Besty or Beasty

24 2 1
                                    

No! No no no no no! Oh god. Fucking hell! This can't be happening!

I chuck down my pencil and sigh. Homework isn't easy when you can't find the sheet, and whoopy fucking do I have lost my sheet.

"Whow! What that pencil ever do to you?"

I look up and blush. Day two of school number six and I look like a twat!

He bends down and picks up my pencil and looks in my open bag.

Oh no....

"Hooks secret?" He asks.

"Uh not any more!" I joke taking back the pencil. He laughs and sits down next to me.

"It was my favourite book as a kid. May I?"

I hand him the book and he flips it opens to a random page.

"The reflection of the moon shimmered and danced on the calm ocean; its stillness was almost sinister, the calm before the storm. A thick layer of mist pulled the sky down to the sea, creating a curtain for the moon to barely peak through. On a night like this, the ocean could be mistaken for the universe. An array of colours and shapes leapt around, creating an image of serenity and beauty. It was so smooth, calm, yet so alive, vibrant, awake. Atop the waters day the queen of the sea, the Jolly Rodger.

Even beauty was not enough to describe the ship, a giant, that stood on the liquid platform. She stood so tall, so proud, her highest points reaching right up into the everlasting solar system. Her white sails flapped gayly in the slight breeze, a lone man sat amongst them in the look out.

From every window, warm, welcoming light shone, lighting up the chambers on the inside. On the deck, some lingered, some talked and some slept, all in their own little world, peaceful and content, despite the the cold, damp air that tasted almost salty from the magnificent blue. Their only light was the moon, insignificant to most, but so, so welcoming to those on board. Every so often a low creak, almost a groan, was released from her wooden bones, her bones were old, tired, she herself needed rest, but was loyal to her owner, and would not do so until her crew were safe and ashore, back in England.

Good stuff that!"

His reading voice was smooth and gentle and reminds me of my dad.

"I'm Casey by the way." I say.

"Oh I know that! I'm Kevin. Kevin Heart."

"Well Kevin Heart, your very good looking!" I say.

"So are you." He says seriously making me laugh.

**********************************

He looks so innocent. Too innocent. He strides towards me a gentle grin on his face. Girls stare, boys snort, but I, I want to cry. He is wearing a plain white polo shirt and jeans, he dark hair ruffled and his brown eyes, trying to look kind but in truth, they're pure evil.
As he gets close I notice his height. Just about a head taller than me. Even his scent I recognise; Cigarette smoke and alcohol.

"Hello my beautiful." He slurs.

"Your drunk." I spit. "How did you get in?"

"The door." He says casually.

Twice the school has let him get through the gates. How safe can I be?

Queen of Broken HeartsWhere stories live. Discover now