Life is chemistry. It sounds complicated, or like something you might hear from a middle school science teacher, but it's true, nonetheless. We're not talking about the chemistry that you would learn in a lab. Life is the chemistry between people. Sometimes it is volatile, violent, and intense, leaving nothing but destruction and chaos in its wake. Sometimes it is bliss, calm, and peaceful. A true union between two souls that combine to create something more, something better. It cannot be predicted. It cannot be synthesized and recreated. What it is, is undeniable. Life is the interactions between people, and each moment in time creates a change in who you are and what you will become.
Remember that.
This Is Where Your Story Begins
An intimidatingly large building stood in front of her. The leaves shaked in breeze and caused a slight shiver in the air. Claire's shoes clicked against the stone floor as she hurriedly walked towards the classroom entrance. She feared being late on her first day.
She could fake the confidence need to survive, if it wasn't for this feeling of estrangement in this chattering and crowded classroom. Hesitantly, she walked in as quietly as possible, trying to avoid being seen or heard. Being the here was unlike any other stress she had felt in her life, but she knew this could be good for her either way—a new environment in a physical classroom.
The room was rectangular in shape with an upwards slope, which allowed all the students to see the large blackboard at the front of the room. Claire frowned as she noticed the odd placement of desks; The teacher's desk was in the front of the room, down at the bottom to her right, and the students' desks were lined in rows, each row six inches higher than the last. Steps led up to the top rows; these were required to accommodate those who chose to sit on the uppermost level, even though only five rows were back from the front. Nothing else was visible other than the lack of Mr. Ednill's presence, making the room feel uneasy.
Her heart thumped unusually loudly in her ears as she stood awkwardly in the corner, furthest away from the other students. She rested her head in her palms in an attempt to control her pounding chest and heavy breathing. It will be fine, she thought to herself. It was like regular classes at her old school, just indoors. She felt the eyes of everyone in the classroom subtly glance over at her, the feeling of embarrassment and discomfort evident on her flushed face. It felt as if time had slowed down just enough to make the handful of seconds it took to go up the seven stairs to the highest desks feel like minutes without end.
"Quick, open the window!" a muffled voice shouted. Several students ran over to the girl on the other side of the glass pane, pushing and pulling at the locks and levers on the windowsill.
One student unlocked the window with a rapid flick of their wand, and everyone watched in awe as it thrust open with a loud bang.
A girl with umber brown hair tied into a loose braid threw her book bag into the now open window. It hit the floor loudly, and the girl followed suit, flopping her body inside and landing onto the elevated floor behind one of the fifth-row desks. Moments after her foot made its way over the windowsill, a slender man walked into the room. His face was solemn and square-shaped, with a rounded chin that seemed like it was perpetually pushed in. The man's neatly combed hair atop his head was dyed a grayish-black like a sea snail coming out of its shell. His wide eyes were the color of rich soil with gold rings around his pupils and his tall stature, composed of long legs and a short torso, gave him the appearance of something other-worldly. He stared at the girl by the window and re-adjusted the navy blue tie resting over his blue checkered shirt.
"Elora," the man called out. "You're late..."
Elora stood up straight, fixed a part of her brown hair that managed to come undone from her braid and brushed the dirt off herself. "Not really, Mr. Ednill," she replied with a shrug, picking up the bag that she threw onto the floor just moments before. She effortlessly swung one of the straps over her left shoulder. "You see, I arrived 1.493 seconds before you did. Therefore, technically I was in the room before you and cannot be counted as late." She made her way to one of the empty desks in the second row and grinned victoriously.
"I won't count it this time, but don't push it, Elora," replied Mr. Ednill. His eyes showed no emotion, and his expression was stern. "We don't want to repeat what happened last year."
Amid the distraction, Claire quietly took her seat next to a petite girl in the back of the room. The girl's short, dark brown, and curly hair seemed to glow in the sunlight that peeked through the window.
"What happened last year?" Claire muttered in wonder.
"She hit thirty-two late last spring. Ten of which were for attendance, twelve were homework, six were classwork, and four were field trip related," the girl responded, "I'm Mystic, by the way." She stuck out her hand for Claire to shake. "And judging from your lack of knowledge of who Elora Cole is, you must be the newbie," Mystic smiled. "Also, you're in Abelle's seat."
