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Afterlife (Afterlife Saga)

Page 13

by Stephanie Hudson


  “So Kaz, was it anything like college in England?” They all stopped mid-sentence to stare at me now after RJ's bombshell. I played with the edge of my sleeves nervously as all eyes were on me.

  “Yeah kind of but on a much smaller scale.”

  “You’ve already been to college?” Drew asked and looked at me over his glasses, giving me an unnerving grin.

  “Yeah, well, only the first year.” Why didn’t I just lie, why did I have to disclose that bit of information to RJ in the first place! What was wrong with me? Here I was trying to start afresh and now I was digging up my past. What was I going to do next, show them my scars! “Look everyone here’s why I left” Yeah that would have gone down like a lead balloon!

  “So how come you left and didn’t finish?” Drew was homing in now and Jack had also joined in.

  “Or better still how come redo the year?” They all leaned in now, ready for the kill. Think. Think quickly!

  “A death,” was all that came out. I needed to stall while I got the story straight. Ok. Ok, who could I say died without going to hell and making me feel guilty for the rest of my life! They were all looking at me now like I was crazy and I was no stranger to those looks.

  I shifted in my seat as they all waited for me to elaborate.

  “What I meant to say is that there was a death in the family and well I kind of don’t want to talk about it.” I said this last part trying not to sound rude but still wanting to get the message across.

  “Who?” of course that question came from RJ, who else would be so blatantly nosy.

  “God sis, get a clue, she doesn’t want to talk about it durr!” Saved by the lovely Jack.

  “Ok ok…sorry,” this last statement aimed at me.

  “No problem, anyway it was no way as cool as this place, did you see the size of that gym?” I knew this would get the conversation rolling again as I had overheard Lanie saying the same thing to Jack on the way here…It worked.

  Chapter 10 – New Friend

  Introduction to Historical Thinking was my next class. I grabbed my map out of my bag and found a quiet corner to read it. All my classes had names of buildings and room numbers next to them to make it easier. But easier it was not. The place was as large as a town. It would take me half an hour to walk from one class to the next. Luckily I had a few free periods between classes so made it on time but there was nothing free about them.

  The first few days had been hectic but to be honest I had loved every minute of it. For the first time I had found that I didn’t have chance to think of anything else but class. History, Spanish and English Lit had been whirling around my head for three days, leaving no room for anything else. The only time that didn’t belong to my own mind was in my dreams.

  My dreams still held that one face, as though burned into the very core of me. It was as if something else controlled me, planting images and fantasies that seemed so real I would wake to find myself asking if he was still there. I would find myself going to bed early just to dream of him and then wake in a blissful state of euphoria, though this made it all that much harder going to work. I would fixate on the staircase using every ounce of self-control I had to not going running up there and make a fool of myself. I hadn’t seen him since that first night he had arrived, but in my dreams he had not faded. If anything he was getting clearer.

  The dreams varied slightly but the concept remained the same. He would always come to me in my bedroom. I would wake (in my dream) to find him there at a distance watching me. I was never scared but I was always wary. After all there was a strange man that I knew hardly anything about sat at my window seat or standing by my desk staring at me.

  He was always so perfect. Like a living statue you would have found at the Trevi Fountain in Rome. I would find myself staring back trying to make out every detail but the moonlight was never enough. I would start to pull my body up to get a better look but that was when he would move or more like glide, transporting somehow, as I could never make out the image of him getting to my side.

  I would freeze, locked in his penetrating gaze. He would smile preventing my heart and lungs from working together. I held my breath waiting for the next part I knew was coming. He would raise his hand and touch my cheek with the back of his fingers. His hand was always so soft, like velvet or flower petals but I didn’t understand how, when I could finally focus on them, they looked too strong to be so gentle. He traced the line of my blushed cheek all the way to my chin, lifting it slightly when he got there, leaving a warm trail on my skin. He tilted my head closer to his face and I could feel his breath. It was cool like the fresh air when it snows and smelled like nothing I had ever encountered before. It was hypnotic and I felt my head spin with every breath I would take.

  His face would be very close now and I still couldn’t move, not that I wanted to. He would trace his finger across my lips and I would feel every touch with tiny little electric pulses, as though my lips were having an emotional attack mirroring my own mind. I just hoped they didn’t quiver like I could feel them doing. That smile again. He knew they were and what it was doing to me. He enjoyed it.

  I would try to speak but his velvet voice would intervene saying only “Ssshh, be still,” which would blow more mind numbing venom my way infecting my brain’s functions making me do nothing but obey.

  I knew soon the dream would be ending but hoping that this was one of those nights it would last a little bit longer. Every so often he would stay a bit longer but it would always end the same way. It was when I was starting to focus that this would normally happen.

  I waited for the best part to come and he knew it too. His hand would find its way to the back of my neck and it would send sparks down my spine. My body would arch upwards slightly in response. His big strong hand would hold all the back of my head and entwine his fingers through my hair. I was glad I was unable to speak as every fibre in my body wanted to let out a moan. He would then lean his face to mine as though we were one and his lips would gently touch mine, but he did not kiss me, he just held them there slightly making contact. He would then whisper…

  “Sleep my Electus.” (Means “Chosen” in Latin) And once more I would obey........

