prologue // Wren, Queen of Awkwardness.
W r e n ☪
I woke with a start, sitting up abruptly. I raised my hand to my forehead, to find it drenched in sweat, and my hair a total mess. I placed messily on top of my head in a quick bun, it would have to do for now. I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my palms, as if it would shake off the visions I explored. But it didn't, of course, it never does. Throwing off the covers and turning my head to the side, I read the old alarm clock placed on my bedside table; 3:42.
I looked around, sick of what had become the usual routine. Some nights I was lucky for even a few hours of sleep, and dreamless ones almost weren't an option anymore. The older I'm getting, the more vivid they have become. Full of darkness, and death.
It was hard to say I missed sleep, because I'd almost completely forgotten what it felt like. I stepped onto the cold wood of my bedroom, and slipped into a jumper ten sizes too big. Grabbing my notebook and pen, I crept out into the hall. The light of the moon still illuminated most of our open house, so there was no need for a torch.
It had been a gift - my book - and as much as I'd like to say it was from my mother, that's just not the case. She walked out on us years ago. I can barely remember her face, but my dad does, and I think he has to see the reminder everyday, in me. But I don't remember who gave me this book, even though it never leaves my side. It's like when I try to remember the day, when I was six, all I see is blurred figures and distorted objects. The only thing clear is the leather-bound journal, placed carefully into my little six-year-old hands.
It's filled with my drawings. Some people write what they feel, I draw. But it can lead to bad things, dark things, on an occasion. I've drawn places, people, even objects, that all end up a part of a murder investigation on the news. The worst part is, there isn't a single thing I can do about it.
Soundlessly, I was able to slip out the front door. The one thing I loved about our little house was the location, we were right in the edge of a hill, on the outskirts of town. The top of the hill was my favourite place in, well, the world. You haven't seen a sunset until you've seen it from up there. At this rate, though, it's a sunrise I'll be seeing.
Once I reached the top, I sat down cross legged, the soft grass cold under my bare legs. All I had on was thin pyjama shorts and my dad's old jumper. Taking in the crisp air, my mouth curled upwards, into a small smile, as my eyes scanned over the area. It may be the hundredth time I've seen it, but the view still manages to take my breath away. It was beautiful, every time.
Opening my notebook to a fresh page, I gripped the pencil loosely, preparing to draw. Stories filled these pages, and most of them originated from my dreams, if you could even call them that. Shading every once and a while, I began to detail tonight's vision; the glowing red eyes, the haunting figures.
I heard a crunch of dirt not far away, making me lose concentration. The shock caused me to knock the pencil, and draw a line straight through the middle of the page. Quite frankly, it looked a lot less terrifying like that. My mouth made a weird noise as I dropped the pencil onto the grass, with my eyes trying to follow the source of the noise, seeing a figure in the distance. He was just below the tip of the hill, staring at me, with a curious look in his eye. He looked no older than I am, 15. He could even be a freshman at Beacon, who knows?
Once our eyes met he froze. I stumbled to get up, to say something, but by the time I looked back to where he once stood, he was gone.
-
Lifting myself off of my rusty old bike, placing it in the bike rack. There were only a few other bikes occupying it, most people were driven to school. I adjusted the grip on my bag, which hung loosely on my shoulder, and as I walked the badges I had come to collect over the years made little jingle sounds.
I had stayed for hours sitting on the soft grass, not wanting to walk back into the darkness. Once I knew it was time to get ready I headed back into the house and, well now I'm here, in hel-, in school, I mean school.
My mind was filled with thoughts of the mystery boy from the hill. His eyes were so, captivating. Every time I thought about something else, my mind just wandered back to those eccentric blue eyes. And it annoyed me, very, very, much.
Students filled the halls, trying to make it to class on time, but I walked slowly, letting students push past and take over. One kid actually knocked into me, causing me to stumble, and, if it hadn't been for someone grabbing onto my arms quickly, I'm sure I would've fallen. Whoever pushed me had disappeared into the crowds, without sparing a second glance my way.
I looked up, ready to thank whoever caught me, but my breath was caught short as I stared into a pair of blue eyes. A very familiar pair of blue eyes. "T-thanks," I stuttered out, attempting to stand on my own two feet again.
The boy, who, admittedly, was quite good looking, smirked. He bent down to pick my bag up off of the floor, but didn't give it back straight away, inspecting all the different badges on it. "Quite the collection you've got here,"
"Uh, thanks? Could I have it back though? There's a chance I'm going to need it today," I said, mentally cursing my Social Awkwardness. Truth be told, I don't friends, if you didn't guess that already, and I don't even talk to most kids here. I was merely invisible in these halls.
The boy laughed, handing over the jingling bag. "Here, I'm Liam."
I smiled, "Wren," I looked around awkwardly, not sure if I should continue the conversation. But, being me, I just stuttered out, "o-oh yeah, I should probably get going then,"
Looking down, I quickly moved around him, trying hard not to notice the muscles. I weaved through the maze of students, and failed the fight to not look back. I turned my head back, to see Liam standing in the same spot, looking straight at me. He grinned, and I let a small smile appear on my face, before turning and heading to my first class.
