Mrs. Applebee, cut, glue, stick, pile, Mr. Applebee, cut, glue, stick, pile, Sarah Applebee, cut, glue...
I could smell the light breeze flowing through the window and felt the twirling pieces of my hair around. I could hear the chirping of the crickets annoyingly mating. I glanced over at him, hoping he would have some frustrated face on, but no. His friendly beauty looked dazed but attentive and he worked at a beautiful pace. Tiredly, my eyes wandered around the classroom. Tonight didn’t seem right.
It had been an ordinary fall afternoon at Grand Oak Academy in Virginia Beach, Virginia. And yes, I know what you are thinking, that me living on a beach is the coolest way to live. And it is no doubt. Why swim in some manmade tub when you could sit by the quiet but deadly ocean, smell the sea, hear the crashing waves, taste the salty air on the tip of your tongue. . .
I sighed and rubbed my head, I had an aching headache this entire day, but now it just felt like it was going to explode. I tapped my fingers on the desk, and bobbed my feet lightly. Out of ordinary, I felt distracted. I felt so foreboding today, as if I knew something horrible would happen which might explain my unusualness. But then again it was a Monday.
The Grand Oak Middle School, a small private school filled with 250 seventh and eighth graders, was a very free opened school but strict school. The school’s system was very cool, with many clubs and organizations, but the way it was worked was like public school. I’d been home schooled my entire life until I came here one year ago for seventh grade. The public schools sucked for all ages, but this school had only been opened for six years. Although the school was not built, it used to be an old home from the 1800’s. A very rickety warned out almost collapsing home, but very large. With a very long but accomplishing remodeling, and demolition, it looked very school like, but a few artifacts and lumber were kept such as the huge stake like cross that hanged over the auditorium and walls arches in the walls and windows. At first sight it looked highly unappealing, but it was just a regular school.
"Ugh," I grumbled.
I'd kill to be anywhere but here, I thought.
No wait, I take that back. Wait, do I?
I ran my fingers through my hair, bad habit. I usually always did that when I was nervous or stressed. But you would be too if you had been making name tags for the past two hours, even if you were sitting by the most gorgeous guy in the 8th grade. Gorgeous? Yeah, you heard me.
Dean Parker, hot beach blondie with piercing blue eyes. Yeah, piercing. Like you know how in books there is always that one amazing guy with those amazingly blue eyes? Well I used to never believe that they were true, but yeah, trust me, they are 100 percent icy glittering melting blue. But that's not all, with that soft dark blond surfer hair that never gets tangled, (god! lucky!) and an absolute dove like skin with a tan that would make any model die for, (okay, maybe not, but it's basically beautiful) and to top it all off, he's got this great hunky body of five foot eight inches. (Which he has because of all the sports he plays, including basketball volleyball, football, etc.)And he's only fourteen! Wow huh? But... (I know, your probably thinking, "but? But what?! What could possibly be wrong with a hottie like this!") problem is, he's my best friend. And best friends do not date each others best friends. And unfortunately, that goes for both the best friends as well. Takes all the romantics out of life huh?
"Hey, you okay?"
I looked up, though I didn't need to. I could have recognized that voice from anywhere, the low sexy bass hum singing in my ears.
I pulled my hand away from my hair, embarrassed that I had groan so loud.
"Nah," there was a brief silence. I added,
"Nothing beats making name tags for 200 kids and their families!"
Dean chuckled and said,
"You would think that spending time with me would make your life miserable."
"What? No way! Your so awesome! And any girl would die to be with you!"
But in truth, I was feeling pretty pathetic. I mean, come on! It was a Friday night! I should have said yes to Scar, Mitchie, Leila, and Grace, when they invited me for our weekly MGS. (Movies, gossip, and sleepovers) But no, I had to spend my Friday night at the school making name tags for the fundraiser coming up in five months. Don't get me wrong, Dean is pretty awesome to hang out with, after all he's my best friend, but I could do with ex may on the name tags though.
Dean scoffed,
"Yeah, I've heard that one before."
"Somebody is a little pompous about themselves," I joked.
"Ha ha ha," he replied sarcastically and flipped his hair. Oh my god, I so want to touch it!
"We've been at it for hours. My hands aren't going to be able to hold a pencil tomorrow!" I wailed.
"I'm sorry, will a finger massage be able to fix that?" he playfully deceiving me.
"Ha, you wish."
"So I do..." he sighed.
I rolled my eyes and got up. I walked to Mrs. Walker's, our homeroom supervisor, desk and lay the hundreds of name tags on top. A couple had dropped from the desk, I reached down but then something caught my eye.
