I didn't go to bed too late, but nevertheless, I woke up more tired than I was going to bed. Not to mention I was sore in new places from my exercise the day before. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed, but I had missed enough school and my grades had begun to drop. I took a hot shower which soothed my aching body, but didn't help with my fatigue. I was nearly late to school and was almost killed in a car accident. Jace swore a little as the driver completely ignored the stop sign and he was forced to slam on his brakes. I barely noticed though. I was half asleep.
Jace dropped me off at school and I walked in like a zombie. Ignoring everyone's whispers, I went straight to my locker, grabbed what I needed, then headed to my first class.
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"Electra! Wake up!"
I jolted awake to see Maggie standing beside me.
"What's wrong?" I groggily asked.
"Well first off, you didn't meet Dover and I in the library like we told you to. Second, you weren't in your first class. Third, you show up in second period before the end of first period and sit down at a desk and fall asleep. What is wrong with you?"
"I just...I don't know. I'm tired I guess."
Suddenly her face turns white and she points at me. "Electra...what is that?"
I look down to see a rainbow of spray paint colors all over my hands. "Jesus what happened?"
Maggie was about to answer when the phone rang. The teacher wasn't in the room so one of the boys jumped up to answer it. I was turning back to Maggie to finish our conversation when Corey slammed the phone down and smirked at me.
"Ice. You're needed in the principal's office."
I looked down at my hands then back up at Maggie. "Help me."
She rushed me to the first bathroom we found and shoved my hands under hot water. "My mom made this homemade hand soap and it's supposed to get the toughest messes out of anything so she uses it on clothes and dishes and anything else you can think of. It works wonderfully. This was supposed to go to one of her friends after school but I think it's desperately needed right now."
She scrubbed my hands hard, really scratching at the paint. The soap worked wonders and the stains were out in three minutes. My hands were red from the water and scrubbing but at least I didn't look as guilty anymore.
"Now go. Before you get in even more trouble for taking your time."
I rushed to the principal's office and was happy to see he had someone else in his room. I wasn't too late. The receptionist pointed to the row of chairs outside his office and I went and sat down. Ten minutes later, I was being called in.
"Sit down, Electra."
"What's this about, sir?"
"We seem to have a problem in one of our hallways. I am wondering if you have anything to do with it?"
I blinked, not sure if I should lie, act dumb, or fess up. But he chose for me.
"You are a model student so I don't know why anyone would play this sort of trick on you...have you seen what it is?"
I shook my head, afraid my voice would give away my guilt.
"Follow me."
He lead me to the entrance hall where the front doors were. I gasped as I saw what was before me. In brilliant colors of red, blue, green, and white a mural was displayed. The spray paint dripped in places, leaving what was once already horrifying on its own even more terrifying. Displayed on a frighteningly large scale, was me in the jaws of a werewolf. Not the version that I'd seen Jace and the Lancasters in, but the version that so often showed up in my nightmares. Something told me it was me, but I couldn't be sure because the girl's face was turned away. All I could see was a fan of dark hair.
She was wearing a beautiful red dress but parts of it were darker around the werewolves teeth. I looked away and fought being sick. The moon was startlingly white against the black sky and lightning strikes illuminated the beast. The trees were the brightest shade of green I had ever looked at and the trail of blood leaving her body was brighter than anything. The detail in the painting was what got to me. I could see every bead on the dress, every piece of hair on the beast, every leaf on the trees. It was only then that I realized I wasn't just looking at the painting, I was looking at it through my memories.
Bits and pieces of that night flashed behind my closed eyelids. I barely felt myself falling, definitely didn't feel myself hit the floor. All I remember was a stinging pain in the back of my head, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, and the horrifying image of the painting.
