Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

II- Vincent

II – Vincent

The week passed like a Chinese cooking show—which is to say, unexciting and beyond my understanding.

Dad spent most of the evenings driving around town to "familiarize with the area" as he put it. Obviously, he was just making up an excuse to sneak in to Centralia so he could finally get his so-called inspiration. Without a doubt, the police must be patrolling the place. He would be in a ton of trouble if and when he got caught.

Almost every night, I still had that same dream about the strange girl. Although most of it were just short glimpses and fragments—the blood on the ground, the strange scars around her neck. Not so surprising. I hardly ever slept these days.

I rubbed my palms together and shoved them inside my jacket as Dad maneuvered the truck, his eyes straight on the road. An awkward silence filled the car the whole way to school. It had always been like that with Dad. If he could help it, he would rather not say anything to me.

It was both an advantage and a disadvantage. I could practically do everything I wanted just as long as he would not find out. As long as I wasn't being a nuisance to his writing. Most of the time though, I just felt ignored and alone.

All the while I kept my eyes on the window. Ashland was a big comparison to Boston. I just got so used to the busy streets and the tall city buildings that I couldn't make myself at ease no matter how I tried.

Everywhere I looked, there were just trees, mountainsides, more trees. I felt so exposed as if a nuclear missile would just fall out of the sky anytime.

As we arrived at the car park, Dad barely looked at me and mumbled "I'll pick you up at four," which was his other way of saying "I can't stand talking to you. Just get out of the car now."

I nodded silently and got out of the truck like my life depended on it. Dad stepped on it like he just dropped a ticking time bomb. That was just so him.

Hesitantly, I slung my backpack over my right shoulder, took a deep breath and headed for the main entrance. North Schuylkill Senior High School loomed before me in gray and white. You would think I would be pretty much used to being the new girl in school by now but just thinking about it just made my stomach churn.

Before the parking lot got crowded, I headed inside. As I moved along, I noticed cracks on some of the walls. It gave me something to put my interest on. The building wasn't really that old. The offices were still pretty new.

I wandered around for a while, looking for the bathroom. I found it in a deserted hallway, in a dark corner.

Gingerly, I pushed the door. It swung in easily. The light inside was on, easing my nerves a bit. There was a stretch of mirrors in front of the rows of sinks stained by years and years of hard water deposits. Some of cubicle doors were missing. A big Duct Tape High Rulz! was written on the wall.

It had me wondering if they had Advanced Spelling courses here.

None of it bothered me at all, though. At least, it didn't smell in here. I had seen worse in some of the schools I had been to. Somehow, knowing that I was alone made me feel at ease.

I looked at my blurred reflection in the mirror—the pale, heart-shaped face, the thin lips, the almond-shaped bluish-gray eyes that had always seemed to look back at me with contempt. Shaking my head, I pushed the tangle of brown hair off my chest and over my shoulder. I tried to straighten it with my fingers but, as if it had a mind of its own, it just sprung back to its original bushy self.

Just like that, I had wasted ten precious minutes of my first day of school. As much as I didn't want to start my very exciting day, I wasn't too fond of being called at the principal's office. Or worse, to the guidance counselor's for being late.