But She Glows

Chapter One

So I guess I should get into the story that you actually want to hear now. After reliving it in my head over and over so many times, I'm sure that some of the details have become manufactured by my own obsession, but I'll try my best. I'll start from the beginning, as most stories do.

    My consciousness was ripped from the darkness that it had been held under for (at most) the past six hours with the blaring sound of my alarm clock sounding through my room. I kept my eyes closed for as long as I could before the beeping became mentally unbearable and I sat up and shut the off button with the force of all my morning rage. Then I just sat there, back bent, eyelids heavy, waiting for the inspiration to leave the soft haven that was my bed and get on with the day ahead of me that would undoubtedly be a carbon copy of all the other days that I had experienced since school had started up in September (I was only slightly wrong). I focused my vision on the mirror that took up the majority of the wall across from me, taking in my appearance. My skin, that had once been described as identical to a piece of printer paper painted white, was puffy from sleep. The mane of jet black hair that stuck up on ends around me was a stark contrast to my complexion but matched my dark brown eyes nicely. With a groan, I swung my leg over the edge of my bed and let my feet hit the floor. Standing up took all the mental force that I could muster at the time, leaving me to basically crawl to the bathroom. Needless to say, I'm not a morning person.

    As I walked down the hallway, I glanced into my parent's bedroom. My mother was passed out, she had most likely only returned from her shift the night prior less than two hours ago. Around her glowed and aura of yellow with a slight tinge of orange, identical to my dad's, which is normal for someone of their age who was destined to live an average to slightly longer than average life. I'm lucky that this is the case, I don't know how I would be able to look at them if they glowed the brilliant red that my grandmother had in her final days. When I finally made it to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and hair unenthusiastically, then put my makeup with the same lack of vigour. Listen, I know this sounds really angsty, but I'm the one telling to story, so I can make it as cliche as I want.

    After I hastily put on my school uniform, I stomped noisily down the stairs to the kitchen to get breakfast. I glanced at the clock as I walked past it, the exact time that I came downstairs every day with exactly 15 minutes before the bus comes. I may be angry in the morning, but that doesn't mean that I'm inefficient. I poured my bowl of cereal and walked over to sit down at the counter to scroll through twitter and enjoy the last few minute of the day that I had without being blinded by the lights surrounding me (it's a real problem, man). I downed the last of my breakfast and left the house with my bag over my shoulder to catch the bus. This story will get interesting soon, I promise, just wait.

    The bus ride was normal. The rumble of tired conversation filled the cramped space with empty noise as we moved from stop to stop on the route to school. At some point, a kid sat down next to me, but I continued to stare, unbothered, out the window. I do, however, remember the bright orange glow in the colour of my eye. He'd be dead within the year, I wondered how. I try not to speculate when it comes to people's inevitable demise, but I mean, it's hard not to. Sometimes you can tell from their personality. For example, kids who routinely skip school to get high and party all weekend who glow the same hue that I saw on the bus that day will most likely die drunk driving, or maybe overdose. I'm not saying that they all will, just the ones who are close to the end. Wow, it's really hard to talk about this without sounding like a psychopath.

Anyways, I got to school and went through my day as usual. First period, business, lame. Second period, math, less lame, but still not the best. Third period, history, not the worst. Then lunch. I usually sat with a group of people that I guess I would call my friends, but we just sort of sat in a cluster and eat while watching Netflix or something. Not a bad arrangement, honestly. Then came my last period of the day, which, unbeknownst to me, would become a sort of landmark in my life, in both good and bad ways.

I walked into my last period class, photography, and sat down at my assigned desk. I'm sat next to an empty desk, which is usual, being at the very end of the alphabetic order every time. Highly beneficial in this situation though.I sat with my back curved as I scrolled through my phone, waiting for my photography teacher, Ms. Monro, to enter the room. Students trickled in a few seconds apart leading up to the bell. The bell rang and a short, round figure walked into the room. I quickly hid my phone as Ms. Monro turned her short neck around to face the class, her face framed by a red bob that was lopsided, further justifying what we had all been speculating, she wore a wig, a very low-quality one at that. Most notable, however, was the orange-red glow that I had seen every day for the past two months at this time of day. It had gradually grown redder over that time, at the same pace that her troubling cough had increased in frequency, and her stamina was on its way to nonexistence.

"Good morning, class." Rang out her voice in the calm, yet firm monotonous tone that she took on in every situation. "Let me just take roll and then we will get started on today's lesson. I hope everyone remembered their memory cards" She glanced up over her wire rim glasses and slowly swept her eyes over the glass, making everyone squirm and reach for their cards.

    Ms. Monro was half way through the attendance sheet when the door flew open and a frazzled girl ran in.

"Sorry I'm late," She panted, "This school is like a maze, man."

    Everyone turned to look at the newcomer who had just burst in. Her warm, caramel skin tone glowed in a way that I had never seen, making the symmetrical features on her face look as if they were molded and perfected after hours of craftsmanship. Her face was framed by a halo of soft pink, curly hair. It was like looking at a fairy, I couldn't help but stare. What was by far the most attention grabbing, however, was the light that surrounded her. Perfectly yellow, as it someone had highlighted her silhouette. Her eyes swept the room, then locked with mine. I ripped my gaze away, embarrassed that I let myself stare, but with a strange feeling of happiness sweeping over me.

"Who are you?" Asked Ms. Monro rudely.

"Uh, I'm Dax." Replied the girl.

Ms. Monro peered over her wire glasses again. "Dax. Mmm, okay there you are. I'll let you in today, but from now on, late equals a detention."

Dax nodded and turned towards the class.

"Class," Said Ms. Monro, grunting as she stood up. "this is Dax, she's new, be nice. Dax, you can sit, uh, there." Ms. Monro pointed at the empty desk next to mine and my heart jumped into my throat.

    Dax nodded and walked over to the spot that she was assigned and put her books down. Ms. Monro launched into the lesson of the day and I stayed stone still, keeping a laser focus on the board as if my life depended on it. I so desperately wanted to talk to her, but what could I say? The energy she gave off was so chill anything that I said to her would make me seem inferior in comparison. It was best just to avoid it all together. Plus, her aura was blinding, both in colour and in concept. Knowing that her days would soon slip away forever seemed like a crime. How could someone so perfect die so young? Who was I kidding, I knew nothing about her. I didn't care about her, she didn't care about me. We were strangers.

    15 minutes into the class, that changed.

"Hey," Said the same voice that had spoken in front of the class before, calm and deeper than expected, "I'm Dax, what's your name."

    I turned my head slowly to look at her. My gaze settled on her dark eyes, and with that, nothing in my life would be the same again