Claire nodded her head and politely shook Mystic's hand, "I'm sorry, I'll move then." She awkwardly picked up her book bag to prepare to move. She didn't know who this "Abelle" was, but she also didn't know how forgiving Abelle would be if she stayed in this seat.
"I'm-" Claire began to introduce herself to Mystic when Mr. Ednill's thick cough cut her sentence short. It signaled that the class was about to start.
Mr. Ednill, despite his strange lengthy stature—some kids would describe him as a spaghetti man—was the kind of teacher that most students never thought twice about. He made it clear that he believed the relationship between teacher and student was education-oriented. In his class, there was a particular order to uphold and maintain at all times. Rumor has it that if you dared to visit during his office hours to discuss anything other than the current lesson, the chair where you sat would literally spring and fly you out of the room.
In a loud, austere tone, he called Claire up to the front of the class.
Afraid of what would happen if she disobeyed, she carefully made her way down from the top row seat and to the large cherrywood desk next to Mr. Ednill.
"I bet you were all wondering who this lovely new student in our homeroom is?" Ednill asked the class. Everyone groaned simultaneously. It wasn't because the student body did not welcome new students, but more for the fact that Mr. Ednill had brought up the arrival of a "new student" on the daily for the entire previous month. The class was obviously sick of hearing about it.
She knew that they weren't wondering who she was, yet Mr. Ednill couldn't help but lecture on. "She transferred here from the coast of the Pacific Ocean, isn't that right?" He looked to Claire for a response.
Claire nodded her head in agreement and smiled at the class. They all stared back at her blankly. "Yes, that's true, I-" she began, yet was stopped in her tracks by a loud bang. Each head in the class turned to face a boy stomping into the classroom, grumbling to himself with his gaze locked onto the floor. He furiously made his way to a seat in the front row. His face was flushed red. His teeth gritted together tighter with every mumble he managed to squeeze out.
"You're late, Niccolo." Ednill spat out the name "Niccolo" like a curse. The stern look he had with Elora just moments before appeared once again. This time it was for Niccolo.
"It's just Nick!" Nick shouted, "Not Niccolo. Just Nick." He took his seat in the front row of the class. This struck Claire as particularly odd for someone who seemed so disinterested in the school and was openly disrespectful to a teacher.
Ednill sighed. He motioned Claire to continue with what she was saying.
"I am- Well I was," she corrected herself, "Part of the O.A.M. The Ondine Academy of Mer."
"And now you're here. Not so special now, are you?" Nick spat. "Private school kid," He huffed under his breath.
His words stung, yet he was right, and Claire knew it. She was exceptional, a previous student from one of the most prestigious schools for gifted people. But Claire wasn't that person anymore. She had moved on from that life, and now she stood, in front of a class of people she barely knew, in a place she felt no connection to, being lectured by a boy she had just met. Despite his harsh words, Claire found the courage to speak out in rebuttal. "Actually, yeah. I was considered special," she snapped at him. "I was a private school kid. There's nothing wrong with that," she looked Nick straight in the eye, "but that doesn't matter now. I'm here, and I don't think I'm going to be leaving any time soon."
"You won't last a week here, Fishsticks," Nick replied with a smirk.
"It's just Claire, actually." She mocked back, ensuring that her voice mimicked Nick's tone on Ednill a few moments before. Her eyes scanned the rest of her classmates' faces, many of which gawked with their mouths wide open in disbelief. Claire turned to Mr. Ednill. "Is there anything else you would like to know?" she asked cheerfully.
Mr. Ednill shook his head, smiling down at her with some admiration, "No, I think we are all good, that was very... well said, Claire. Thank you for that honest introduction." He motioned for her to take a seat with the rest of the class with a gentle wave.
Claire looked around for another empty desk to sit at. The one besides Mystic had already been taken by who she could only assume to be Abelle. The only other desk available to her was seated right next to the boy who had just publicly mocked her. She shook her head in annoyance and unenthusiastically made her way over to the unoccupied seat.
"This seat is taken," Nick said confidently as he placed his backpack on the chair. Claire rolled her eyes at his childish behavior. His bag was slightly opened, and the green fabric rustled and jittered as if something was moving inside. Whatever Nick was hiding clearly wanted to come out. He noticed Claire eyeing the bag suspiciously, immediately zipped it up protectively, and turned to face the blackboard.
"Yeah, by me," Claire asserted while picking the backpack off the chair and tossing it onto the floor next to his feet.
