I forgot about ever casting the spell — which is a half life, because I did remember it, but I never thought of it as important. I went to bed that Monday night after studying till eleven. In truth, I only went to bed because I nearly fell asleep at my desk and thought better of the kink that I would get in my neck from sleeping like that. When I woke up, the spell or whatever that thing happened to be was the last thing on my mind, rather, I felt the dread of the stupid mid semester practice exam that I had to take.
The reason I was so stressed out by that, is because I need to stay at the top of the class list. Valedictorian is an expectation. It's no if and or but within my family, so the pressures on to do my best. But, nevertheless, this math quiz was going to cause much more stress than it needed to.
So, I went about my routine. I woke up, half made the bed, and stumbled into the ensuite in my room. I stepped into my shower, mindlessly going about the shampoo, rinse, repeat cycle — also brushing my teeth to save time — until another alarm went off, and I gathered the energy to step out of the shower.
As I began to dry myself, my hand ran up against my leg and I frowned. Something horrible about having no pigment within your cells, especially your hair cells, is that your hair never grows. Now, if you were a girl, that makes life easier, but for a guy, I feel like the staple of manhood is the amount of hair on your legs. Of course, to each their own, but when there's literally nothing on your legs, it does raise concerns. But, that's besides the point.
Pulling on some boxers, I then threw on a hoodie before slipping on my uniform jacket and pants, white socks followed on right after. There was no point in bothering to control my hair because brushing was equivalent to ripping and drying was frizzing my hair on purpose.
I walked down the main hallway until I got to the end and into the main entrance where we had a grand staircase with the whole nine yards. Marble stairs with red carpet lining it all the way down. I lived in the older part of the house, the vast majority of the house having been renovated within the years that my family had lived here. I have no idea why I was given the room i this part of the house, but I did and I wasn't allowed to move. Kinda creepy, but whatever.
Descending the stairs, I avoided the kitchen, wanting to avoid talking to anybody early in the morning, so I took the round about way and entered the garage, grabbing my keys from the key rack we had on the wall and pressing the unlock button. My car — a Jaguar XE, because my parents gifted it to me, basically saying to rub the fact that we were rich — lit up with life, and I climbed into the driver seat, planning on hitting up the local Starbucks to grab a tea, preferably black.
After the run through the drive through, I arrived at school and parker my car as far away as possible. Reason? Last time I parked in the student parking lot, my car got egged.
It's not much of a secret that I'm the most hated kid in the school. Most high schools aren't like this, most of them are pretty chill about not using mass hatred and bullying and all the shit you hear about, but those are public schools. This school is an elists school. Its private, expensive, and competitive, and I just so happen to be the child of the richest and most competitive family within Yorknew. So, there's some animosity towards me, and I certainly don't help my rep because I never talk to anyone.
I took the long route around the school, entering through the back to avoid as many people as possible, and climb up the backstairs and entering my chem 30 class, sitting nearest to the door so that I could escape when I needed to, and pulled out the notes from my bag. I kept my head down, earphones in until the teacher walked in, quickly followed by the entrance of all the other kids in my class. Some ignored me, while others gave me a quick sneer, but I ignored every single one of them.
They're all in the same boat as I am. We're all expected to be the best and to stay at the top of our class so that we can take over our family businesses, so of course they'd be angry at me. I really don't blame them.
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School went and passed, and it was honestly a drag. The exam, followed by lunch, and then even more classes crammed in together so that I could finally graduate — in a year that is.
But it was after school now, and I had made my way to my car, feeling relieved to find that it hadn't been keyed or egged or some shit. I hopped in and drove home, going over the things that I needed to study, but sighing when I remembered that my mother was supposed to be home much earlier than normal today as it was a half day at her magazine — at least for her.
I pressed the call button on the steering wheel and said the commands in order to call Kurapika, who should be on his shift at the school library.
"Hello, Hunter Academies Library, how may I help you?" I heard his monotonous voice, and I couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice.
"Hey dude," I responded, stopping at the red light and glancing into my rearview mirror, I noticed that my hair was even more of a mess than it usually was.
There was a sigh on the other end of the phone and I tried to hold in the snort. "What do you want now Killua?"
"Nothing much, just wanted to chat with the lovely library assistant that everyone knows and loves,"
"You need me to cover for you again?"
I frowned a bit, but I'm used to people being annoyed whenever I open my mouth. I sighed whilst putting my foot on the gas and going through the light, continuing on my way home. "Yeah. That'd be great if you could."
He hummed a bit, as if he was trying to decide whether or not he was actually going to comply with my request, until he groaned out a bit. "Fine, I'll say you're here if your parents call, but you owe me three coffees for this."
I let out a breath in relief and nodded to myself. "Thanks so much dude. I think I'm up to, like, ten now."
"I've lost count." And, with that, he hung up without another word.
Okay, so maybe it isn't just the school that hates me, but the entire world.
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It wasn't that much later until I got home, it was actually only about fifteen minutes since I had talked to Kurapika, but there was a mission a foot. I had to sneak through the house to avoid my mother.
The first few times I had snuck around the house, it was harder than imaginable. Despite the fact that this house is ridiculously huge, there's only a few routes when getting from one end to another end. So, trying to find the best route is incredibly hard, but, from being in this house long enough. I know every crack in the floorboard, every hallway they could turn, and I know just how my mother works, and she's always waiting in the living room.
So, how do I get in? You may ask. Well, there's how it goes.
First, I park my car in the garage on the opposite side of the house because she believes that I walk to school. I have no idea why, but she does. So, I sneak out of the garage and then through the house until I come to my room, after using the old hidden servants passages, until I came to the one that opened up into my closet. From there, I climb the dressers and squeeze my way into the panel to the attic, and no one will ever know that I was home.
So, I started my little trec, using my phone to look around corners in order to make sure that nobody is coming my way or will be in my way. I run in little bursts to make sure that no one sees me until I finally come to the old door, which is one of the hidden in the bookcase — which is way to cliche, but whatever. I pull the copy of the Art of War and BOOM, access. Quietly closing the door behind me, I swiftly move my way through the dusty and cobweb-ridden hallways until I am finally created with the door into my closet and there.
Once in my closet, I quickly change out of my school clothes, keeping on my hoodie, but spripping myself of my uniform and pulling on pair of basketball shorts that are way to old -- they come up to my mid thigh.
After that, a quick hop up my dresser and I'm finally able to chill out in my attic.
Well, that would be how it normally went, except for today, because today just isn't going my way.
Exhaling from the anxiety plaguing me after running through my house, I turn around and lose all the breath I had just regained.
Before me stood a person who stood seven feet tall, had large twisting black horns shooting out of his head. His eyes wear a burning gold dipped into black pools, and his skin had a honey glow that seemed to be on fire against his ebony hair. His hunches weren't human, looking to be goat legs, but his body was covered in dark inked tattoos that covered all the skin up to his neck. His tail whipped back and forth behind him, the tip pointed and varied in a way that it mimics a spear, and his inky bat wings wear folded neatly against his back. This was the epitome of the devil, every image on the internet was true, except that fact that he seemed to appear much more human-like and had a face that attracted people, rather than deter.
I was shaking in my skin, I probably had lost the little pigment that I held, as I fell to the ground and began to hyperventilate. My anxiety was beginning to overcome me as I fell backward onto my butt and scooted away from the demon.
And, despite the fact that I died, all I could think was, "I fucking forgot to be patient."
Latin to English
Capitulum II -> Chapter 2