So here we are it’s August in Missouri. The weather is not too hot, but super humid compared to the Texas dry heat I was accustomed to. We had found a house in a small town outside of Midvale. It was large for the two of us, but mom had made it feel like home in no time.
She gave me a few weeks to adjust before enrolling me in school. I had pleaded with her to just let me finish my last year of high school online. This way I didn't have to deal with all the negativity from the other students. She thought it was "ridiculous" and demanded that I have social interactions with other teenagers, like a normal girl my age.
She was tired of me always hiding from the world. I needed to become an individual. So what if they chased me down with pitchforks and torches. I would do as my mother said.
I had woke up that morning with the feeling of dread in my stomach. You know the one that digs so deep you swear you can feel it in your intestines. It is not my most favorite of feelings to be honest.
I do not do well meeting people because I do not know what side of me they will meet. The mood swings can happen so rapidly that I don't even know what side of me is coming out. I'm always trying to pinpoint it but just when I think I have it, I find out I was wrong.
However, today there is no choice I had to get out of bed and get dressed. So I did my morning yawn and stretch and pulled myself out from under my warm bedspread. Jumped through the shower and got dressed quickly, I was standing in my room doing my makeup and trying to figure a way to talk my mother out of making me go today. That’s when I heard her bellowing through my door.
“Dawn!” my mother called from the kitchen.
I could hear her throwing pots and pans around which meant that she was attempting to make me breakfast. She had read somewhere that it was a custom to make children breakfast every morning before school. Half the time I had to take mine on the go. It is a nice gesture, but I wanted to know what book she read before she arrived on this planet.
I rolled my eyes and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. First day of senior year, first day of not meeting expectations, and first day of faces I had no real want to meet. I had left the few friends I had back in Texas. I was in no rush in replacing them with new ones.
Needless to say I wasn’t a member of the popular crowd. I could never understand why they called them popular anyway. Nine times out of ten they were hated by a majority of the school. I suppose that would make you popular though. Even when people are thinking of stringing you up to the ceiling fan in the Science lab and watching you dangle.
I’m more of a loner, a lone wolf if you want to get technical. Except I’m not a wolf and if you have followed me up till now you realize that I’m not quite human either.
“Jesus Mom! Do you have to yell?” I reached down grabbed my red messenger bag from the floor and left the room.
I stopped and took one more glance in the mirror. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection realizing this would be as good as it got. A lot had changed over the last four years. For instance, my eyes had a mind of their own. One day they were a dark chocolate brown and the next they would almost be blue. Because the changes happened at the least opportune moments I had to create an excuse for the change. So I told all my friends I wore colored contacts to match my brooding personality, they all bought it.
My hair had once been blonde. Over this last summer it turned jet black and hung in waves to the center of my back. My mom said it was the stress that caused it. She also mentioned that my mood had changed again which could be another reason my appearance had taken a dark turn. I tend to appear as I feel I suppose. Since I was in the middle of constant confusion my body had no clue what it was supposed to do.
However, my skin was one thing that never changed. I was pale, like transparent. No matter how hard I tried to get color from the sun it would never happen. In fact, shortly after my father’s magic act I had become sensitive to the sun. Not like it burned me to ashes or anything, it just wasn’t the most comfortable feeling and it made my fingers burn.
“Dawn, do not use the lords name in vain. How would you feel if every time he got upset he cursed you?” This was my mother’s number one pet peeve. Do not use the Lord’s name in vain in front of her.
I had no qualms with cursing or being sacrilegious, I think that was the dark side of me making its presence. I giggled as I entered the dining room. As usual she had made a royal feast; pancakes, bacon, eggs and toast all laying out on the table. I looked at my mother and smiled. One has to appreciate how much she has tried to make my life as normal as possible.
“Geez mom, you think you are feeding a small army?” There was so much food and there were only two of us.
She always did this, cook like it was our last meal. Maybe one day it would be if the stories she told me were true. I don't think she ever meant to scare me. She just told me that everything wasn't always going to be peaceful. Sooner or later someone would figure out who and what I was. When they did it would change all our lives for good.
“I suppose I got carried away.” She looked at me her blue eyes were still sad.
Since my step-father’s death she had appeared more tired and upset. She was constantly praying to go home. I think she thought if she was accepted back she would see him again. I know she misses it, the whole being in God’s glory. It would be nice not having to worry about anything. Always knowing that good triumphed over evil no matter the issue.
However, in the real world it wasn’t always the case. It seems more often than not evil beats out good. The little guy would lose and the big guy, with his vile smile, would be triumphant. When there was a flip in the scale it would drain my mother emotionally, the one thing she couldn't grasp was humanity.
I never knew how to respond to her crying, I suppose my darker side relished in it on some level. At the same time though I could also feel the guilt rising in nauseating bursts through my stomach and chest. Regardless of what I was feeling I always understood her maternal instincts. Hearing her cry at night though would rip me in two. She was my mother, and she was thrown from Heaven for being in love with a demon. I always felt to blame for my mother’s falling. If she had never been pregnant with me she would never have been forced to come to Earth.
