Chapter Three

Edited my little freaks!

Chapter Three

The next morning I woke up before my alarm clock, sweating and panting from the night’s before dream. Every morning was the same, wake up scared to death, sweating pellets, and screaming. Even though no one ever hear my screams since I was the only person sleeping on the third floor. Miles and mom sleep on the second floor because of my screaming.

Last night’s dreams were the same as always. Death, death, and more death. I was really getting sick of these dreams I’ve been having since I could remember.

Last night’s encounter with the ghost really shaking me up. I have never seen a ghost like that before, one with an odd resemblance to a demon. I forced myself to say it was just another part of my nightmare because no ghost has ever set foot in my house before. I don’t know why but it just never happens.

I brush it off and get up. It’s four in the morning and I don’t usually get up until five forty-five. I decided to take a cold shower to get all the sweat off my body and attempt to wake up.

An hour later I was in my room browsing the internet. I was so bored, so I just clicked on random websites. Then I came across this ad, it says “If you have trouble sleeping because of reoccurring nightmares, come to Adler Community College for a new test study on emotions and past experience and how they affect your dreams.” In bright bold letters flashing across the screen. Adler Community College was about a forty-five minute drive from here. I decide to give it a try, what do I got to lose? I click on the ad and register. The test study was one overnight stay on Friday and on Sunday and Tuesday was just going over there for a few hours. My first class will start tomorrow at five. Maybe they’ll fix my problem, even though I doubt that’s going to happen.

I get off my laptop and walk downstairs to the kitchen. No one was in there. I open the medicine cabinet and get out my anti-depressants. I was supposed to take two a day, one in the morning and one at night. I also doubt these pills will do anything to stop my dreams, but I’m up for anything except taking random drugs. I put the bottle back into the cabinet and shake my head.

I go back up stairs and its only five thirty. I hate waking up so early, there was nothing to do. I go to my bathroom and brushed my unruly hair. It was the color of midnight, a color that was rare in the family. Everyone else had light brown hair and I got black hair, someone must of screwed up in the gene pool. My hair stops to my knees and was bone straight. I never cut my hair; it was like my protection shield from people.

I decide to braid my hair so it wouldn’t get in my face. My skin was really pale and I hate that. I was so white I glow in the dark, well not really but you know what I mean.

I sigh; I was not ready for school mentally. Every day was the same; get death glares, get looked at disgustedly, get called names, and get pushed around. I don’t know why people hate me so much, I never did anything mean to them.

I always dreaded going to school and I always will. My life was literally a living hell.

***

I was getting in my car to go to school and so were mom and Miles. Miles didn’t ride to school with me because he didn’t want to be seen with me. No one wants to be seen with me. After years of my brother and my ex-friends telling me that, I gotten used to it. It hurt, but not as bad as it did before.

I left the house and arrive at school in less than fifteen minutes. I drove over the speed limit but who cares? I get out of my car and grab and backpack and walk fast into my school. I didn’t want the drama that the students here always want to start with me.

On my way to my locker people gave my there glares, there nicknames, and start to whisper like they always do every day. But I ignore them; I have better things to do then to let them destroy me.

I reach my locker and hastily get my books for my morning classes. In the corner of my eye I see something I never expect to see. I did a double take and hurt my neck in the process. I really hate doing that. But you never guess who I saw, it was Jesse.

That must have been why he looked so familiar to me, he goes to my school. I did a mental face palm. Of course, I remember now! He was one of the jocks, captain and quarterback of the football team. He was also insanely popular (no pun intended) and probably an absolute jerk-head.

It’s a good thing he didn’t notice me, he was too busy listening to the cheerleaders rant about useless things. He looks pretty bored, poor him. I took this opportunity to get out of there; I hope he doesn’t see me.

I put my books to cover my face and make a bee-line to my classroom. ‘Can’t see me, can’t see me, can’t see me.’ I say in my head.

“Hey you wait up!” I hear his voice say. Oh my god, he saw me. I ran faster into the classroom 107 and take my seat in the back, hoping he would give up. Please give up, please give up, please give up!

He barges in the classroom; even though there are only a few people here the teacher is at his desk.

“Hey Swift get out of here! This is not your classroom.” The teacher yells at him. For once in my life, I like Mr. Grey.

