When I was ten and in primary school a girl commented on my eyes. Sometimes they change color from a striking bright blue to a green the color of fields in the spring time, vibrant and shocking.
The children would call me "Freak" or "Cat eyes". When I didn't answer, or ignored them, they would taunt me, asking, "Has the cat got your tongue?"
For as long as I can remember I have found it hard to make friends or to build friendships with people. I have this strange fear deep within me. Then Misty came along she wouldn't take my one word answers. Many of the other more popular students tried befriending her but she politely declined, choosing to sit with me at lunch coaxing me out of my shell.
I began to look forward to seeing her at school. Slowly I let myself go, allowing a friend in.
My heart becomes heavy thinking of Misty; she was never my friend. I have been just a job, an order from my Grandmother.
Pushing thoughts of Misty away, I remember when I asked Clara if anything was wrong with me.
She told me that they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. She told me that the other children were only jealous and that they wished to have eyes as striking as mine. "People are all the same. You can only get judged by what you do, what paths you choose in life."
Remembering her encouragement, a smile creeps onto my face.
Not concentrating on what I'm doing, I pick up a white test tube not bothering to read the label. At the last second Justin shouts, "STOP!"
Too late, the liquid fills the container. Instantly smoke rises as popping and crackling noise echoes around the now silent room. The container explodes, sending glass and a green gooey substance that looks like snot flying in all directions. Without thinking on impulse, I throw my hands in front of my face to shield me from the flying shards of glass. The room explodes into screams.
A putrid smell, mixed with the smell of smoke, makes me gag. It is horrendous.
"She did that on purpose!" A tall skinny girl with long blond hair cries. Stomping towards me, I notice she has tiny cuts along her forearms, the contents of the container dripping from her bleached hair and smeared across her cheeks. Her two minions step closer, also covered in goo.
"Do you have any idea how much this cost, you will pay for this!" she screams, her face red.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean to," I whisper. It was truly an accident but I doubt she will ever believe that. I have seen girls like her before, girls who believe they are the queen bee. I had one at my last school and she could be really nasty at times to get what she wanted. I am guessing this girl is no different.
Misty bursts out laughing. Other students join her, all crowding around to take a better look at the girls covered in goo.
Mr. Johnson holds a stony face as he yells for the class to hush. "Girls, go get yourselvescleaned up," The girls scuttle from the room. The lead girl gives me a haunting glare as she leaves.
"Kayla, I am hoping that it was indeed an accident. We do not tolerate any kind of mischievous behavior or pranks in this school," Mr. Johnson keeps his gaze locked on me for a few moments, which makes me squirm. I feel guilty even though I know it was an accident. I should have paid more attention.
The class takes their seats and carries on with the experiment. I let Justin take the lead, not trusting myself with the simple task.
Finally the bell rings signaling the end of class, quickly, I pick up my few items and race for the door utterly embarrassed.
"Wait." Misty pulls on my arm, turning me until I face her. "Can I walk you to your next class; I have a free period, so it won't be a problem." Not waiting for me to answer she takes my schedule out of my hands and grimaces.
This cannot be good.
I use my poker face, hiding all my emotions, not ready to forgive Misty yet.
"Defense and then martial arts with Mr. Michael. Good luck, my brother can be a bit intense. He takes training way too seriously."
Her brother, great, I inwardly groan. Just what I need.
"Chris and James both work here, James works here part time when he is not on assignment, and Chris will be graduating at the end of the year. He is a smart ass so the classes he has passed he doesn't have to attend, giving him time to help out in other classes." She talks as we walk through the hallways not caring that I have not said anything in return. One thing about Misty is she never gives up. She will not stop until I talk to her again.
We come to two large red doors Misty pushes them open. I take a sharp intake of air. Instantly the air around me changes. I can almost hear the buzz and crackle of the static in the air. My skin prickles and tingles all over, starting at the palm of my hand.
What is with this scar?
Chris stands rigid, his palms clenched into fist. The look on his face is not appealing. In fact, it scares me.
When I meet his gaze, I feel drawn into his eyes. The icy blueness generates a feeling like I am being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. I can tell by his body language that he does not like me.
His jaw is clenched.
My eyes must really freak everyone out. I suddenly become self-conscious and look at the ground hoping that my eyes are now concealed from his view.
"Maybe I will see you at lunch, if you want. I will meet you outside the canteen, and Chris, go easy on her." Noticing the look on her brother's face, Misty almost runs out of the gym. I do not blame her; I want to do the same.
"You need to stretch," he says, his words strained.
I like to run, and stretching is a part of my routine. The gym is like a typical high school gym, climbing ropes, balancing beams, yoga mats, stretching bars. I walk towards the stretching bars. They will allow me to stretch my muscles more.
Stretching my muscles, I easily fall into my own routine. The room is so quiet I forget I am not alone.
"Bang!" I jump and lose my balance, landing firmly on my rear. My cheeks burn instantly. The source of the bang is a punching bag. The bag is easily bigger than me.
"I need to see what you can do. You can start by punching the bag."
I inch closer slowly. He wants me to just punch a bag, not that bad I suppose.
