Cold Fire [SAMPLE]

[7]

When the bell goes, I head off to science alone, almost glad that Caden isn't in my next class. I take my seat at the back of class just before the teacher launches into her lesson, explaining the difference between compounds and mixtures.

Soon after the start of class, the chilling feeling of the cold comes over me and as I realise what's happening, my heart begins pounding in chest and my hands start shaking. I take my eyes off my work, neglecting my pen, and look to the left, mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to see.

But all the preparation in the world wouldn't have helped, because when I look, the man is standing just outside the window, so close that I can see the slight wrinkles on his face and the startling blue of his eyes. I tense up the moment I see the ghost, and even when a strong gust of wind blows into the room, freezing me to my core, I don't move an inch.

He's looking at me with an intense gaze which causes my heart to beat faster and louder, until I'm sure the whole class can hear it. Everything in me is screaming at me to run, to get away from him as fast as possible. But the disadvantage of being the only one able to see him is that I can't. If I did, someone would ask why, and what could I possibly say? That there was a ghost out the window?

Fear swirls inside of me, and something else too – an undercurrent of terror. I stare straight back at the ghost, willing him to go away – to leave me alone – but even if he could hear my thoughts, I doubt I'd be very convincing; I'm shaking from head to toe, and not just from the cold.

All of sudden, the glass window separating us smashes into a million glittering pieces. I scream and bring my arms up to my face as shards of glass rain down on me, slashing my arms and face and sending burning pain racing through my body.

All at once, I become conscious of other people screaming too and dashing to the other side of the classroom. I, however, remain rooted to the spot, too afraid to move – to do anything other than breathe in and out, a constant rhythm that calms my racing heart.

"Are you alright, Melissa?" comes the teacher's panicked voice. I lower my arms, which are covered in scarlet blood, and see her standing in front of me, reaching out to touch my arm before thinking better of it and pulling back.

Everything around me is covered in glass, some shards are even lodged in the desk, and I soon become aware of the hot blood slowly rolling down my forehead. On the other side of the room, the rest of class is talking in hushed voices, but a few jagged sentences reach my ears:

"...was her. The freak did it...smashed the window with her eyes..."

Of course, it's all ridiculous. I didn't smash the window. Not with my eyes, not with my hands, not at all.

Suddenly, I remember the ghost and my eyes jump to the window. He's gone, and so is the cold.

"Melissa?"

The teacher asks, and I realise that I haven't answered her question yet. "I'm – I'm fine. It just stings."

She nods, trying to remain calm but looking more than a little freaked out. Because of me, I think, and I know I'm right. She believes that I did it too, and now she not only dislikes me, but fears me. "I think you should go to the school nurse," she says, not because she's concerned, but because she wants me out of her classroom. I nod and stand, stepping over the glass and making my way to the door.

The room is silent as I leave, and I feel their eyes on my back even after I've left the class.

I walk down the empty hallways, wincing at the pain in my arms and forehead, and pretending not to notice the blood rolling down my arms and off my fingertips, leaving a trail of small scarlet circles. By the time I reach the nurse's office, I'm certain that there's still glass under my skin and nerves bubble up inside of me at the thought of getting it out.