The Curse of the Lion's Heart

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The Curse of the Lion's Heart Page 2

by Angella Graff


  I began to rummage through my dresser for something to wear, feeling half-panicked about making a good first impression. I wasn’t the most trendy girl, I had never really been able to keep up with what was “in”, so my wardrobe was somewhat lacking. I figured a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with a glitter outlined skull on the front was cool enough, though. I’d seen some girl on TV wearing it the other day so I couldn’t be that far off the mark.

  My hair, which I never knew what to do with, I left down, and tried to ignore the heavy strands in the front that were always in my eyes. My mom had gotten me a pair of plain black sneakers, which I figured went with everything, and I fastened on my favorite necklace. It was a silver chain with an ouroboros snake ring my dad had given me when I was six, and I almost never took off. By seven AM I was ready to go. Or well, as ready as I’d ever be.

  I tried to choke down some cereal and juice before mom came down, scowling a little because for a lawyer, she was so not a morning person. She looked me up and down, made a face at my skull shirt, and then shrugged.

  “Just don’t cover your face in tattoos and I’ll be happy,” she muttered as she poured herself coffee.

  I rolled my eyes and slung my backpack over my shoulder, torn between wanting to just get my first day over with, and wanting to crawl back into bed and sleep until I was eighteen. Eventually we piled in the car, and I tried to ignore mom’s really loud, motivational chanting CD from some Buddhist guy she worked with at her office.

  She said it brought her peace and centered her chakras or something, but she still seemed like the same stressed out person she always had been. At least the drive to school was short this year, and as she pulled in front of the tall building, I felt my stomach lurch.

  Here we go, I thought as I grabbed the door handle. I glanced over at mom who was smiling, her eyes slightly wet in the corners, and I realized she was crying. “Oh jeeze mom, come on,” I groaned, embarrassed at the display.

  “Look, it’s not every day your baby starts middle school,” she said, her voice a little thick.

  I hated when she cried. I reached over awkwardly and patted her arm, hoping it would be enough and she wouldn’t want some squishy hug or something. “Didn’t you get this all out of your system with Amanda?”

  She smiled a little despite the tears and swiped them off of her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Oh Lexi, you’ll understand when you have kids of your own.”

  “Yeah that’ll be the day. See you at three,” I said, and managed to escape her SUV before she could make more of a scene.

  The school itself was huge, way bigger than my old one had been. It was like those gigantic high schools you see on TV with huge grey walls and a big black fence surrounding the property. There were kids everywhere, and even though it probably wasn’t true, I felt like they were all staring at me.

  I hiked my backpack higher onto my shoulder and started up the steps, feeling my legs grow heavier with each one. “I’m not the only new kid here, they’re not all staring at me,” I muttered as I made my way to the front doors. I realized I was talking to myself, which was not the first impression I wanted to make, and I clamped my jaw shut as I pulled open the heavy door.

  As I walked inside, I saw the halls lined with lockers, bright blue and red, the colors of the school. The hallway was huge, big enough to fit at least ten kids side by side, but it didn’t make me feel any less claustrophobic as I desperately tried to remember where my locker was. I had visited the school during the summer to fill out my schedule, check out the classrooms and get my locker assignment, but the place looked so different back then when the halls were almost empty.

  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and tried to remember where the lady had taken me. It was near the hallway to my first class, I remembered after a minute. I was happy about that, except that it was right around the corner from the eighth grade hallway where all of their lockers were, which hadn’t seemed like such a big deal when there were no eighth-graders to deal with.

  I hurried up the ramp to the hallway and felt my stomach lurch when I saw them all standing around. I mean, even though they were only a year older than I was, they were intimidating. They were the kids who had already mastered the routines of the middle school student, they were all freakishly tall and mature looking, and they stared at us newbies like we were a big pile of fresh meat.

  Keeping my head still ducked low, I found my locker and began to fiddle with the combination. I’d always been really good at remembering numbers, so when I put in the combination and tugged, I was surprised that the lock didn’t open.

