This might be the story with the most views, but I posted it a while ago. I feel like my writing style has changed (and improved?) alot scince I wrote this. You guys should check out Genetic Bloodlust or Schoolgirls and Soldiers. ________________________________________________________________________________
CHAPTER ONE
I sighed for the third time in what must have been a minute. It didn't feel like a minute, but that's because in math class time showed a nastier side to its humor, slowing down to a crawl. For the third time in what must have been a minute I dragged my wandering thoughts back to the Algebra II final in front of me. Focus. Consent-
"Times up! Pencils down people! Turn in your finals and put your stuff away"
I blinked. Damn. I looked up at the energetic substitute, who'd was randomly snatch pencils out of students scribbling away franticaly. Amazing how much energy he could have. He danced around, his corpulence maneuvering obnoxiously around the class as sweat beaded his brow and formed rings around his armpits. It was the last day of school, the beginning of summer, and the thermometers were already well over a hundred.
Even though the windows were wide open, the air in the room was so stuffy and thick that even sound choked up and doubled over, wheezing for its life. Everyone was groggy and sluggish, their brains fried after the exam. Most of the girls who had brought skirts in an attempt to beat the heat where having trouble staying in their slippery sweat lathered chairs. I was startled out of my foggy observations by the substitute, who had decided to cover my exam with his big, meaty, sweaty, slimy, nasty, fat hands.
"How many times do I have to say this!" he said, taking my exam and closing it, "Pencils down, time's up!"
He moved on, saying the exact same thing to the next kid. I scowled, allowing my pencil to roll away from my slimy fingers. He'd left a giant sweatmark on my test. I slouched back in my seat.
Time. One minute it pretended to be having a heart attack, and the next it hopped onto a cherry red sports car and left you with an unfinished exam. I sat still for a while, allowing my brain to cool down as I waited for the bell to signal the end of the school year. The seconds ticked by. The sweat bled through my shirt. Heat pressed its humid underbelly against the school building, seeping through the walls and permeating the class. It wormed its way around, carresing us lazily with its warm moist sides like a worm through mud.
Everyones eyes where on the clock. The class was an oven, and it was set for one minute. With every passing second our bodies melted against the seats and our minds slowly and inevitably fried. Thirty seconds passed. It was a race between our sanity and the timer. What would hold our longer? I let my head fall back, the buzzing in my forehead signaling the beginning of a headache. And then the bell rang and the time was up, our minds intact. Silence flooded the classroom, our sudden freedom jolting us out of our heat induced trance. For a fleeting instant the class understood the profound relief of the innocent whose death sentence has been called off.
Then the euphoric moment passed and my eyesight was distorted by a flurry of slick and slimy limbs desperately trying to exit the class. I waited for the doorway to get unplugged before I stood up. I shrugged on my backpack and braced myself for the congested halls of Manhattan High school. Weaving my way through the traffic was always interesting. There was always someone who had passed out these days, usually from drinking too many energy drinks. Today the main event happened to be a catfight between two gangster looking chicks I didn't know. I steered clear of the fight, eager to reach the bathroom for a water break. I dodged and ducked through the crowd, wincing involuntarily as I rubbed elbows and traded sweat.
Thankfully, the bathroom was mostly empty. I stumbled in, savoring the extra legroom. I made my way to the sink and turned on the faucet, the mere sound of running water relieving some of the pent up stress. Leaning up against the sink I could feel my shoulders getting lighter, my breath getting deeper. Someone coughed, the noise bouncing around the cold, tiled walls of the bleak and uniformed bathroom. I slid my hands into the stream, cupping and then bringing the water to my face. It slipped through my fingers and swirled around the drain, showing me my sweat one final time before disappearing forever. The last student in the bathroom trudged out, letting in a blast of noise from the halls beyond. I straightened and the youth in the mirror in front of me did the same. He studied me, searching for...what? Something different? Something new? Perhaps for something the water had uncovered? What I saw was a seventeen-year-old teenager, born and raised in San Fransisco, California. He was a lean, solid, middle-sized kid, with light brown skin tanned to a healthy bronze. My gaze wandered from his hazel colored eyes and water streaked face to his shock of short spiky white hair, the source of nicknames like "uncle" and "old man".