Nick caught the bag mid-air, "Careful! My sis- my raven, is in here!" he corrected. "My raven is in here. Watch out, she bites," he said with a cynical grin.
Claire placed her book-bag on the ground away from Nick's reach and sat beside him unwillingly. "You brought your bird to class?" she asked, skeptical about his absurd statement.
"Yes," he replied, pulling his bag closer to his chest, "That way, she can't mess up my day. Besides, Lawrence won't even know."
"Nick, since when were you on a first-name basis with Mr. Ednill?" The girl who had previously jumped through the window interjected. She sat comfortably in her seat one row behind Nick and Claire.
"Elora, don't get involved," the girl next to her muttered.
"It's fine, Lily. After all, it's only Niccolo," Elora grinned a toothy smile.
"It's just Nick!"
Claire held in her giggle and flashed the girls a quick but silent smile, grateful that they had smiled back at her.
Ednill made his way over to the front row. He scowled down at Nick and his backpack.
"I see you're up to your old tricks again," Ednill said to him with his arms crossed in front of his chest, if reminded Claire of the way a parent would stand when scolding their child.
"Mind your own business," Nick scoffed.
"My business is to deal with things that are not what they appear. Such as what is in your backpack."
Nick sneered at Mr. Ednill's statement and looked down at the bag on the floor at his feet.
"Hand it here."
"No!"
"Niccolo Quire, I will not stand for this nonsense! Give me the bag!"
Nick sighed in defeat, tossing his ring up and catching it as it fell back into the palm of his hand over and over again, before finally handing his backpack over to Ednill.
"That'll be one week of detention for disobedience," Mr. Ednill glared at Nick momentarily and unzipped his bag, letting the petite black raven fly out and up into the air, "and another two for this little stunt."
The creature flew over students' heads, many of whom were ducking under their hands and covering their faces protectively. After several moments of the bird circling the room, everyone watched as it finally stopped to perch itself on the empty desk next to Mystic.
"Change her back, Quire," Ednill demanded.
Nick persisted, refusing to even acknowledge Ednill's presence.
"Okay, four weeks detention."
The class watched on in silence, anticipating Nick's next move. The threat of month-long detention did not bother Nick. He remained the same, expressionless and defiant.
"Want to make it five?"
"Finem face," Nick sighed as he waved his right hand and snapped his fingers to complete the spell. He refused to turn his head around to watch the transformation, "There, happy now?"
A ray of gleaming purple light engulfed the bird, and right before Claire's eyes, where the black raven was once perched, was now a girl with jet black hair past her shoulder blades, big brown eyes, and a strange resemblance to that of Nick. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger as she glared in Nick's direction. It was clear that she was much more than just unhappy with Nick. She was livid. The girl let out one last gurgling croak and proceeded to brush off the loose feathers that stuck to her dress. She took her seat next to Mystic in the back of the class.
Claire did not envy that girl. If she had been in her position, mortified would be an understatement. Dumbfounded, Claire came to the realization that the bird was none other than Nick's sister. To have a brother like Nick must be unbearable, she thought.
"Abelle, are you alright?" Ednill asked, concern evidently plastered on his face as he looked at her.
"Just peachy..." she sarcastically responded. She looked down at her brother from her desk with narrow eyes.
Ednill nodded, not wanting to bring any more attention to her, "Volk has requested to see you by the end of the day. I trust you will make an effort to do so."
Abelle sighed and nodded back.
Something strange was going on. Claire had yet to realize it, but she could feel a force running through her, like a skipping a stone into the ocean, a power entered her body with each moment she looked at the Quires, sending ripples of fear with every breath. Ripples lessen in intensity after several jumps, the water eventually returns to the smoothness of silk. But instead, Claire felt panic rise in her chest as if the stone never stopped skipping. One question flooded her mind over and over again—Who are Nick and Abelle Quire?
-------- Author's Note-------
Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Venefica: Stories From Your Memories! Venefica means a lot to me on a personal level. The stories of these characters have helped me move past my own troubles and life sorrows. I share these stories with you in hopes they will have an impact on someone else too. Even if the words on this page only make one person feel better on a rainy day, this story will have been successful.
This chapter's question: Have you ever met a "Nick" like-person in your life? If so, what was your reaction to them?
Leave your thoughts in the comments below!
And as always, thank you for reading Venefica!