"You can start when you're ready but today would be nice," he snaps. I glare at him, he seriously as an attitude problem.
"Don't I need gloves or something?" I snap back.
"If someone attacked you in the street, do you think they would wait while you put gloves on so you don't break a nail?"
Fine, I will punch the stupid thing, Mr. I will be obeyed. Pulling my arm back, I take a swing, which on impact causes my whole hand to hurt. Needless to say the bag does not move an inch. Feeling embarrassed, and his eyes on me I try again with my left hand. I'm met with the same result.
"Pretty pathetic if you ask me," he barks.
"No one asked you," I shoot back. I fold my arms over my chest like a child having a tantrum. He infuriates me.
God, please, give me patience. If you give me strength I am going to punch him in the face.
"Try climbing the ropes." I march over to the ropes.
I got this one.
I have never actually climbed a rope before. But it looks easy enough. I was wrong. I make it about three feet off the ground. My arms struggle to pull me any higher.
I have seen people use chalk on their hands to get a better grip but I doubt he will let me have any. This went on for the whole two hours, me trying the different activities and failing miserably. Meanwhile, Chris remarks on my inability. No wonder his sister ran, I would do the same thing and I want nothing more than to put distance between us.
Chapter 12- Kayla
"Hey, how did it go?" Misty asks as I approach the canteen, acting, as if nothing has ever happened between us. Even though I still feel reluctant to trust Misty, I cannot deny how good it feels to see a familiar face. If this morning's class is anything to go by I need all the friends I can get. I pull a face.
"That bad?" She laughs as we queue for lunch. She has no idea. Her brother seriou
sly does not like me.
I choose a burger and fries while Misty opts for a salad. After my recent activities I'm rather hungry. We sit at an empty table chatting about my time in the gym. Misty makes me feel better.
"My first time with the jump rope I made it to the top, but I refused to get back down; heights are not my strong point."
"Chris left her up there for about half an hour before he decided to climb up for her." A young man laughs as he joins us. On closer inspection the man is James.
"This is my brother, James. James this is Kayla," Misty introduces us with a wave of her hand.
"We have already met." James smiles fixing his baby blue eyes on me. "How have you found the school so far?" he asks while digging into his meal.
"It's been OK, I guess," I say, shrugging as I take a sip of water.
"She had an accident with Sarah and her groupies this morning." Misty begins to tell James all about the accident with the gooey stuff. Misty makes it sound a lot funnier than it was at the time. By the time she is done all three of us are laughing uncontrollably.
The air starts to change slowly. The static energy returns. I push the feeling away.
"They looked like giant bogies." Misty grins and we all crack up laughing again. A tray hits the table across from us with a bang.
Chris gives us all an annoyed look. His eyes linger on me. I sigh.
What is his problem?
I return to my lunch. James is a lot different to what I had first thought. But then again the day I met him there was just too much going through my mind.
"What's so funny?" Chris asks in a bored tone. Misty grabs a chip of James's plate which results in James prodding her in the side. I cannot help smiling as I watch them fooling around together. It must be nice having siblings. Someone to act around with or tell your secrets to, not that I have any. Before the incident at the mall my life was pretty boring. Now I cannot tell if I have gone completely insane or if I am just dreaming.
The thought of demons and magic really existing is way too much. I still refuse to believe.
"Nothing, you had to be there," Misty says as we watch the lead girl who I accidentally covered in green substance, who I now know is called Sarah and her two minions approach, hatred clear in her eyes. She stops before Chris and she looks at me with a look that could kill. She then puts a fake charming smile on and directs her attention on Chris.
"So, Chris is there something you need to ask me about the dance next Friday." She twirls the ends of her hair and flutters her eyelashes at him. James makes the sign of the cross and Misty pretends to wither. They both suddenly stop and pick up their drinks at the same time, as Chris gives them both a look of disdain.
"You can pick me up at seven," Sarah purrs, stroking his arm and not waiting for a reply. She spins on her heels and skips through the canteen, her hips swaying seductively.
She must be his girlfriend. At least I know why Misty did not tell him what happened with the goo earlier, but had no problem sharing the story with James.
My heart drops. I push the strange feelings away. "If you were planning on taking someone else, you're out of luck bro." James smiles with a twinkle in his eyes. Annoyance flashes over his face.
"What did the mega bitch want?" a younger boy asks as he takes a seat next to Chris. He looks like a younger version of James.
"Chris," James replies.
"I feel sorry for you, man. Did you hear what some new girl did to her in potions? People are calling her snot face." Misty spits her drink out, snorting and choking between giggles.
"That girl is sitting with us Rory. Kayla, meet Rory, our youngest brother," she introduces us through her giggles. The embarrassment I felt earlier in class, soon returns.
"Nice one," Rory beams. I get the impression that the only person who likes Sarah at the table is Chris. He stands up abruptly and marches out of the canteen, taking the static energy with him.
"What did I say?" Rory asks, amused at his brother's sudden departure. James shrugs, his eyes reflect worry for a second.
We chat for the remaining lunch period. They are so carefree, sharing stories about their childhood, or laughing about something they have seen.