I sighed, turned away from the mirror and made my way to the door. I should have kept walking. I should have left the bathroom and never looked back. Instead I found myself frozen, wavering obliviously on the threshold of destiny. I'd forgotten to turn off the water. I turned around, annoyed at the inconvenience, and went to turn off the faucet. I felt the change immediately. Something was different. Something was wrong. From the very first step a tingling somewhere deep in my chest had begun. A tingling that quickly turned into a beating and then a vibrating. Every step I took was fuel to the vibrations resonating within my chest. By the time I reached the sink the vibrations where pronounced enough to reach the tips of my fingers. Thinking back, any sane person would have freaked and run out the bathroom right then and there. Call me brave, call me stupid, either way I didn't run out, not yet. I stood there, my hand hovering over the faucet. Puzzled. Cautious.
My skin made contact with the cold, unyielding metal, and as the stream ceased to exist a sense of doom descended upon the nape of my neck. Its heavy, stifling fist weighing down upon my shoulders with the authority of fate itself. A shiver went down the length of my spine and the hair on my arms stood on end, charged by some unknown force. Suddenly the world seemed to slow down, or maybe I slowed down, trapped in another one of times mischievous antics. Time, cruel little joker that it is, granted me only enough time to look up and discover that the youth in the mirrors features had turned pale and sickly white. Then it delivered the punch line. I felt as if two lightning rods had been jammed in my chest and where frying the shit out of me. The rods seemed to unleash something within me, allowing the vibrations to resonate in full force. Blood rushed to my ears, lending the vibrations a voice. They hammered at my chest, roaring and straining. There was a pop, a moment of absolute silence, and then the next thing I knew I was on the floor flat on my ass.
I blinked. Had I- had I just passed out? I blinked again and looked around. I held up my hands to my face, checking to see that everything was where it was supposed to be. No vibrations? My hands shook slightly but under the circumstances I figured that was normal. Check. No rush of blood to my ears? I swallowed, releasing pressure that had been built up in them. Check. No twin lightning rods in my chest? I shivered. Check. Everything seemed to be in order. I reached up for the sink and hauled myself to my feet. But as I stood up my strength seemed to bleed out onto the floor and my vision blurred. I gritted my teeth, refusing to pass out again. I held on for a few seconds, wavering on the edge of consciousness, until the black chasm of nothingness retreated grudgingly to a safer distance. Exhausted, I raised my head up to the mirror, and gasped. It was gone, broken into a million little pieces that had spilled over the sink and now carpeted the tile floor.
That was it, I was done. I freaked and stumbled to the door. My locker. I had to reach my locker; it was my last stop before home. I let go of the sink, concentrating on simply keeping my balance. Each step was a struggle, a desperate grapple against gravity that I refused to lose. I heaved my right leg forward, spots dancing before my eyes, and despair boiled within my chest. I watched helplessly as a deep shade of crimson infiltrated my sense of vision, obscuring the edges of my sight and striving to encompass me completely. Fear paralyzed me. I did not want to faint; I might never wake up again. As I stood there, struggling to stay on my feet, a familiar buzz suddenly shot through me, bolstering my muscles and shocking me wide awake. Adrenaline lent me the strength to push on and stumble the last few steps to the bathroom door. As I neared it I brought up my hand, intending to push it open and pass through. My hand made contact with the door, and it happened again. I felt like I was trapped, a hostage between one second and the next, unable to move through time properly. In the span of a second time slowed down enough for me to notice that my hand, splayed upon the door, half on the metal plate and half on the painted wood, sported a long gash just under the knuckles. When did that happen? Then time picked up its crutch and went on its way. My vision blurred and my limbs trembled as a flash of convulsions racked my frame. My senses began to flee, dulling enough so that the sudden flash beneath my fingers registered as a far away flash. Then darkness descended over me with the abruptness of a turned off T.V. monitor.
My eyes fluttered open. Where the hell am I? With sluggish confusion I observed the scene before me. It was a wide messy hallway, with shredded pieces of wood strewn haphazardly around the room. A fine layer of dust floated in the air, whipping around in little eddies and currents. With mild shock I realized I was still on my feet. How long had I been out? It didn't matter, all I knew was I did not want to hang around. I took a frantic step forward and stopped, gasping and falling to my knees. As soon as I'd started moving my strength seemed to drain out of me completely, just like before. Except there was no fighting it this time. My vitality had left me so completely I no longer had the strength to support my weight. My shoulders and neck jarred heavily as my knees made impact. The dull thud of my chest crashing against the tile floor echoed in my ears, as I felt my life force drain away. My vision faded, catching a lone figure making its way towards me before flickering out.