  That would be the end. I would wake suddenly to find it was morning and I was most definitely alone. That still wouldn’t detract from the happiness I felt though. It was as if I had taken happy pills and most of the time it would last all day.

  “Hey, heads up!” Pink hair flashed in my peripheral vision along with something hurtling its way towards my head. I turned in time to catch a soda I wouldn’t be able to open in a while.

  “Hey good reflexes, so you got a free period?”

  “Yeah but I’m probably going to spend that looking for my next class.” She smiled.

  “Well lucky for you I know my way around this joint...where we off to?”

  “Wakewood Hall and I would sell my soul right now for a clue as to where it is.” She laughed, lightly nudging me with her shoulder.

  “Aww come now Kazzy, wouldn’t you want to save your soul selling for the right buyer, I know who mine would be... mmm oh yes.” Ok, well she had me there and I was pretty sure we were both thinking of the same person. If only she knew just how deep my little fantasies about Dominic Draven really went.

  “Come on I’ll walk you there and on the way tell you about the most amazing bit of gossip I have ever heard, better than the time Mrs Waterman tried to stab her husband over the last ding-dong.”

  We walked towards the building I needed and RJ didn’t take one breath the whole time, I was sure of it. The girl was a machine! She told me of when poor Mr Waterman nearly lost his life due to half a bottle of wine and some badly prescribed meds. From that day on there had always been a more than ample amount of Ding Dongs in the Waterman household. Oh and just to clarify a Ding Dong is a chocolate cake product not a door bell like I first thought!

  “Ok, now for the real juicy stuff, did you hear who is going to be enrol
ling here?” She was red faced and bouncing as though she couldn’t contain the excitement any longer, but this still didn’t stop her from prolonging it.

  “Enrolling… I thought it was too late to enrol?” She smirked, enjoying my being in the dark situation. It was as though she had known what I was going to say and she had every answer planned out like a play.

  “Well I don’t think that would ever stop this person, seeing as her family puts a hell of a lot of dough into this place each year!” She pointed to the building in front of us that looked old and imposing. It was a huge brick building that could have been a school on its own. The bricks looked old but you could tell the building was brand new. The shrubbery around it was still young and the trees still only saplings. The stone pathways that led to the matching stone steps looked freshly laid. It was a beautiful building and I felt I was walking onto a film set more than going to class. This could have been a house in a Jane Austin classic.

  “Welcome to the newest edition, Wakewood hall.” I couldn’t help but smile knowing that I had most of my history lessons in this gorgeous place.

  “This was the latest gift, last year it was a new sports complex,” she waved her hand as though this had been a donated bench for the gardens. So that’s how the college had been so grand for such a remote place, it must have a multi-millionaire for a benefactor.

  “That’s one hell of a gift!” I replied still in shock, but she hadn’t finished telling me the gossip of the year. So I pressed for it “So you were telling me….”

  “Oh yeah, and anyway that’s why she can get in any time, I doubt she would even have to pass a single class! They wouldn’t dare fail her, that’s for sure!” Ok, now I was lost, was she ever going to tell me who this bloody girl was!

  “And…she’s?” She rolled her eyes clearly loving every minute of my blondness.

  “Well isn’t it obvious, its Dominic Draven’s sister!” Ok now she had said it, then yeah it had been obvious but it still didn’t dilute the shock. Draven’s sister? WOW, was all my mind could compute. RJ was talking to me now doing her usual overload of information about the girl’s name, subjects and full timetable, she was like some confessed stalker but I wasn’t taking any of it in.

  I just kept seeing his perfect face in the dim moonlight, feeling the essence of him as more of a myth than human and now it was just such a normal thing for him to have a sister that was enrolling here. My imagination had run wild and now I was going to have to get it under control. It was getting ridiculous, stupidly ridiculous! What did I expect; he was after all just some normal rich guy that happened to be the most amazingly good-looking person that I had ever seen. Man I needed to get a grip!

  But deep down I knew what I had been feeling, there was some truth behind it. There was just something different about him, something…unnatural.

  “You’re so lucky, but hey you’re going to be late.” So instead of asking her why I was so lucky as I had missed most of the conversation she was having with herself, I said goodbye and went to try and find my next class.

  I got there with minutes to spare but the class was nearly full. There were a few seats left but they were dotted around like holes in an old sweater. I found one in the middle next to a guy who looked as though he had just got out of bed. His clothes were creased and he had sunglasses on to hide what I can imagine were bags and tired eyes. He didn’t even notice me as I slipped passed him to take my seat. Just then something beeped and vibrated close to me, causing the limp body next to me to react. He reached for his phone, read something and took off. I smiled to myself realising how happy I was that I didn’t live on campus.

  I remembered the late nights, the endless parties and hangovers that followed. I was past all that now. I had lived those times and I didn’t miss them. I hardly ever skipped class though but I could never concentrate with my head spinning. History wasn’t the same when you had pictures of the night before flashing up in your head like a private projector show.

