here.”
“Ah, yes indeed! Sorry, it has been quite the morning,” she exclaimed with a warming smile. “You’ll need this.” She handed me a welcome pack with a dusty front cover. “Everything you need will be in here.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, opening the pack.
My first class was in the lab. I groaned. Triple sciences again! It wasn’t something I wanted to repeat. Then again, at my last school, Mr. Re
ed was a dull, monotone guy that had more passion for sleeping than teaching. Surely it wouldn't be any worse than that?
Back in the hallway, the bell rang. Masses of students filtered into classrooms, brushing past me as I hurried to find my way.
“Pack it in!” a teacher yelled as the jocks threw the ball from player to player.
The rest of the students ran into one room or another, with a few trailing behind, sneaking in at the last minute. And there I stood, the new girl, completely alone and five minutes late.
“In here!” A cheery red-headed girl peered out of a doorway, waving me over.
As I arrived, a class of twenty-odd students sat before me.
“Miss Morai, this is the new girl. She took a wrong turn."
Miss Morai turned and smiled sweetly.
"Ah, yes. Welcome,” she said looking at her register, “Taylor, I presume?” I nodded in response. “Well, Taylor, as I’ve told Rowena before...” She smirked at the rosy-haired girl, “please call me Clara. We are all friends here.”
Rowena pulled me over to a seat beside her.
“As she said, I’m Rowena,” she laughed.
“To recap, we are looking at the idea behind the cell, human biology at its most basic form. Now, who knows the name of the different parts of a cell?”
Rowena’s hand shot up.
“Ribosomes, nucleus, erm...”
“Excellent, Rowena. Anyone else?”
A darkened character from the back section of the class spoke.
“Would it not depend on the type of creature analysed?” His face drew back into shadow as only his piercing blue eyes caught my own. Familiarity touched me as he hid away, disappearing from light.
“Erm,” she stuttered. “Yes, it does. But for this session, lets concentrate on the human cell, shall we?”
“Indeed,” he spoke, with a flash of teeth.
Staring out of the window, I phased out of the rest of the class. My vision blurred as I lost myself watching the autumn trees twist and twirl to draw in the equinox. I felt drained, the move had been tough, and I still struggled to concentrate on anything. The medication I was on didn’t help, it made me so tired. It was like my mind needed something more, something bigger, something brighter. Then again, perhaps it was best I left that brightness elsewhere. I didn't want to take out the whole of the academy with whatever laser beam I’d conjured up. I had the back scars to prove ‘they’ existed. So, if they did exist, then perhaps so did I. Perhaps I really did survive that day, and this was somehow not a part of my own manipulated Hell. Not that I felt hot or fiery at that moment, but really... if this was Heaven, would I be sitting in a creepy dim lit classroom talking about human biology? Then yes, I must have survived, as I couldn’t make that crap up. So, if I survived, with scars and all, then ‘they’ were real and the light that took out the subway had also existed. It’d come from me, spread out like the wings of an angel, collapsing the world around me. How much of a threat was I to everyone around me? I could blink, and they’d eviscerate. Not something I wanted to include on my curriculum vitae. Taylor Lane: normal, boring, deadly.
The bell shrilled that it was time for lunch. Two hours had gone by. How did I miss that? Time passed so quickly when I’d drifted into my own realm of thoughts. I’d like to say they were happy thoughts about pretty pink unicorns, but I doubt even those things existed. Then again, who would have thought the world had such a darkness surrounding it? Who would have believed the universe to be aligned to the side of evil? I’d like to say fluffy bunnies and magical unicorns exist, but then who am I kidding? After all, where’s the balance as I side step through one nightmare to the next, where’s the happiness gone?
"Taylor, has anyone shown you around the school yet?" Clara Morai smiled quaintly.
"No, not yet. I have a map though," I said, fumbling in my backpack.
Rowena walked over.
"I'll show her, Miss Morai."
"Thank you." I smiled.
"Come on, Taylor, it’s lunchtime." Rowena said as she tugged at my arm.
Rowena marched out, like a guide on a London bus tour. We headed past a mural of artwork, something my mum would have loved. She hadn't been just an artist, she was an inspiration. Hurrying along, I couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the academy's stonework. It reminded me of an old Victorian mansion, just like in the romance novels I read. I felt drawn to a strange cabinet stashed away in the shadows. What on Earth’s in there? The school was getting more peculiar by the second. The tag read “Mochlan's Hammer and Victoria Bane's Scythe.” Why would a school have its own weapons stash? Granted they were dusty, probably a good sign, but still.
