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Chapter 2: A New Me

Those eyes still haunted me. It had been three days since I saw that boy, let go of his arm, killed him… ok that was a tad bit dramatic but what can I say.

I had started my new school and to be honest it was as excruciating as I would have expected it to be. It might be because of the bright coloured building that was welcoming unlike the bright lights or just the simple fact that I was surrounded by beautiful people.

I had realised on my first day in school that the dark ring I had built around my self was going to come down soon. Everyone was far too cheery for my liking at the beginning but the more I hanged around with them, the more I felt cracks appearing. The sadness I was enveloped in was gone, replaced by fading rays of light.

By the third day I knew I had abandoned my side. It was rather ironic as I was wearing a shirt saying, “come to the dark side, we have cookies.” That statement had always managed to bring a smile to my face. Cookies were a known weakness in me and everyone knew I could be easily bribed with them. And to be honest it wasn’t an unnatural sight to see someone or the other at my front door with a bag of freshly backed double chocolate chip cookies there to bribe me to do something or the other.

It usually made me smile to think that a girl like me, who preferred to read than be with people, to wear rather dark clothes than the bright colourful ones sported by her counterparts could have such an addiction to cookies.

The first three days had gone by rather uneventful. I had met a cheery girl Laura who had been my buddy and she was the one who introduced me to everyone else. It was her positively cheery attitude towards life that had repulsed me from her at first. So on the first day, rather than hanging out with her I had stayed in the library. And that’s when I saw those eyes again.

It would be a lie to say they weren’t haunting me. I was sitting there reading my favourite “Cirque du Soleil” book in the corner of the library, hidden from sight, among large bookcases when I felt a faint touch on my shoulder. I squeaked in surprise. I looked around and I saw those eyes. I begged my eyes to unlock themselves from the trance, to look at the rest of him. But I couldn’t. It was physically impossible for me to stare into those gorgeous steel grey eyes. They looked the same but this time they only screamed of desperation. They cried the cries unheard by anyone else.

Just as the eyes almost looked away I saw one more emotion. Anger. It flashed through his eyes like a hot rod before the eyes and its owner disappeared once again and I was left there to gape stupidly at the spot till interrupted by Laura who told me that it was time for the next lesson.

I felt alert in those lesson, glancing around every few seconds, waiting for those eyes to appear again, in hope to see the face to the boy I had saved. But they never did. They seemed to have disappeared like the last time. Even though i couldn’t see those eyes I still knew they were there watching me.  I hated the feeling of being watched and i tried to forget it as much as I could. But they stayed there. 

And it was to forget those eyes that all of my friendships began. I had been hiding from Laura, but I figured that if i spent time with her my mind would be distracted. And how right I was! By last lesson I had completely forgotten those eyes and the person behind them. 

Laura reintroduced me to all her friends (the first impression hadn't been too good.) there was Tom, and jerry (the two twins), Sam, or Samantha as she liked to be called, and Jackson. He was sweet guy, with bright blue eyes (I have no idea why I am sooo obsessed with eyes.... it’s starting to bug me now).  

Before i knew it my too-cool-for everything attitude had gene and surprisingly so had most of my wardrobe. Samantha had shown a strong dislike to my taste in fashion and dragged me shopping. Mum having seen Samantha when she came to pick me up, took a like to her immediately and agreed to give me extra money if I could promise her not to buy the stupid black clothes again. I was about to disagree when Sam butted in.

"I promise you, Mrs Kingsley, Alexa won't have any of those hideous (she crinkled up her nose here) things she calls clothes."

"You are my little fairy godmother!" my mum cried hugging Sam tightly. I could see Sam go red but she didn't say anything. Then my mum turned to me with a stern look in her eyes and said, "Don't you buy ANYTHING that this little girl disapproves of, you get me?"

I nodded with reluctance and hopped into Sam's car. The car smelt gorgeous, like freshly baked cookies. Cookies... i dreamt. My little angels, I wish you were here (I didn't tell them I would eat them if they were here of course... didn't want to scare them away!). To my surprise when i opened my eyes there was a recently opened box of Millies Cookies. 

"Want some?" Sam asked.

I nodded hungrily as I grabbed a cookie and stuffed it in my face. I let the smooth chocolate melt in my mouth as the crunchy nuts added a delightful texture. It was like a wonderland in my mouth. By the time I finished that one cookie I was in the mall.

Honestly I LOVE shopping. I always have. But I kind of got bored of it, when my mum wouldn’t allow me to get what I wanted because it was too dark. And going shopping with friends was definitely not an option. So as soon as I stepped into the mall I felt a wave wash over me. It turned my shopaholic mode on.

The first shop we hit was a New Look. I was in there for an hour and half and by the time I came out I was carrying six bags filled with clothes and accessories.  I had bought everything from a white and black halter neck dress to purple jeans. I was in love with those jeans. They were absolutely adorable. I for once, I didn’t even look at all the dark clothes.

After shopping we had a coffee at Starbucks. Over coffee we discussed everything. I told her about my past, She told me about hers. She had gone to a ballet school till she was 15. Then she had had an injury and she wasn’t able to dance again. She was very close to being a prima donna. I felt sorry for her, but she told me that if she had gotten used to it why should I feel sorry for her. I admired her for her care free attitude and that attitude of hers made me want to change mine.

Her openness made me want to be open with her. I told her about the boy, who I had killed. I told her about his eyes. how they were so mesmerising.  She just listened. She didn’t comment, or made me sound stupid. She just listened. And after a long time I realised all I needed was for someone listen

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Hello fellow readers!!!! Thanks for reading! do comment! and excuse the HORRFIC grammer cause I wrote this when i was half asleep :P

But thanks for reading! MWAH!!!!!!