-
Free periods were my favourite time of the day.
But, unlike most students, it wasn't because you didn't do anything. It was after lunch, and I had convinced the art teacher to let me borrow a studio every period I had off, and spent it working on a canvas. So, as I walked into the deserted art building, I wasn't surprised to find it empty either. I dropped my bag on the floor, and pulled out the painting I had been working on. Setting it all up, I opened a paint can and dipped my paintbrush in.
This painting wasn't like the ones in my journal. They were dark, and purely based on my thoughts, but these were full of heart and soul. At least I think. I'm working on the sunset, the one seen from my hill. I swirled my paintbrush around a bit in the tin to mix it, before scraping off excess paint and put my brush to the canvas. It was a bright pink, and I was using it to create a blend with the sky.
So focused on my painting, clumsy me hadn't noticed anyone standing in the doorway, watching. I put the paintbrush down, and held my hand to my heart, breathing heavily. "Holy cow! Don't do that, my God."
Liam laughed, stepping into the room with a weird look on his face. "Holy cow?"
I nodded, my breathing returning to normal as he took a few more steps forward. I watched as his green eyes inspected every inch of my painting. Like he was actually interested. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Well, strangely enough, I was looking for the bathroom," he laughed, looking around. "But then I heard this weird sound, like badges jingling on a bag."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, you found the source."
"Yeah, I guess I did," Liam was looking at me weirdly. I could see his eyes trailing my face, which was strange, because most people usually look straight past it. He turned to my painting abruptly. "You're a pretty amazing artist,"
My jaw dropped, and I'm sure my cheeks were bright red. "Uh, thanks,"
"Well anyways, I should probably go find the toilets in this place," Liam said, smiling.
"Y-yeah I should probably g-,"
My jaw dropped straight to the floor, and if my cheeks were red before, well I'm a tomato now. My hand covered my mouth as I took in the sight before me. I, in my clumsy ways, had managed to knock over the bright pink paint can, straight into where Liam was standing.
"Oh crap, I'm so sorry!" I squealed, looking at the pink guy. "Are you okay? Oh my God."
"Uh, it's fine. It's just paint, Wren." He laughed, flinging some paint of his wrists.
"I'm really sorry, jeez. Do you have a spare set of clothes or something?" I asked, stifling a laugh. It didn't work though, a moment later I burst out laughing. You can't really blame me, though, it was a pretty amusing sight.
Liam was laughing too now, and so we stood there, laughing like two idiots. "Actually, I do have spare, for after tryouts."
"Tryouts?" I tried to calm myself down.
"For lacrosse," he gestured to his backpack, and I saw the lacrosse stick peaking out at the top. "I think I should get this paint off me, even though the pink obviously suits me incredibly,"
I rolled my eyes, laughing. "It really brings out the colour in your eyes - wait, unless that's just more paint,"
"Well, I'll see you around, clumsy." Liam waved, before turning and heading out the door and into the deserted hallway. I watched him go, laughing at the pink footstep trail he was leaving.
-
It was after school now, and I hadn't seen Liam since the little incident in the art room. I still can't believe I managed to get pink paint all over the guy. As usual, I walked over to the bike racks and unchained my bicycle. Sitting on the uncomfortable little seat, I prepared to pedal, but a loud voice stopped me.
"Wren!" I looked up, my eyes trying to find the source of the noise, and saw Liam, jogging over to me. Breathless when he reached me, he asked, "where are you going?"
"Home?" I answered, confused.
"Oh," he looked around, and the two of us stayed silent, awkwardly. That seemed to be a popular word to describe our conversations today.
"Did you want something, or?" I trailed off, for lack of better words.
"Well, I don't know if, uh, if you had any time to kill, or something," he croaked out. "Maybe you'd like to come watch the tryouts?"
My eyes widened. "You'd want me to?"
"Why not?" He cracked a smile.
"Oh, um, n-no reason," because I'm the school loser. "But if you really want me to come, I'll be there." I smiled, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
"Oh, great! I hear the bleachers have the best view, anyways." He winked, and jogged off quickly, probably not wanting to be late for the tryouts.
For a moment, I stood there stunned, but once I collected my thoughts and got myself together, I headed over to the fields. Once I reached the stands, I rested my bike next to it, thinking I could just leave straight from here. Climbing up into the cold metal, I sat near the edge, furthest away from everyone, and stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets, noticing the cold. I saw Liam down on the field straight away, and he was in goals, practising. He was amazing, to say the least. Liam looked over to where I was sitting, and stopped. With a hug smile he gave me a big wave. I waved back.
-
The prologue! Aw, these scenes just made me feel happy writing them. Chapter one will be based on the actual episode 'Muted', with the tryouts and everything.
What did you think of the first chapter? And what of Wren in all her awkward glory? :p comment your thoughts, feel free to ask questions, and vote if you enjoyed it!
Who's excited for Moonday? I can't wait, the promo gave me chills.
Kat, xoxo