Immortal

The Smoky Place (Part 1)

Ok, so the Rosie chapter was a bit of a joke. Dont take it too seriously.

 Also, constructive criticism is GREATLY APPRECIATED, so, please, go ahead and leave some criticism and ideas if you have any :D Cheers

Well, thanks to attending school again, I know had far more knowledge that was sure to help me in my survival. If the hunting angel came and tried to kill me I could just hold my hand up and say, "Stop, Creature, I know all about ionic bonding. You can't hurt me."

That'll save me, for sure.

This was just another one of the stupid scenarios I was thinking in my head, for possibly the seventieth time.

Of course, if the angel really did ask me about ionic bonding, I wouldn't be able to answer correctly. I wasn't actually paying any attention. I was also, not paying attention to the window beside me, where on the other side of the road, in the school directly opposite ours, out of the window directly opposite mine, sat a boy who would not stop staring at me.

Now, you may be thinking: Aw...It's love at first sight. He finds you so beautiful that he wants to make you his and since he's only human, he thinks that by showering you with attention and by following you home, he'll get you to like him!

If that's what you're thinking, throw your brain out the window right now. You would be wrong both times. 

That...boy-that's honestly the nicest thing I can call him at this point, is a sociopathic stalker who cannot find enough time in his own life to do something better than stalk the new girl and stick his nose into unwanted places, namely, my business. Which, if you didn't realise, didn't exactly put him in my good books.

At the moment, he was looking at me. Gazing out the window in his stupid uniform with his stupid hair and stupid face with a stupid grin on his face. He looked at me knowingly. I looked away crankily and flipped him the bird.

You may be thinking, Eveny, you don't even know anything about the guy, really. He could turn out to be a really nice philanthropist who makes money and donates it to poor families living in Africa.

If that was the case, I would probably cut the poor guy some slack. But it wasn't, so I wont.

I had become more acquanited with him thyan I would have liked, over these past few days, more than I would have liked. Believe it or not, I met him in a lingerie shop. I wasn't there for the reasons you would think and, despite his protests, it turned out he wasn't there to buy anything, either. Not that I believed him.

It all happened a week ago,  when I started to feel really, really queasy. I knew, due to the way the horrible feeling seemed to wash over me slowly, that this wasn't any human condition. It was the supernatural kind of sickness.

It came in a sort of wave. I could feel the before effects of it before it hit. So, I did the only thing that came to mind. The one thing I promised not to use.

Miguel's phone number.

They must have put it onto my phone when I was unconcious. I had found it after I had gotten back home to Batty, who had crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at me saying, "Oh, so you're back. Next time, if you ever try and do that again, I wont be nearly as forgiving as I am now. And I got italian for dinner."

I had told myself, consistently, that I would never ever use it. I hadn't deleted it, though. A small part of me, knew, that it was more handy than not to have access to someone who knew something about, well, Angels.

At that moment, I was too scared to be glad that I hadn't deleted the number. I rang the number and Miguel answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" he asked, somewhat pleasantly. He musn't have known it was me who was calling him.