The First Rule | ✓

chapter twenty - three

However, it seems Isla prefers the pouring rain over the blinding sun now. Her room is dark and lingers in shadows, her sheets sprawled and clothes cast around the room. She doesn't care. Her satin red sheets have always been her favorite -- the silky material sliding down her skin. Now every time she awakes, she feels she is suffocating under a sea of blood.

She can't sleep anyway, not anymore. Sleep used to be peaceful until her dreams constantly consisted of Felix, and the thickness of blood.

When she opens her bedroom door, she is astounded to see just how light the house is, even more, when she realizes the sun hasn't set yet. Summer seems to be right around the corner now that the beginning of May is here. The senior year ends on July the sixth, and though the date seems far away, for a girl like Isla who hasn't got any college acceptances -- it's all too close.

And she's failing. She knows she is, and it's no wonder the Headmaster has been phoning her parents more than usual, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because Isla can already see her life pass by her with no importance to the name Isla Reynolds.

A part of her doesn't even care.

You see, what Isla failed to notice is that high school draws on in a blip. Everything is temporary. The labels. The people. The popularity. After high school, that's when life really begins, and when Isla's will most likely end.

Because she isn't going anywhere.

It sort of reminds her of Felix, when they were seated in Lavo's, when Isla thought she was beginning to fall deeply for him.

"After high school," he took a sip of his drink. "Nobody cares."

You're right, Isla wishes she had said. But you will always be Felix Boulton, son of the mastermind of New York's architecture. You will remain untouchable. Powerful. And I will always be scarred from your touch.

But, she tries to shut off all thoughts of Felix and notices her mother sat by the dining room table. Ever since Isla's new hairdo, her mother approaches her with a look of distaste, which she tries to mask with a hesitant smile.

"Oh, you just wait here," Patricia chirps, leaves the room, and for a few seconds, Isla stands dumbfounded. Florentina usually keeps Patricia company, so when she slips through the door that leads to the kitchen and into the dining room, Isla isn't surprised to see that she is holding a tray with fine china on it.

"Would you like some herbal tea?" Florentina offers to which Isla declines with a shake of her head.

Isla can hear Patricia's low footsteps come closer and when she reappears, Isla doesn't see her, as she is holding a black vase of roses that tower over her head. Isla freezes when she notices just how identical they are to the other roses she has gotten, and she doesn't have to think twice to know who they're from. Felix.

She is frozen on the spot when Patricia places the vase before Isla, and Isla can't hear her speak over the alarming buzz sounding in her ear. She feels the world collapse around her and she can't breathe. She can't breathe. She can't breathe.

"There's a note," Patricia's voice is distant. "Who is it from?"

The vase is taller this time, more demanding for acknowledgement, and so are the red roses. A lot bigger than those before, blooming with a sickly sweet scent. But what remains the same, is the small red note attached to a lone rose. Isla's fingers reach for it and she opens it.

In Felix's cursive writing, it says:

Be careful. The thorns are particularly sharp.
Wouldn't like to make you bleed. ;)
- Felix