I glanced at the clock I had twenty five minutes to get to school and ten miles to drive. I grabbed a handful of bacon and one of the pancakes, kissed my mother on the cheek, and threw my messenger bag over my shoulder.
“Put it in the fridge mom, we can have it for dinner or something. I have to get going or I will be late.” I took a big bite of the pancake before turning to leave.
“Ok honey, have a good first day.” She hesitated a moment too long, I could see the wheels in her head moving. “Please don’t scare the other students.”
For the last two years I had been struggling with the reputation of being a witch. I mean a real witch, a mistress of the dark arts. A few minor altercations occurred, nothing huge, and I was present at each one of them. So what if usually someone got hurt. They always blamed me, weather I had something to do with it or not. Someone light the pyre we have a live one here!
****
The first time it happened was in tenth grade English. The girl in front of me had it out for my best friend. Her little clique of pink clad rich bitches were making comments about my best friend’s mother less than a month after she had died. They said that her mother had committed suicide because she didn’t love them and was ashamed of her children. I didn’t care if they were right or not, it was not something she needed to hear two weeks after her mother was buried.
I know it sounds stupid now, but to an angry sixteen year old it was fighting words. It was the first of my gifts to show and it was completely by accident. I was sitting at my desk thinking about how I wanted to hurt her for saying those awful things. And for spreading such filthy lies.
Suddenly these bruises appeared on her arms,
the side of her face, and around her neck. It was the most amazing and yet horrifying thing I had ever seen. She then screamed these horrible screeches of pain. She was in pain because it was hurting her. All I could do was just sit there and stare, amazed by what I had done. A couple students noticed my undisturbed staring and just like that my reputation as a witch began.
I try to stay away from that power that showed that day. It has ways of messing with your mind, making you darker than you want to be. I made a vow to only use this one when I found it absolutely necessary. Still though, it only takes once before people think you will do it to them.
The hallways would clear for me and my friends. Students running away screaming if I even looked at them. I had the face of an angel but everyone feared me. Afraid I would turn them into a newt or a frog I'm sure. My mother did not find it amusing in the least and forbid me from using my gifts in public. I was sixteen, and I was powerful, so I only used them when I knew nobody was looking.
I had few issues with the group of princesses after that. They left me and my friends alone for the most part. The other students were not always so quick to learn. You know what, I had my fun, and I relished in the joys of bringing pain to those that brought pain to me and mine. I may have taken the rumors too much to heart, went a little too far with them.
This move was about change. I would step away from that perspective and see Midvale as something different. I would ignore the fact that we had moved into the center of the Bible Belt and work solely on morphing myself into a better person. I was doing this for mom. I had to do this for her no other option was available.
****
After twenty minutes in the car and two minutes of telling myself to go inside. I made my way into the admission’s office of Midvale High School. It's not a large school, rather small compared to my last institution of learning. It is old though. The first smell that hit me when I opened the door was mildew and it made me gag.
The lady behind the desk by the wall instantly paled and hesitated even coming to the counter to speak to me. I couldn’t blame her, the girl standing before her was dressed in black from head to toe. This was including a dark ring of black eye liner around dark brown eyes. It also doesn’t help much that when I smile it looks like I’m about to devour their souls.
Thanks Dad, much appreciated.
“How may I help you dear?” Her Missouri accent was thick and you could tell she hadn’t seen the front side of the woods her whole life. She didn’t smile, and she didn’t frown, Hell she didn’t even make eye contact.
I looked at my hands trying to hide a smile. It was amusing how uncomfortable she was becoming the longer I stood there saying nothing.
She smiled one of those fake pageant smiles and went back to her desk returning with a white sheet of paper. She set it down on the counter and scooted it towards me. Apparently she was afraid she might contract some horrific disease from me if we made contact. I let out a soft giggle, and she looked at me confused. I shut my mouth and looked up at her and grinned again. She fidgeted.
“Your first class is down the hall, room 203, just go on in they are expecting you.” She took a deep breath like she had been holding it this whole time.
“Thank you.” I replied amused. I gave her yet another grin and left the office the white paper clutched in my hand.
The walk was short, but the door seemed much larger once I got up to it. I fought the urge again to bolt, but instead sucked up my pathetic fear and trudged head first into the classroom.
It went silent. I mean you could hear a pin drop. I glanced around for a second. The pretty painted faces of the girls all stared at me like I was a cockroach on their turf. The room swam in pastel and I suddenly felt like I was in the spotlight. I walked towards the teacher and handed her my schedule. She smiled at me sweetly. She looked at the page and then handed the schedule back before touching my shoulder.
“Class, this is Dawn Weathers. She just transferred here from Texas.” Her voice was sweet and flowed like honey, thick and rich.