“But—“Jesse starts, but was interrupted by Mr. Grey.

“Get out now or detention for a week.” He says sternly.

Jesse groans and walks out of the classroom and defeat. The few people in the classroom start to snicker. I have never been so happy with Mr. Grey in my life.

I sigh in relief and bury my head in my arms. Ten minutes later almost everyone was in there seats and class was about to start. I was already bored so I got my sketch book out and started to draw.

I didn’t know what I was drawing, I never do. I just get this itch in my hand and my hand does all the work. I found out that drawing was a method of getting unwanted images out of my head. I would sketch whatever it is out and then burn it until it was nothing. It seemed to work, so I did it.

After my hand was satisfied of what it has drawn I look down at the paper. I let out a gasp and keep staring at. It was the ghost from last night. Or demon. It seems to be staring right at me. It’s horns curved a little at the end. Man this thing was scary as hell. But before I could put the drawing away someone walks into the classroom. He was tall and kind of muscular. He had black hair and blackish looking eyes. I can already tell he was going to be popular all ready, all the girls in my class already start to bat their eyes at him. I roll mine instead. He was kind of scary if you ask me.

“Hello, I’m new here. Is this class 107?” he asks in a British accent. Oh, god. I bet the girls are probably more in love with him.

“Ah, you must be Emery Field. Welcome to Ridge Public High School, Emery. I’m Mr. Grey and I’m your American History teacher.” Mr. Grey says. Emery smiles sheepishly to the class and to Mr. Grey.

“So you’ll be sitting next to Miss. Marx over there.” Mr. Grey says pointing to me. Did I hear right? British kid is sitting next to me? I groan and open my mouth to protest. But Mr. Grey cut my off.

“Save it Athena, that’s the only open seat in the classroom.” Mr. Grey said. Now, I was back to hating Mr. Grey again. Way to ruin the moment buddy.

Emery makes his way over to the desk on the left of me. He sits down and smiles at me. I just roll my eyes.

“Hi, I’m Emery.” He says and he puts his hand out in front of me. Well no shit, Sherlock. I ignore his hand and also the jealous glance the girls were giving me. I rolled my eyes at them. He retracts his hand knowing that I wasn’t going to shake it.

“Did you draw that?” He asks as Mr. Grey starts to ramble on about the Civil War. I realize he was talking about my sketch of the ghost/demon. I hastily put it away; no one ever was supposed to see my drawings.

“That’s none of your business.” I say not meeting his eyes.

“Well, it looks really good but the horns are not shape like that.” He said. What? I meet his eyes. They were not only black but also had a red tent to them.

“What?” I ask very confusedly. How does he know what the horns are shape like?

But all he does is smile wider. It was like an evil smile. He reminds me of the Grench when he came up with the idea to steal Christmas. He turns around and faces Mr. Grey.For the rest of class I was just wondering what he meant.

***

It was lunch time and it was the only thing Kyle and I have together. I was setting down at my normal table and Kyle was getting his lunch.

To my luck Emery had all his class with me and I was super pissed. Even though American History was the only class he sits next to me in, I was still mad. Something about Emery just makes me wanna punch random stuff. I have this weird feeling around him, like the kind of feeling you get when you step in a creepy house. Also he’s really annoying to.

I hear my name and I look up from my table. Well speak of the devil.

“Hey Athena! Do you mind if I sit here?” He asks with that annoying smile on his face.

“Yes I do mind, actually. So if you’ll be on your way…” I say not finishing the sentence.

“Please?”

“No” I say sternly.

“Hey Emery, sit over here. You don’t want to talk to her she’s a freak.” One of the jocks say that sat at another table.

“Yes, please Emery. I’m a freak, go sit with some sluty cheerleaders or something. They’ll enjoy your company more than me.” I say with an annoyed tone.

“But—“He starts. I wave my hand. “Go.”

He sighs and leaves. I do the happy dance in my head. I feel like I accomplished something big. I was just about to go back to day dreaming when I hear my name again. I look where the voice is coming from.

“I swear to god Emery—“I start but it was not Emery, it was Jesse. I got out of my seat and ran out of the Cafeteria and into the hallway.

I can’t face him, I don’t know why but I just can’t. He really got my on edge yesterday when he said he saw the man to. I didn’t believe him though.