  I tried a few more times before giving up and digging through my folder to find the scrap of paper it was written down on. 7- 24- 9. I had been right the first time. I spun the dial a few times and then tried again, still with no luck.

  Just as I was about to give up and cry, a pale white hand darted out in front of me and banged the lock twice, hard, on the metal locker. The lock popped with an audible click! and I gasped. I turned my head quickly to my left and saw a tall boy with black, floppy hair half hanging in his brown eyes.

  He gave me a smile, revealing white, somewhat crooked teeth, and then he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and backed up. He looked about as awkward as I felt, standing there looking way skinnier than most of the guys, his black and white striped sweater practically hanging off of his body. He was wearing a low-slung, dark green backpack with a skateboard strapped to the back.

  “I had that locker last year and it gets stuck all the time. Just bang it down twice and it should pop right open.” He spoke in a low voice with a very clear English accent, which totally surprised me.

  He was gone before I could thank him, and with my heart still racing, I ripped open my locker and grabbed my Earth Science book for my first class of the day. My first class was also homeroom, which meant it was ten minutes longer than all of my other classes so we could listen to announcements, and catch up on any missed homework and study for tests.

  I walked in, not sure what to expect, but it definitely felt more like a laboratory than a classroom. The floors were tile and it was freezing cold. Instead of desks, we had long black tables all around the room with stools behind them. Along the back walls were microscopes and other scientific tools. It was really intimidating, to be honest, nothing like elementary school had been. Even the students, who were all my age, looked more mature and grown up than I was, like they belonged here in this more mature, grown-up world.

  I chose a seat in the middle of class, at a table where no one was at. I threw my backpack on top, not sure what we were supposed to do with our stuff since we didn’t have chairs to hang our bags on, and I tried to stay small and unnoticed.

  The class filled up pretty quick, though no one took a seat next to me until three blonde girls walked into the class after the bell rang. Two were tall, and seemed to be led by the shorter third girl who walked in front of them, her nose in the air like she was too good to be seated with the rest of the common people in science class.

  Her eyes swept the room and she let out a loud groan when she saw just a few remaining seats scattered around. “Great,” she said, “now we can’t sit together.”

  The tall blonde with the larger nose spotted the seat next to me, which was next to a table with two empty seats. Without warning, she hurried up to me and crossed her arms. “So like, move, okay? So Misty, Allie and I can sit together.”

  My face went red and as much as I wanted to tell her that I was there first, and there was no way I was moving, my tongue refused to move and I sort of choked on my words. She looked back at her friends, Misty and Allie, who were waiting impatiently, arms crossed and feet tapping, and then she looked back at me.

  “So what? Are you stupid or something?”

  “God, shut up, Anna, she might actually be like, in that special class or whatever,” said the shorter one.

  Feeling completely humiliated now, I grabbed my bag and shuffled towar
ds the back of the class to the last open seat next to a boy with sagging jeans, who smelled like he hadn’t showered in a month. He smiled at me, but I deliberately looked away, keeping my eyes fixed in the front of the class so hopefully no one would notice me again.

  The teacher, Mr. Thomas, came in shortly after and we all soon discovered he was probably the most boring man on the planet. He spoke with no tone to his voice, just droning on and on until I felt my eyes start to slip closed. By the end of the period I had no idea what he had even talked about, and just hoped the huge stack of papers he’d passed out had most of the information I’d missed.

  I hurried out, ahead of the blondes, and rushed to my next class. Math, which was probably my least favorite subject, had Mr. Andrews, who spit. Not just like a little in the corners of his mouth which was gross anyway, but he showered the front row. Everyone looked like they were gagging, and I was just happy I’d chosen a seat furthest back from everyone.