The class on the other hand still stared back glaring at me, except one. Back row third from the left, brown hair and blue eyes. He was staring like the others, but instead of mock horror he was actually smiling. I looked at him curiously, interested.
“In the tradition of new students Miss Weathers, please let everyone know something about yourself.” I know she meant well but the unease of standing up in front of everyone was starting to get to me.
I looked at her pleading with my eyes not to make me speak in front of these people. She ignored my plea and instead motioned for me to go ahead.
“Um, I’m Dawn.” I breathed. “I just moved here with my mother a few weeks ago.” I didn’t know what else to say, public speaking was never my forte.
“Tell us Mortisha. How you are able to walk in the sun?” One of the girls in the front row giggled.
The teacher shot her a warning look as the class erupted into laughter. I could feel my face burn. I flipped her off with no hesitation giving her a toothy grin. I fought the urge to make her burst into flames and instead pushed by her and took the only open seat. Which just so happened to be in front of the boy with the blue eyes.
“I wouldn’t worry about them. The sheep will come to slaughter soon enough.” He whispered over my shoulder.
His breath was cold against my skin. I fought the want to turn around and look at him, but I knew that it would only draw attention. Something seemed magnetic about the boy behind me though. I felt drawn to him like a mosquito to a bug zapper.
I smiled to myself and without looking at him I asked him simply. "Who will be the man with the axe?" I heard a muffled laugh behind me.
"I was hoping it would be you." He said.
I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. Was he having the same issue I was right now? Was he feeling some imaginary pull and not understanding what it was?
The rest of the day was rather quiet. No other teachers made me stand up in front of class. No other students made stupid vampire jokes. Well I shouldn't say they didn't, they did just not to my face. Passing in the hall was another story all together. Vampira, Mortisha, and Lady Death were among my favorites.
****
It’s tough being conflicted. One second feeling powerful and amused to suddenly guilty and afraid. I spend more time trying to figure out what emotion is tied to what parent then I do on where I’m placing my feet. This will prove to be my biggest pitfall.
I was walking out the door of the school at the end of the day when I planted face first into a hard object. I groaned and stepped back dazed, rubbing my nose I looked up and into those blue eyes. I was in a trance my heart pounded, my palms started to sweat, and my knees were weak.
He was over six feet, thin, maybe 150 pounds. Blue jeans that were faded at the knees, a white t-shirt, and he smelled like Heaven. I caught myself staring. I hoped that I could avert my eyes before he saw, however I was too late. The smile was already spreading across his lips before I knew it. That remarkable smile. I just stared at the way his mouth curved it was enticing. I could feel a love struck smirk making its way across my face.
What's wrong with me?
“You should watch where you are going.” He said stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked at me waiting for a response, but the words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth. “You mute?” He teased stepping around me and walking down the hall towards the gym.
I stood there for another moment watching him walk away. I pulled myself together, shook off the infatuation.
What the Hell was wrong with me?
I had boyfriends back home. I had even been on dates, gone to dances, and been a somewhat teenager. However, I had never been rendered speechless. I had certainly not had someone, for lack of better words, take my breath away. Anger suddenly filled me and I turned on my heel and stormed out of the bui
lding, not stopping till I got to my car.
What the Hell was he thinking, standing in my way when I was Hell bent on getting out of there? What the Hell was he meaning by asking if I was mute? Why the Hell was I fucking swooning over him?
I pulled down the visor and opened the mirror. Staring back at me were charcoal eyes. My skin was already tingling as the rays of the sun hit me. I had to get moving before my fingertips started to burn. I huffed a few more times and went to start my car. When there was an impatient knock on my window.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cursed before throwing my hands to my face.
I rolled my window down thinking it was one of the preachers daughters (there were so many in this town) that had some invitation for me to join their church's youth group so I could celebrate all things Jesus.
“You know I’ve had just about enough of you...” I cut myself short when those stupid blue eyes were looking at me. That stupid smile on his lips! “Can I help you?” I barked hoping my frustration wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. The last thing I needed him to know is that the sight of him made my pulse throb.
“Oh, so you can speak. I thought you could considering our conversation in English.” He said sounding surprised. “Here.” He handed me a folded slip of paper. “It’s my number in case you feel the urge to talk more or if you want just text, either way it’s up to you.”
I glared at him.
Was this freak following me and why was my heart pounding again!
“Yeah, thanks” I whispered holding the paper tightly.
He gave me another smile and walked away. I was pretty sure he would be in my driveway when I got home at the rate this day was going. I was ending my first day with a stalker. Thank god he was at least cute. I shook my head and pulled from my parking spot.
Chapter Five
Impulse Text
My mother wasn’t home when I got there. She must have gone out shopping or to some flea market in town. Trust me this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. She likes to find old things and make them look like new again. We have a ton of items around the house she has restored over the years. It’s a productive hobby and keeps her out of trouble.
Inside the Fire Page 3