My Sister's a Guardian (RotG Fanfiction)

Chapter 9: My Calm Before

(Content/trigger warnings for this chapter: mention of bullying)

--Ranya--

The thing about Pitch was he could strike at any second. In the book series, his attacks were more spread-out, while in the movie, his whole war with the Guardians had taken place in five days, if you began counting when he flexed his Black Sand on North's Globe and ended your count the day after Easter. It would make more sense for Pitch to continue his newer pattern, but he was tricky, so he could draw things out just to mess with us.

But the thing about sleep was my body kind of needed it, so after scouring the web the millionth time over the course of my life for any reference of anything that sounded like the Watcher, I made myself rest. Isabelle wasn't a spirit yet. I could afford sleep, and I'd never make any good decisions without it anyway.

The next morning, after I had dressed and dug my winter coat out of a box in the basement, and otherwise gotten ready for the school day (the Guardians said Pitch wasn't likely to attack in broad daylight, and I joined in saying I'd never seen the Watcher during the day, either, and my mom thought it would be good for Isabelle's anxiety if she maintained her normal schedule; my parents looked a little tired this morning, their eyes kind of glazed over), I went outside into the freezing cold. The thick mist obscured anything twenty feet from Tooth and me aside from vague shapes and lights. The fog swirled in the brisk, frigid breeze, its tendrils winding around my legs and body and Tooth's as she hovered next to me, her wings beating a high twitter.

Her shoulders were tight, and her eyes darted everywhere. Her gaze was sharp.

Even being near a Guardian still made my heart race, and pulled my mouth into a smile. I took in her glittering feathers in their real colors. Magical. She looked magical. Cool. Lovable—like I will be. "Usually the mist isn't this bad," I explained.

"It makes me wary. Didn't your mother say people have seen figures in the mist?"

"I've never seen any myself, and trust me, I've looked." A slight pout crept into my voice. "I think that might be just a rumor."

"You don't believe anything unless you've witnessed it yourself?"

"I'll believe in things if there's proof, or it seems reasonable. But I've been in Windshallow since I was nine years old, and I've never seen any figures."

The yellow bus covered in chipped paint and spiderweb cracks with a missing headlight (I was sure this wasn't legal) plodded through the fog, and Tooth and I boarded. I took my usual empty seat at the very back. The other bus occupants chatted about—aside from the strangely cold weather—homework, teachers, and friends. The names, subjects, and young faces in the conversations all emphasized what an outcast I was. By junior year, most people drove themselves or rode in a friend's car. Since I had neither a car nor friends, I was left with the bus. My chest ached. But this time, I was near my dream of being loved, and something fierce intensified within me—desperation.

"You might be used to the fog, but I'm... suspicious," said Tooth. "What could cause this every day?"

"A teacher told me people think it has to do with Windshallow Lake, but no one knows for sure."

"People think this place is cursed."

"The curses are harmless. Except for the Watcher, and I hardly ever see him."

Tooth bit her lip. "I just... don't like the mist. You said it's not usually this thick?"

"It gets like this every once in a while. It's fine. Didn't you agree with the other Guardians that we could go to school today?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm not wary."

We soon arrived at school, and got off the bus and walked—or flew, in Tooth's case—inside the looming brick building that for a brick building was missing quite a lot of bricks.

But just entering the building made what felt like thorns spin inside my chest, and me drop my smile. This was the place where no one loved me. The air felt hollow here. Horrible memories assaulted my brain—Caelum's third ostracization, when she had tried to use fake proof I was a bully myself and nearly ruined my already-sucky reputation. One day when I hallucinated, and a group of boys shoved me down so hard I bled, but the teachers didn't believe me when I told on them. Some of my first days in this building, crying as the rumor that I was on drugs already spread like wildfire in this new place, sweating because the AC had broken.

Tooth's pink eyes widened as she passed through a freshman who evidently didn't believe in her. "This is where you get your education?" She gestured to cracks splayed across a wall, and a nearby doorframe about to collapse. "These are safety hazards! When I heard the schools were in horrible condition... Isn't this illegal?"

"Whatever law people are in charge of that don't do anything. People consider it another curse of Windshallow. And it's kind of fun." My lifted mood made me smile again as I tried with increasing force to open my jammed locker door. "People bet on what's gonna break next. But not on school grounds, because apparently that's illegal."

After I shoved what I didn't need in my locker and forced the door closed, I strode up creaking stairs to the Junior English classroom. Some people already sat in the misshapen rows of desks so grimy they were nearly black, while the teacher's, empty, stood on several bricks just to keep it from falling over. A constant ticking noise—that at the beginning of the year was cool but now just grated my nerves—echoed through the room.

"Just please stay safe today, Ranya," Tooth said as I sat in the back corner. "We never know what might happen tonight."

"I will," I whispered as quietly as a could while still being audible for Tooth. "Don't worry—the mist isn't dangerous."

But someone heard me anyway. "Is Ranya talking to herself?" they mumbled.

"She must be on drugs again," someone else replied, and whispers crescendoed.

My chest ached. I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Tooth noticed their whispering and fortunately didn't reply to me.

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