  About halfway through, a girl I hadn’t seen in my first hour actually stood up and moved to the seat next to mine. She was short, her hair really dark, and she dressed a lot like my sister in all black with black painted nails, a bunch of colored rubber bracelets, and her backpack was covered in rainbow buttons and skull patches. She gave me a half smile as she slid into the seat and began to wipe at her face.

  “That was nasty,” she muttered.

  I stifled a laugh behind my hand, but kept my mouth shut for fear of being singled out again. Luckily the three blondes weren’t in our class this period, but there were plenty of others who looked just like them, with their noses in the air, faces covered in make up trying to make them look older than they were. I never understood those girls, and if you ask me, they didn’t look older, they just looked dumb.

  By the time English arrived, I was already starving and really glad we only had one more class before lunch hour. I had to stop by my locker before class to switch books, and the lock got stuck again. I tried to hit it like the English kid had said, but it took me ten tries to get the stupid thing open, and by the time I did, I was almost late.

  Grabbing my books, I raced through the crowds of kids who were also late to their own classes, muttering, “Sorry, excuse me, sorry,” as I shoved my way through the crowd. I skid to a stop in the doorway just as the final bell rang, and out of breath, I peered around to try and find an empty seat.

  Not wanting to cause a fuss, I walked to the first seat open, but was horrified to look over and see the short girl, Misty, from science. She stared at me like I was insane for choosing that seat, and when I backed away to find another, she said loudly, “That’s right. This is a freak-free zone, thank you.”

  My face flared up tomato red, and I wondered if all the blushing was going to cause my skin to permanently stain that color. With a sigh, I found a seat next to the girl from math, who didn’t seem bothered by my choice.

  The teacher, who looked about a hundred and fifty years old, tutted angrily as I pulled out my book, trying to make as little noise as possible. She was hard to hear, her warble barely carrying over the quiet chatter and shuffling papers of the class, and I closed my eyes, straining to listen to her welcome speech.

  As I sat there, trying my best to catch every word, I heard a sudden sound to my right. “Psst. Psst! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  It was the sound of a girl, about my age, but her voice had a very heavy English accent. Cracking my eye open, I saw her there, crouched next to my desk, her pale, oval face looking worried.

  “Please,” she begged again.

  I looked around, horrified that someone was talking to me in the middle of class. But as the young girl continued to try and get my attention, no one appeared to notice. It was when I saw what she wore that told me my worst fear had been realized.

  Crouched low, she was clothed in a dress with a massive skirt, long sleeves over her hands open wide like a bell, and a high, stiff-laced collar that stretched around the back of her neck. She had her light red hair done up in an intricate twist, and around her throat she wore huge jewels in bright colors dangling from thick, gold chains.

  She was solid to me, but I could see how every inch of her passed through the people and desks around us, and as she looked at me, her eyes told me that she was not of this world. She was a ghost, and she had most certainly been looking for me.

  I didn’t really know what to do, I couldn’t answer her in the middle of class, and I couldn’t tell her to go away. I tried to ignore her, keeping my gaze on the teacher, but when I did that, she stood up, marching directly in front of me and she put her hands on her hips.

  “How dare you not acknowledge me? I am still royalty and I demand respect! You will answer me! Answer me!” she shrieked, her voice piercing and loud.

  I winced, trying to pretend she wasn’t there, but thanks to my little curse I was the only one in the class who couldn’t ignore her or see right through to where the teacher was standing. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, hoping she would just leave.

  “Look at me!” she shouted, her booming voice startling me, and she slapped her hand on my desk, making a loud noise only I could hear.

  “Please stop,” I muttered, keeping my voice low and moving my lips as little as possible.

  “What?” came the whisper from the girl in all black beside me.

  “Nothing, never mind,” I hissed, thoroughly embarrassed.

  “I’ve come to you with a problem, and it’s quite serious, you must listen!” the ghost said. She knelt beside me and looked directly at me. “Something of mine has been taken. It was residing in the museum here, but last night it slipped into the hands of someone it doesn’t belong to! It’s a locket, but you must understand, there’s a curse on it, and if we do not find it, we are all in very grave danger!”