"Say, what's this?"
A piece of fabric was sticking out of a small dust covered drawer on the inside of the desk. But it didn't look like at all as if it were part of the desk.
"Who puts a drawer on the inside of a desk?" I wondered aloud.
"Perhaps Mrs. Walker? She always did seem more of the old fashion type." Dean replied, now standing beside me putting down his pile of name tags.
"And putting a drawer inside a desk is old fashioned?" I accused.
He shrugged.
"Sure, I read something like that in a library once."
I sighed. Of course he would know something like that. Besides being amazingly athletic and charismatic, he really was very smart and a bookworm. But he wasn't at all interested in something mysterious. And something was very mysterious about this.
"But who locks a piece of cloth up?"
"Maybe its a rare, expensive, fine piece of silk from Egypt."
"Please, Mrs. Walker would have to first step out of her house to go to Egypt."
"Huh, good point."
We both smiled. I picked up the remaining name tags.
It was at that moment a heart throbbing crash was heard from the out the window in the parking lot, though it sounded like it boomed in the very classroom we were in.
"Who else is here?" I asked nervously.
"Well it's a school, its probably just Mr. Cable falling over his science equipment," Dean said, but I could tell he to didn't sound so reliable with his answer.
"Maybe..."
I slowly stood up, leaving the name tags on the floor. I leaned across the desk and looked out the nearest window. It was 7:00 in the afternoon, but already it was pitched black in the night. There were no lights on, not even the flood lights that run on stored solar energy on the school.
"Whoa," Dean said coming up behind me,
"Check out the moon, ever seen it like that before?" he muttered.
I looked up, sure enough the moon wasn't at all like the moon. It looked twice its regular size, and had a moldy type of scenery toward it. A very inhuman setting...
CRASH
Dean and I were forced back from an invisible force and smashed into the wall. A blinding light came from the window, surrounding every object in the room with an alarming glow. A blood curdling shriek filled the air with an intensifying shiver. Then everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Somebody was calling my name. Who was that? What did they want? I just want to sleep.
"Val! Val, come on! Get up!" the voice urged at me. I could feel warm arms holding my shoulders. I felt so comfortable.
No I'm too tired, let me rest...
"Valerie! Please!" I could have recognized that voice from anywhere. A new set of arms took the place of the warm ones. Safer.
I will, I will...
"She's parched. Langsworth! Fetch her some water, now!" a disgruntled crude voice demanded.
Wait... Langsworth?
I heard a grumble, then someone swiftly stand up and sprinting away, the footsteps fading. One two, one two, one...
"Hurry!" the voice with the safe hands shouted.
Please do... Please...
The crude voice was right, I felt as if my throat was shriveled, dry as dust... The safe hands around my shoulders moved to my back, holding me to a broad chest. I felt secure, I felt as if nothing could tear me apart from this. I wanted to stay here, and no where else. Didn't want to think of anything but me and... and...
Wait. Langsworth!
I tried to struggle, he was here. He was here. Why was he here? He couldn't be here! He shouldn't be here! How? Why? No. NO!
I was now trying to open my eyes, free my mouth from silence, but it was such a feeble attempt. I felt weak and limp. Exhausted.
I heard the hastily sprinting of steps coming now. One two, one two, one-
"Move it!"
I felt my secure arms holding me budge a little.
"Just give her the water!"
I felt my mouth being forced open out of my power, and cool luscious water running down my shriveled throat. It felt wonderful, as if I had never had a substance so inviting, so pleasing. I tried to swallow. A stinging pain ran through my throat and lungs, but I didn't care, I needed more. I drained every last drop, rapidly quick as if no amount of water would be enough for me. I slumped down a little, the safe arms caught me by the last millisecond.
"Val? Val, come on its time to get up." A low honey-like soothing melodious voice rang in my ears. The breath was overwhelming; a fresh wholesome scent. A cacophony of noises filled my head at these words. All uncomprehending.
My eyes slowly opened. I panicky fished out where the voice was coming from, the aroma, the fault. The scene wasn't right. Dean was crouching over me, arms around me as if I were a precious fragile angel. His eyes were wet, and his face colorless. I gaped at him, wondering what on earth could have happen to make him look so... hysteric, dismay covered his entire face. Time went slowly. His facial expression did not changed. In fact, he looked more displeased by the second. I wanted to change this. Wanted his cheery smile back. I could not stand this. But I didn't know what to say. My voice could work, but did I have the willpower to use it?
"Achem"
Confusion sweeping through me, I looked to the sound of the irritated voice.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. It's him. Him. He's here.
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