Don't Be Afraid

Chapter Three

On my way to my locker people gave my there glares, there nicknames, and start to whisper like they always do every day. But I ignore them; I have better things to do then to let them destroy me.

I reach my locker and hastily get my books for my morning classes. In the corner of my eye I see something I never expect to see. I did a double take and hurt my neck in the process. I really hate doing that. But you never guess who I saw, it was Jesse.

That must have been why he looked so familiar to me, he goes to my school. I did a mental face palm. Of course, I remember now! He was one of the jocks, captain and quarterback of the football team. He was also insanely popular (no pun intended) and probably an absolute jerk-head.

It’s a good thing he didn’t notice me, he was too busy listening to the cheerleaders rant about useless things. He looks pretty bored, poor him. I took this opportunity to get out of there; I hope he doesn’t see me.

I put my books to cover my face and make a bee-line to my classroom. ‘Can’t see me, can’t see me, can’t see me.’ I say in my head.

“Hey you wait up!” I hear his voice say. Oh my god, he saw me. I ran faster into the classroom 107 and take my seat in the back, hoping he would give up. Please give up, please give up, please give up!

He barges in the classroom; even though there are only a few people here the teacher is at his desk.

“Hey Swift get out of here! This is not your classroom.” The teacher yells at him. For once in my life, I like Mr. Grey.

“But—“Jesse starts, but was interrupted by Mr. Grey.

“Get out now or detention for a week.” He says sternly.

Jesse groans and walks out of the classroom and defeat. The few people in the classroom start to snicker. I have never been so happy with Mr. Grey in my life.

I sigh in relief and bury my head in my arms. Ten minutes later almost everyone was in there seats and class was about to start. I was already bored so I got my sketch book out and started to draw.

I didn’t know what I was drawing, I never do. I just get this itch in my hand and my hand does all the work. I found out that drawing was a method of getting unwanted images out of my head. I would sketch whatever it is out and then burn it until it was nothing. It seemed to work, so I did it.

After my hand was satisfied of what it has drawn I look down at the paper. I let out a gasp and keep staring at. It was the ghost from last night. Or demon. It seems to be staring right at me. It’s horns curved a little at the end. Man this thing was scary as hell. But before I could put the drawing away someone walks into the classroom. He was tall and kind of muscular. He had black hair and blackish looking eyes. I can already tell he was going to be popular all ready, all the girls in my class already start to bat their eyes at him. I roll mine instead. He was kind of scary if you ask me.

“Hello, I’m new here. Is this class 107?” he asks in a British accent. Oh, god. I bet the girls are probably more in love with him.

“Ah, you must be Emery Field. Welcome to Ridge Public High School, Emery. I’m Mr. Grey and I’m your American History teacher.” Mr. Grey says. Emery smiles sheepishly to the class and to Mr. Grey.

“So you’ll be sitting next to Miss. Marx over there.” Mr. Grey says pointing to me. Did I hear right? British kid is sitting next to me? I groan and open my mouth to protest. But Mr. Grey cut my off.

“Save it Athena, that’s the only open seat in the classroom.” Mr. Grey said. Now, I was back to hating Mr. Grey again. Way to ruin the moment buddy.