I hear him yelling for me to come back. I ran out the side door where people eat lunch outside and hide behind a tree. I close my eyes; I hope he doesn’t find me.

“There you are! You are really hard to catch.” He said. I open my eyes and sigh in defeat. It’s clear that I can’t out run him; there is no way to escape. He has me trapped.

“What.” I say venomously. I really didn’t feel like talking.

“Athena, right?” I nod my head “well I just want to talk to you about yesterday.” He says kind of eagerly.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I had a break down because of something I day dreamed because I’m a freak. I’m crazy, that’s why I was at the mental hospital.” I say nonchalantly.

“You’re lying because I saw it to. I know what I saw and I know that you saw it to.” He says. Somewhere in me I feel a spark of hope. Could there actually be someone out there that is actually like me? No, there can’t be, I’m a one of a kind freak. This guy is probably lying so he can get me to trust him, the he can humiliate me in front of the entire school. The hope is gone.

“Yeah, sure. So what exactly did I see if you’re so certain that I’m lying?” I said.

“The man was middle aged and dressed in a hospital gown. His name was Charles. He was first sobbing in the corner with a nurse by his side. The nurse was dressed in 1940’s nurse outfit. The man got up, fell stabbed the nurse, went all crazy and he asks for forgiveness and then killed himself.” I gasp. He saw what I saw, but how? I didn’t believe, but why shouldn’t I. He got everything correct. Even the man’s name.

I narrow my eyes in disbelief. “How did you know?”

“I saw it with my own to eyes. I felt the depression to and I know you felt that. You fell out of your chair in pain.” He said. He was right, so right it was untrue.

Then I felt a wave of depression, it was just a small wave. That meant that there was a ghost somewhere, but not very close.

I look around until I find it. There was a women sitting on the side walk. She had a big puffy dress on that went all the way down to her feet. She looked like she was from the 1700’s. She had a big built hole in her chest that stains her dress with blood. She looks bored. I would be too if I was dead and all I could do was walk around.

“Okay, I might consider believing you if you answer one question.” I say to Jesse. “Go on.”

“What color is that lady’s hat?” I say then I point to the ghost. He looked where I was pointing.

“Blue.” He says and then turned back to me.

He was correct. The hope was back inside me, burning inside my chest.

“Did I pass?” He asks smiling. I roll my eyes at his cockiness.

“Maybe,” I sighed. “So why did you want to talk to me so bad?” I ask. He pauses for a minute to think.

“For years I have been seeing ghost, having nightmare, and having severe depression when they were close. I tried everything from the pills to therapy, but nothing ever works. I feel my sanity slowly slipping away from me. I want to stop it completely. I want to live a normal life, be happy, and have a family without the constant worry of breaking down. I’ve ran out of options and when I saw you at therapy, I had hope that there was actually someone like me. I want to find out how to stop this thing because I know now that I’m going have to do it myself. I know you’re going through the same thing as me, so I want you to help me to cure this curse.” He says in a rush. Maybe I could trust him; maybe we could go through this thing together.

“Are you going to humiliate me, are you going to try to make my life more of a living hell then it already is? Because if you are,” I step closer to him. “I will make sure you will regret it every single day of your life.” I said. It was an empty threat, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“I promise that I will not backstab you. I’m being truthful here; I want to go through this thing with my sanity still intacted.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed to be seen around me? Aren’t I going to be ruining you popularity status or something?”

“Honestly, I don’t care what people think of you. I know that people in this school have been giving you a hard time—“ I snort at his explanation.

“Giving me a hard time? Every day since seventh grade people have been calling me names, threating me, pushing me around, and treating me like I’m not even human. But I bet you don’t even know what that feels like, do you? You have always been Mr. Popular, always had friends when mine left me because I was a freak. People love you; people want to see me dead. Do you think I’m going to trust you when I just met you? If you do then you must not be thinking straight.” I said.

“I know what people do to you and I think that sick and wrong. I am not going to do that to you. I would rather keep my sanity then be ‘popular’. So here’s my number, call when you’re ready to figure this thing out.” He gave me a piece of paper. I took it and start to walk away.

“You’re just like me, you might not admit it yet, but you know it.” He says calling after me.