Chapter 13- Kayla
Misty and I both have a history lesson. We walk arm in arm like we have done many times before. I silently chide myself for forgiving her so easily. What can I do? Everything feels so strange and unreal. Misty is the only real thing I can grasp. She was a part of my normal life.
Chris is already seated, waiting for the lesson to begin. He has a notebook ready and a text book before him.
Mr. Donald tells me to find an empty seat. Justin points to the table across from his. I sit beside him and share his text book. I really need to visit the library and get my own books. I will put that on my to-do list.
Just as luck would have it, Chris's seat is directly behind Justin's.
Mr. Donald starts the lesson. I find myself feeling uncomfortable. His voice draws fear from the hidden depth of my soul, demons and the dark ones. His words repeat over and over in my mind. My mind starts to whirl as a nightmare takes control. Everything fades away until I'm lost in my own consciousness.
The air is ice cold. Snow drifts slowly from the overcast sky settling on the white blanket that covers the ground.
Laughter comes from the distance. Two figures come into view. A young woman runs through the snow with difficulty. The snow comes to just above her ankles. Her golden blond hair dances in the arctic wind.
She is the mystery woman from my dreams. The same high cheekbones and the same full lips.
A young child, no more than six years old runs behind her. Snow rolled into a ball clenched tightly in her fist. The snow soars through the air hitting the young woman on the back.
"Let's go in and get warmed up," the young woman says in a musical voice that pulls at my heart strings.
"Oh, Mum, can we play a little longer," the child pleads, her cheeks tinged a dark pink, her nose, rosy red.
"Tomorrow, sweetheart," the woman replies, physically dragging the child along.
The scene quickly changes. A rush of heat hits my shivering body. Confused and shocked, I pinch myself. Pain shoots down my arm.
I better stop doing that. A red mark lingers.
Fire burns in a big open fireplace. The soft glow creates dark shadows in the corners of the room.
Dark mahogany walls surround me. Pictures of snow covered mountains hang proudly on the walls.
"Can we go sledging down Point Hill tomorrow? Please." The child sits before the fire, wrapped snugly in a purple blanket. Her mother sits beside her, placing two cups of hot chocolate on the floor.
"Have you seen the trees at the bottom of that hill, Kayla? They are huge. We will look for a safer hill." My heart stops. My mind goes blank.
"Kayla." The woman called the child Kayla. Looking closer at the young girl, I see her eyes change from a striking blue to a vibrant green. I gasp.
Neither the woman, nor the child notice me.
"Let's roast the marshmallows." The young woman sings as she places marshmallows at the end of two long sticks. The child's eyes light up with delight.
Once finished with the marshmallows the young woman stands and holds out her hands.
"Let's dance." She takes both the child's hands in hers. They move around the room laughing. My heart swells with a sea of tears.
"Crash!" The sound is deafening. My eyes shoot towards the noise. Glass clatters to the ground from the bay window. A black ball darts across the room at the speed of light. The ball lands a few feet the woman and child.
The woman holds the child firmly to her chest, the child's face buried into her soft blue sweater.
The ball rolls to a stop. Jet black long hair covers the top of the ball. Pearly white eyes stare blankly. The mouth is open in a silent scream. Blood pools from where the neck used to be.
The child whimpers loudly. Her sobs add to my own terror.
The
woman looks directly towards me. Her eyes lock onto mine.
"Dark ones," she whispers.
***
I snap back to reality. My mind is jumbled. My thoughts scattered. I'm utterly confused. A queasy feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach. The static in the room is not helping anything. My stomach churns and my head pounds. My ears ring.
I jump out of my seat, knocking the table over in the process. I bolt for the door. Vomit rises in my throat.
After emptying the contents of my stomach, I sit on the toilet floor, my head buried in my hands.
Was that a memory? Or my overactive mind? It came out of nowhere.
With a heavy heart and the humiliation of yet another class, I walk out of the school building. Tears run freely from my tired eyes.
I bump into Sarah or more like she stands in my path blocking my way. I try to step around her. She steps in my way again. Her eyes glow with hate and disapproval.
"I heard your Mother killed herself and tried killing you with her. She couldn't live knowing that she had created a monster. We have all heard the rumors," she taunts, her words hurtful, like a knife slicing my heart. My cheeks burn as anger rises. My hands clench into fists at my side.
"She didn't want you. She didn't want anyone to know what she had created so she hid you."
That is not true. I hope it is not. A part of me believes her. My anger rises. I see red. I'm angry for believing her, even if it is just a little. Mad that she would say these things. The wind picks up, blowing my hair wildly around me.
"Look at you, you're just a freak. You don't belong here; we don't want you here, just like your mother didn't want you. Too bad she failed in ending you." The smile on her face is cruel and twisted. The wind increases, the temperature drops. My breath forms clouds of steam as I take deep irregular breaths. The static returns along with a slight vibration under my feet. I step towards Sarah, who now looks at me in horror.
"How dare you talk about my Mom?" I scream. Plant pots fly through the air, carried by the abnormal wind.
Angels and Magic Page 23