  The room was nearly full now, with only the space left next to me and the “obvious” lack of a tutor. There was a hum of whispers and a continuous tapping from the girl behind, nervously with her foot. Any other day it would have drove me over the edge of my already fragile sanity but today my mind was too busy being filled with thoughts of Draven.

  Then silence hushed the room as a man walked towards the desk at the front. He slammed his bag down followed with a pounding from his books. He did not look happy. You could feel the room instantly tense up as everyone seemed to straighten up at the same time causing a wave of creaking chairs that sounded as though it was echoing on surround sound speakers.

  He cleared his throat and began.

  “This is not a class for easy credit so if you don’t want to work hard then I suggest you take up the creative arts for those easy A’s and stop wasting my time.” He paused and looked about the room. One guy got up but kept his head down, hiding his shame.

  “Ah, we have a taker, try wood work, I hear it’s a slam-dunk!” The class let out a series of nervous noises. The lad left taking with him the tension in the tutor, which seemed to please him, as if the initiation process was over and he could now continue.

  “I am Mr. Reed, Head of History. I will be taking many of your classes and believe me when I say I do not expect excuses for any reason, I don’t care for them. So unless you are on your death bed in excruciating pain and expelling every liquid from your body, I do not accept absence, just as I don’t accept tardiness.” This was directed towards the door as a face had appeared in the little porthole. She knocked and we all held our breath, instantly feeling a mutual sorrow for what was about to occur. We could feel the humiliation ready to erupt as the handle pulled downwards letting the unsuspecting girl into a pit of misery.

  She walked in with such grace I think even Reed was taken back. The classroom actually gasped. She was just so beautiful, you could almost hear all the breaking of hearts from the boys and the envious mental screams from the girls. She glided through the door in a way that would put any ballerina to shame.

  Reed composed himself ready for the kill and stared at the girl who just smiled sweetly in return.

  “I do not accept anyone late to my class, but as it is the first day, then I will make an exception. However, if this were to happen again then you will be removed from my lesson and failed on any paper which is due, do you understand?”

  “Of course and please except my sincere apologies.” Her voice sang out reminding me of one very similar. She was small and elf like, with beautiful black hair that resembled black silk as it hung down in curls to her shoulders and bounced when she moved. Her skin was almost translucent with a rosy tint to her cheeks. She looked like a china doll, as though her face had been painted in some way. It was an ancient looking beauty, one you would find on the Sistine Chapel ceiling or the works of Bouguereau.

  She looked around for a space and you could see guys standing ready to give up their seats for this lovely creature. I put up my gloved hand and the tutor nodded in my direction. You could hear the groans of disappointment. She walked up the steps and people rose out of their seats to let her through to the middle, I moved the bag that I had put on the other seat and moved one of my books off the now occupied table.

  “My name is Sophia and...”

  “Excuse me Miss I want to disrupt the class! I have had about enough of you today.” I don’t know what came over me but I felt compelled to stand up for this poor innocent girl, after all I was the cause of her being punished now. So I did the unthinkable. I broke my one rule....I drew attention to myself.

  I stood up only to get a better view of the students gasping at my madness, some even held their breath.

  “Umm...” I had to clear my throat as the words would not form.

  “I mean... it was not her fault, I asked her a question and she was answering me,” I managed to say, not as forceful as I had hoped but at least it made sense.

  “And pray tell, w
hat may that have been, as I'm sure, now you have all the class’ full attention, we’re all just dying to know what is more important than my lecture?” His words burned as I started to realize his full meaning. Every head in the room had now turned to look at me and I was in my own personal Hell! He had hit me right where he knew it would hurt and he'd been right on the money. I could feel my palms start to sweat and I rubbed them together as I tried to continue.

  “I was merely asking her if she had a book or if not would she like to share,” I said in a broken voice.

  “What a Good Samaritan you are and your name would be?” Oh shit, how long was he going to keep this going? I could imagine it from now on. I was going to be a target for every question, the butt of every joke and the bullseye for every sarcastic comment that would escape those small chewed lips.

  “Keira,” I stammered as I sat back down, trying to indicate the end of my humiliation.

  “Well Keira, I assume I can continue and would hope you are going to show the same dedication in my class as you have done with your unprepared friend there.”

  I just nodded in response and tried to ignore the stares I received from every eye in the room.

  “Well now that that little drama is over, open your books to page 68, for those of you that have them, that is.” His tone was cutting and I knew that my chances of this blowing over and being forgotten were not going to happen.

  “During this lesson you will see that reading and analysing text is central to understanding and knowing history. In this class you will understand the importance of facts. You will live and breathe the intensive study of books and documents from varying historical fields and periods.” He continued like this for the rest of the hour loving the sound of his own voice. Well at least someone in the room did.

  Sophia and I didn’t say another word to each other throughout the class but she did however keep smiling at me like I was some kind of saviour. She wrote the words “thank you” in her notebook in the most amazing ornate handwriting I had ever seen. She pushed it my way for me to read, never taking her eyes of the Himmler look alike down at the front. It was the large forehead and the shifty eyes peering from behind small round glasses that gave him the appearance of the head of the Gestapo. Hitler would’ve been proud!

 

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