Remembering Darkness

So I'm Meant To Trust You Cause You Know My Cat?

(AN Picture is of Tristan)

Melanie's POV

Going to school the next day felt really normal and weird. I mean how are you meant to function normally after you've been told:

A) You're dad is an evil, malicious, black-magic-using warlock.

B) Your mom is a banished nymph princess.

C) You can control darkness.

D) Your sister can control light.

I mean you can understand why I wasn't quite up for school. But I went anyway, after persuading Ica not to tell anyone.

The walk to school was silent, as Ica and was walking with Charlotte. I became lost in my own thoughts. I had no idea how was meant to act around Jack, but it would probably be fine. He would be too busy with his girlfriend.

Jack's girlfriend is called Rochelle, and she is an absolute *beep* (I'm trying to keep this as PG as possible for Ica). She is very popular and one of those fake people. Her hair is typically blonde, though I think she might have died it. She wears quite... revealing clothes, lots of make up and is a complete drama queen.

I really don't see why they date. They have absolutely nothing in common. There are literally two reasons.

A) They are both pretty popular (Yes, although I'm not exactly a social butterfly, Jack is pretty popular).

B) Jack is pretty attractive.

Yes, I'll admit Jack is doing pretty well in the looks department, though I'd never tell him that. I'd never be able to deflate his already exceedingly large ego.

I was awakened from my thoughts when we arrived at school. Ica and I separated ways to go to our lockers and get our stuff for our lessons. Unfortunately for me, my locker was right in between Rochelle's and Jack's.

Fortunately for me, they weren't here yet.

I quickly fiddled with the combination, before yanking open the door and stuffing my English and History books into my bag. I slammed the door closed again and locked it shut.

When I turned around, everyone in the hallway was looking at me. I turned bright red and quickly started walking to my classroom, staring down at the floor.

Once I reached the class I flopped down in me seat and took out the homework that was due today. I had the misfortune of being sat next to Rochelle, as we had arranged seats (queue booing) in alphabetical order, my last name being Rosler and her name being Porter. I can tell you now, that is possibly the most difficult thing I have to endure. She has turned history into something so repulsive, that I would rather be, "pecked to death by a bunch of angry blue tits," I'm quoting Miranda there (for those of you who don't know, Miranda is a comedy TV show in England).

Rochelle doesn't like me. This could be because of a few things:

A) I'm best friends with her boyfriend.

B) Her boyfriend would chose her over me.

C) I'm not one of her stupid, mindless minions.

D) I'm not scared of her or her minions.

And...

E) I am SASSY! (Well, when it comes to dealing with her).

I opened my bag and took out my pencil case and books. I zipped it back up again and waited for the teacher to get here and start the lesson.

"Hey loser," I heard a sneering voice say.

"My name is Melanie," I informed Rochelle as she sat down in her seat, "But I wouldn't expect someone with the same brain capacity as you to remember that."

"Watch your mouth, weirdo," Rochelle threatened, "I know loads of things."

"Can tell me anything that isn't to do with make up, shoes, clothes, boys and one direction?"

"Um... Well..."Rochelle stuttered.

"Exactly," I said smugly, and turned away from her.

"Well at least I'm actually dating Jack," she hissed in my ear.

"What do you mean?" I asked confused.

"Oh come on, everyone knows that you like him," She taunted.

"That's not true," I replied, my cheeks tinged pink. Ok fine, I may have had a little crush on Jack, but I'm over it now. I mean it would be too weird, him being my best friend and all, he is practically my brother. Plus I'm over it now, and telling him this would make him way too cocky for his own good.

"Sure it isn't," She smirked at me, knowing she'd hit a nerve.

I decided to be the bigger person then and simply rolled my eyes at her childish behavior and turned to face the front of the classroom. This may have also been because the teacher had told us to be quiet and stop interrupting the lesson.

It was half way through history and I was already dying of boredom. No matter how hard I tried to find the ancient Egyptians interesting, I just couldn't concentrate with Rochelle constantly irritating me.

Then I heard the turning of the handle and every single pair of eye looked towards the door. It was one of the woman who worked in the school office, her name tag informed me that her name was Sarah.

"Melanie Rosler, your cousin is here to see you." She told me in a professional sort of way, "He says that it is important."

This news was a little strange, because as far as I knew, I had no cousins, or at least none that wanted to speak to me. I stood up and practically ran out of the door to escape the torture that is history. Sarah grabbed my arm and half led and half yanked me towards the school office.

Standing there was a boy who appeared to be about my age. He had light blue eyes, that appeared to be slightly icy, dark slightly messy hair and pale skin. He took me by the hand and dragged me at of the office, through the corridors and out into the parking lot. This was quite startling because I had no idea who he was and I had never been dragged through a building by a pretty hot boy before.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked stopping abruptly and finally finding my voice.

"That doesn't matter. But right now, you need to come with me."

"Um... I think it does matter, for all I know is that you could be some random psychopathic killer!"

"Really?" He laughed, "I'm fourteen years old, do I look like I'm a psychopathic killer or something?"

"Well I don't know!" I said, realizing how stupid I sounded.

"Don't worry I know your cat." He told me, as if that would solve everything.

"So I'm meant to trust you cause you know my cat?" I asked him, putting my hands on my hips.

"Yes." He said confidently.

"Well, I won't go with you until I know your name."

He rolled his eyes at my stubbornness and sighed, "Tristan."