Mark of the Angels

Hiding What Lies Inside

Author's note.... Sorry it's been so long! And sorry i left you with a cliff-jumper. Omg! I just said that. Too far? Soooo...... It's good to be back! I love y'all so much!! Anyways.... TO NEVERLAND!!!! Uh.... I mean.... To the story! Hehe...

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I plummeted towards the ground at a stomach wrenching speed. I keep my breaths slow and deep. With every second I came closer and closer to the horizontal wall standing in my way. About 100 yards before my demise, I spread my snow-white curtains out over the barren land. I immediately slowed to a glide. I was now in complete control of my movements. There was only one problem. I had never done this before! For the first time in my life my wings had a purpose other than beauty. I did a few turns and maneuvers to get the hang of it. It was amazing! The wind hugging my body. The land flying beneath me. A whole world without a clue of what was above. I wooed and laughed to the air. The crushing winds engulfed my cries for joy. I began to descend towards the mountain cliff. My landing was pretty rough, but I'd say it was good for a beginner. Ha! I laughed to myself. I've entered into a whole new light. I've begun to see the world differently. I packed away my gear and headed down the side of the giant monster of rock.

I looked at the clock on my phone. 7:23! I ran to my car and jetted back to school. It usually takes about 8-10 minutes to get back, but I got there in just enough time to go to my locker and shuffle to class. Some classes start at 8:00, but I had an early class. I slid into my seat seconds before the bell went off and let out a sigh.

"I'm glad you could make it." My teacher remarked, looking over the brim of his glasses. The class chuckled at his comment. "Sorry." I huffed under my breath. Most students usually get to class five minutes early. I was an exception. My first class happened to be english, NOT a class I excelled in. The hour trudged on before finally ticking away. Freedom. Everyone hurried to escape the dull atmosphere suffocating the classroom. I was so close to the door when the teacher called me back. Ugh.

"Miss Craudwell? Could you please stay a moment?" He asked in a generally monotone voice. "Yeah." I answered quietly. "What did you need, Mr. Tanner?" I asked, almost afraid because he never made an effort for interaction with his students. "I'd just like to make sure you know what your grade in this class is." He said. Now I was worried. Though it wasn't my best, or favorite, I generally did well in English. "No. Why? Has it dropped?" I said, my voice thick with worry. My uncle beat me for bad grades. He beat me for bad conduct. He beat me for forgetting my manners. I guess it made me a pretty well-rounded kid.

"No. Actually, you have the second highest grade in the whole school." He said, obviously as shocked as I was. I guess I did do all the extra credit just in case. "Me?" He nodded. "I've.... Wow! Haha! Sweet! Uh, thanks Mr. Tanner." I think I'll just die now. Wait.... "So who's got the highest grade?" I asked out of curiosity. He chuckled, seeing that I had gotten over my shock. My teacher had suddenly shown this side of himself that proved more lied inside than what he led us to believe. He said, "A boy named Joseph Holleagh," with a grin still present on his aging face. It made me wonder. "How old are you, Mr. Tanner?" I said my thoughts out loud. Oops. He looked at me over the edge of his glasses. He seemed to do that a lot. Now that I think of it, he rarely actually used them, and for a middle-aged man, he was pretty healthy. When he stood, he was about 6 feet tall, and had perfect posture. His eyes, when visible through his glasses, were a dark brown. His hair was also brown, but was beginning to gray all over. He was thin, but looked as though he could be a farmer with his broad shoulders and his muscled arms he tried to hide. I began to wonder so much more about him and his character. I knew he wasn't married. But not much else.

"I'm 47. Why?" He stated, suddenly intrigued that I cared. "Oh. No reason, sir. Just curious." I said. "Alright then. Off to class Miss Craudwell." He resumed to look over his papers. "Goodbye, Mr. Tanner." I said. I left his classroom in high hopes. One, for myself and my academic progress. And two, for the changed nature of my odd english teacher. The conversation seemed like an eternity, but was barely 4 minutes long. I scurried along to my next class, unsure what the day would hold.

During free period right after art class I went into the library (a/n: Oh lawdy not the Vashta Nerada!... Sorry. Back to the story...) to escape the realm of the wicked. That's what I call reality. Because that's what it is. Everybody and everything is wicked and nothing is sugar coated. That may seem harsh, but it's true. I sat on the only available seat, a 2 person sofa. There was a class there studying, so not much space was accessible. I sat down like I do with every chair. My backpack is always on and I sit on the edge of the seat. It just looks like good posture to other people.

I began my journey by delving into a classic Sherlock Holmes novel. I loved his adventures because anything was possible and he always figured it out in the end. The truth was not always what it seemed. He was brave and clever and intelligent and classy. All character traits that had generously skipped my family. I was about a quarter from the end when a shadow crossed over my book. (A/n: AHH RUN FO YO LIFE THE VASHTA NERADA ARE COMING CRAAAPP!!... Sorry again. Me and my silly obsession with British Sci-Fi...) I looked up to see a boy about my age with a nervous smile on his face. "Hi." I said quietly. "Hi. Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked looking at his feet. "Sure." I said awkwardly. He sat down and opened the previous edition to what I held in my hand. I pointed and said, "I've got the sequel. Are you liking it so far?" Trying to make conversation. "Yeah. It's better than the stuff they make us read in class." He stated. I closed my book gently and took a good look at him. I felt as though I had seen him before. Though I couldn't remember meeting him, his face seemed familiar to me. "My names Emily Craudwell. What's yours?" I asked, trying to sound friendly, though I was almost too quiet to be heard. He looked over at me. He seemed curious as to why I was still talking to him. "My name's Corren Holleagh." He said just as quietly as I. He seemed, in a way, like a lost puppy. He had searching eyes, and more so, a searching soul. He looked like the kind of boy that didn't really fit in anywhere. A loner. Like me. "Do you have any friends, Corren?" I was suddenly so blunt. "No, not really. I guess." He said, as if just discovering this. I felt this strong urge to want to find a home for this stray. And I wanted it to be my home. "Well, tell you what, Corren. How about you and I become friends?" I said like I had discovered gold. He looked at me like I was a wild beast. "You really wanna be friends with me?" He was bewildered. "Yeah! I don't really have any friends either." I admitted. "Oh. Okay." He decided. I studied him like I did most intriguing people. Corren. Shaggy, brown hair. Brown eyes. Dimples. A soft spoken way about him that made him seem wise. Corren. Holleagh? Where had I heard that name before? Then it struck me. "Do you have a brother named Joseph?" I asked. He chuckled. The first laugh I had gotten out of him. I felt somewhat successful. "No. Joseph is actually my first name. Corren is just what I go by. It's my middle name." He seemed a bit more confident in the conversation now that we had broken the ice. "So you're the one who's got a higher grade than me in English!" I said. He laughed. " I've got a higher grade than everybody." He said. I laughed. He's slowly emerging from his shell, I thought. And I think I am, too.

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A/n: Sorry again about the HUGE gap between updates! I'm back on track, though!