The rest of the cabinet was filled with old photos and dusty trophies. Alongside these was a diary dating back to World War One. It described the academy as a place of death and destruction, haunted by the ghosts of those lost there. According to the description, half of the academy was destroyed, only to be rebuilt later.
I was a history buff, loved researching into mysteries and "times gone by." It didn’t exactly make me the most popular kid on the block, but it did make me a mystery of my very own.
“Come on, slow coach!” Rowena yelled as I dawdled behind. “First, we’ve got to go where the cool kids hang out... and by cool kids, I obviously mean me!” She laughed, linking arms and eagerly pulling me along.
She was quite an excitable character, and as she wrapped herself around the maze of corridors, I felt quite lost in my new environment. The ‘lounge’ was where the locals hung out; a chilled-out room with sofas, beanbags, and foosball tables. Rowena ran over to a group of jocks and ushered me to follow. Did I really want to engage with this crew?
“Taylor, come on!” she yelled.
I walked over as a familiar face paused when he saw me.
“It’s you! He said you’d survived.”
“Huh?” Did I know him? He felt familiar, but I had no clue where we’d met before.
“Ah, you don’t remember. That’s okay.” He smiled and bounded off, as I ran to catch up to Rowena.
"Where’s the cafeteria, Rowena?" I asked, stomach growling.
Rowena laughed.
"Haven't you been listening to me?" She pushed open the huge wooden doors.
A herd of excited teenagers ran around the hall, grabbing at trays and throwing food over the tables. Jeez, it’s like a zoo in here! I even started to sound like my mother.
I glanced around, taking in the sights as Rowena dragged me over to the dinner queue. It looked like meatloaf, or something I couldn't quite pronounce.
“That won't do your figure any good!” the head cheerleader pronounced, passing me a salad.
“Actually, I’d rather have a burger,” I directed my words to the dinner lady, as she passed me an undercooked burger.
“Ah, so that's how it is. Must be nice not to have to worry about your figure.” She grinned, walking away.
“Gross!” Rowena yacked. “You’re not actually going to eat that, are you?”
“Oh, well, no. I guess not.” What is it with people and their food?
She continued telling me about one of the jocks, Ricky, I think; the one with the blond hair and blue eyes. She was besotted with him and fully prepped me on his daily schedule. Rowena was a typical girly girl, interested in boys, make-up and pretty clothes. It was sweet and reminded me of my former self, but it seemed trivial now.
Gazing around the room, I felt drawn to another group. At first, I only heard murmurs, the odd word here and there, as they whispered attentively to each other. Then I began to concentrate on them, almost zooming in, picking out whole sentences.
“She was my first kill man, ‘ave some respect!” he growled.
"She's here," one of them shushed. “Keep your voice down mate,” he said, punching the guy in the shoulder.
"Shush, she's listening," another lad spoke as he rose from his chair, grinning, snaking his way across the hall toward me.
He moved with an
elegant, yet deadly, composition. His muscular body seduced every girl in sight as he curled and whipped around them in a mysterious manner. His soft brown hair shone with the light that cascaded through the open window, bouncing off his olive skin, absorbed into his supple lips.
Behind me, I sensed darkness encroaching, and as I turned I saw them; the cheerleader, the familiar guy from the break room, and the shadowed boy with piercing blue eyes, all standing tall by their table. The boy that flowed towards me growled deeply. But despite the obvious hatred between them, he ignored it and carried on towards me.
I stood motionless in the dinner queue watching the events unfold. The shadowed guy took a step forward, forcing the boy to halt his position. The boy held up his hands, as if to swing a white flag, and they all sat down beneath the window, watching, waiting.
Just as the approaching boy reached me, Rowena dropped her tray. The blue-eyed mystery sat silently, staring, ready to pounce as the grinning boy held out his hand to take mine.
When our hands touched, a shiver ran through me and a moment of recognition flashed before my eyes, something eternal and before my time, a feeling shared between me and him. There was something about this boy, he felt close to me, different to me, unique somehow and at ease with me knowing it.
Studying my expression, he grinned.
"And who are you?" he asked.
"I could ask the same question."
He laughed
"Hmm, I’ll go first. I’m Harland, part of the Arellano family. Your turn."
After collecting her tray and cleaning up the mess, Rowena turned and stopped talking, staring right at Harland. Looking at her, he snarled.
"Rowena. Let me guess, you were first in line to show our new girl around?"
Rowena stood frozen as her lip quivered in response.
"Taylor," I said, standing tall.
"What?" he said, as he fixated on me.
"You asked my name, it’s Taylor, Taylor Lane."
The Celestial Rose BoxSet Page 3