  Curses, danger, thievery. I’d heard it all before from the ghosts, and most of it seemed like a bunch of hooey. But if she was anything like the others who had come to me with their lost items, I wouldn’t be able to eat, sleep, or shower without them hounding my every step until I agreed to help.

  “Just go,” I hissed to her again.

  “I will not!” she cried. “I will not go until you come with me now! This entire town will be cursed if we do not find my locket! You foolish child, you don’t have any idea of what could happen, and here you sit pretending like I don’t exist! How dare you! How dare you treat me in such a manner that…”

  I’m not entirely sure how or why I snapped, but I did. “Just go away! I’m in the middle of class and I can’t deal with this right now! Please just go! I don’t care who you are!”

  Her rant immediately stopped, and with a shuddering blink, her form disappeared. It was only after she’d gone that I noticed everyone was staring at me with wide eyes. My face burned and I ducked my head, hoping that people would just let it go.

  “Woah,” said one of the boys next to Misty and she burst into peals of laughter while the other boys, who were flocked around her like little love-sick puppies laughed, too. “Dude, like what is up with you? Are you crazy?”

  “She’s totally talking to herself, oh my god,” Misty said, wiping tears from her eyes from her laughter.

  I put my head down on my desk and glanced over at the girl next to me. She was staring at me with a strange expression, but she wasn’t laughing. The teacher eventually regained the attention of the class, but for the rest of the hour I could hear snickers and little whispers directed my way.

  I took my time leaving after the bell, despite it being lunch. My appetite was long gone, and the last thing I wanted to do was give Misty and her boys the chance to make fun of me in the hall. I was the last one to leave and the teacher, sitting in her chair looking like she might fall over, fixed me with a firm glare.

  “I sincerely hope that was a one-time incident, Ms. Fry. I’d hate see a repeat of this.”

  “I promise it won’t happen again,” I said, and fought back the urge to cry as I rushed out of the room.
It wasn’t my fault that ghosts followed me! It wasn’t my fault that they screamed at me during class until I told them off! I didn’t ask for this stupid ability!

  I rushed into the bathroom and splashed water on my face until I felt calm and ready for lunch. The color of my face was back to normal, and the horrible waves of embarrassment were finally starting to slow down. I looked around several times, but the girl in the big dress seemed to be gone, so I was hoping she had decided to let me get through my first day of school without being hounded by her request. My first day, I might add, that I wasn’t sure I’d ever live it down.

  As I walked toward the lunch line, I heard a couple boys snicker and looked over to see two of the taller blondes from science class. One of them pointed and whispered something to his friend and they laughed again. Well great, they obviously heard what happened already, so my big opportunity to leave my crappy reputation of being a weirdo behind, and I’d blown it within three hours.

  I quickly loaded my tray with a microwaved burger shoved into a little silver sack, a small basket of fries, and the least brown looking cup of sliced apples I could find. I didn’t drink milk, so I skipped ahead to the cashier, slid my lunch card and hurried away from the crowd of people behind me.

  I was certain word was going to spread about my little English class incident, so I was hoping to find some secluded corner to shovel down my food. After that I could just hide out in the library or something and wait for people to forget I existed. It wasn’t like eating alone and being made fun of was new to me, so the routine was a familiar one.

  “Over here,” came a voice to my left as I scanned the room for a place to sit.

  Instinctively I turned and saw the girl from class with the rubber bracelets and sharply cut, short black hair waving me over. I looked around to see if she was talking to someone standing near me, but there was no one around. I pointed to myself and she gave a nod, waving me over again with her hand to the empty seat next to her.

  I gave her a tense smile and hurried over to the small table, sliding into the uncomfortable plastic chair. I set my tray down and tried to fight down the fear that she’d asked me over to make fun of me or ask me why I was talking to myself.

 

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