So bare with me on the first chapter. it gets better.
Normally Strange
1
School. It’s boring and old and I’m tiered of it. Tired of the constant schedule. Tired of the no-it-all teachers who thought they were better than everyone else because they had the privilege of telling us what to do. Tiered of the kids. Especially the kids. The sexist pigs the, the stuck up snobs, the Goths. They overplay everything. Their looks, their appearances, their attitudes to everything.
Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong species. I should have been born something less self-absorbed because if the human race was anything it was that. I was contemplating the possibilities of the animals I’d made in my head when someone kicked my chair.
I turned around to glare at Lisa when my name was called. Mrs. Ackerman had called my name before also, now that I thought back. I guess I’d tuned her out at the time. That or just ignored her. Yea, it was probably the second option. I hated Mrs. A with a passion. And let me tell you, the feelings were mutual. She despised me. I was the star pupil with an attitude. I refused to join any stupid geek clubs. And the cherry on top was that, I, an insignificant pest in her life, had corrected her when she’d made a mistake. In front of the principal. I thought it was hysterical. She, on the other hand had tried to get back at me ever since. How, you might ask? Well childish stuff really. She would try to embarrass me by catching me off guard. She’d go overboard on my punishment when she caught me doing something I shouldn’t. This wasn’t often anyways because I was just sneaky like that. I didn’t hide my feelings for her, and so she didn’t bother either.
I slowly turned back toward the front of the room with a scowl on my face that transformed into a bright smile a couple of seconds after we stared at each other.
“Yes, Mrs. Ackerman?” I asked politely. There were a giggles from the girls in the room and gaffs from the guys. I didn’t look at them or even show that I’d heard them at all.
“Could you please explain to me and the class what was so important that you were thinking that I had to call your name twice,” She didn’t bother to hide her scowl as she spoke. See? Anyone else and she would probably just raise her brows and carried on. But me I had to explain myself. Childish.
Without my smile faltering, I stood by my desk and caught everyone’s eyes as I spoke.
“Classmates and Mrs. Ackerman. I am dearly sorry for the inconvenience of my daydreaming, but I was just wondering what color I’m going to paint my nails tonight.”
I sat down with a hard thump and let my smile be replaced with the smugness I felt. This time it wasn’t just giggles, but outright laughter all over the room. Even though nobody except Lisa likes me, they knew I wouldn’t bother with even thinking about something so…girlish. My nails had never once been painted.
And of course you’re asking why someone as charming as me only had one friend. Well, I’ll give you hints. Its two words, and rhymes with scum. Yes, you guessed it. Samantha Sidney. She hates me more than Mrs. Ackerman. Longer too. Ever since third grade. It’s a short but pleasurable story, considering I hate her too. And this is how I gained my lifelong nemesis:
It was another recess I wasn’t going to play because I believed I was above such Childs play. Instead I was spending it reading. Laughter bubbled up behind me. I could tell who it was without turning around. Laughter as mean and taunting as that could only come from Samantha Sidney. I turned around and instant rage made my blood pound. Samantha and her friends were picking on the new girl Lisa. When the teacher had brought her in this morning I’d studied her closely. She was shy and didn’t talk to anyone. Her bright red hair was uncontrolled and her cheeks red as a tomato.
I set my book down with a thunk and headed toward the group. As I got up to the circle I pushed the two girls in front of me aside. In the center of the circle were Samantha and Lisa. Sam was in the middle of a rude remark you shouldn’t here any third grader say. She never finished it though because I’d grabbed her shoulder and spun her around so fast her arms flew out and she drew in a sharp gasp.
She regained her composer fast though. After a second her arms were crossed and she glowered at me steadily.
“What do you want?” She asked me. I just grinned.
“Me? I just wanted to give you something,” and with that I punched her in the face so fast that my hand was by my side again before anyone noticed what I’d done. Then blood was pouring from her nose and she was screaming. The teacher who had somehow missed everything was dutifully there in a second once the screaming started.
She asked who had done it and ten fingers were in my face. Of course I was told to go to the principal, and I did. But not before I turned to Lisa who was staring wide eyed at everything that was going on around her, and said, “See you later.”
*************************
I smiled. It was a pleasant memory. Not only because I had broken Samantha’s nose (I know. It fills me with pride when I think about it.) But because what had become of the event.
When I’d been allowed to come back to school, Lisa had approached me and I’d found that she wasn’t like the other kids. She didn’t want me to play. She didn’t want to talk about her new toys. She wanted to talk about me. She asked questions that no one else had ever bothered to ask. She was the closest person to me I’d ever met. It made her seem real somehow. She’d become my best and only friend.
Of course later on in about fifth grade she began to like things such as clothes, boys, and other things I had no interest in. And even though she liked that she never tried to make me like it. She didn’t like me any less because I didn’t like them either. She didn’t contemplate being friends with the girls who did like those things though. They offered many times. Making sure the point got across in their offer I wasn’t included. About seventh grade they stopped trying, the boys stopped talking to her, and it was just me and her. This is honestly how I liked it.
Brrrrrrrrr.
The sound of the bell ringing interrupted my train of thought. I gathered my books off of my desk and headed toward the door. Lisa took up her usual spot on my right. I smiled at her the smile I’d given Mrs. Ackerman and she laughed so hard she grabbed her stomach, and I smiled a genuine smile. The staring that was suddenly turned our way didn’t make her stop laughing, didn’t put a falter in my step. This wasn’t unusual for us.
Once we had made it to our lockers she had quieted a bit but only because she had been given looks from teachers that weren’t to nice.
“It was hilarious. At least I thought so, Mrs. Ackerman, not so much,” I looked over at her as I pulled a book out my locker.
“I could tell. I thought I’d have to kick you before you’d shut up,” I said it with affection and she put on a look of innocence that was as fake as Pamela Anderson’s boobs. That made me laugh. And then we were both laughing. We were still laughing as we got into her porch.
Another thing about Lisa. Her parents are like rich. Her dad’s a lawyer and her mom owns a wine factory. And they both came from “well off” families. Of course I didn’t know until I went over to her house in fourth grade. By the sixth grade everyone I n school new. You don’t see many mansions in this part of Louisiana. Oak Grove was a small town and it was very big to have rich people living anywhere near.
But Lisa is very modest person and no one would have known if word didn’t travel like it does.
We were on the road when I threw my bag in the back seat and slouched down so low I doubt anyone outside the car couldn’t see me. Lisa laughed at that to. She’s a very shy with anybody who’s not of immediate family or me. Years ago when I had learned that I had decided to be honored by the fact.
“What’s up with you?” she asked. I cast a wary glance at her way.
“I don’t want to be anywhere close to the sun.” I said. As an afterthought I added, “Actually I think I’m going to blow it up. Eternal night, how happy that would make me.”
“You and only you would enjoy that. Everyone else around here enjoys the sunlight. But I still have my theory of you being border-line diabetic.” I just looked at her. Other than my aunt and uncle Lisa was the only person who knew about my “condition.”
When I got in the sunlight I got sick. Like cramps and puke and migraines. It was uncomfortable if I was under the sun for just a second. But if a couple of minutes went by it wasn’t pretty. I’d been to the doctor many times about it and they could find nothing wrong. The best they could come up with was I was just sensitive to the rays.
I don’t remember ever being sick from another reason, but that reason was plenty enough. But of course with my stubbornness I was always sick. I refused to be subjected to special treatment so I played P.E. when we were outside. I ate outside because Lisa preferred it to sitting n the cafeteria.
So it was all my fought. I put myself through this torture. Well, I made a choice and now I have to deal with it. I decided not to let the sun ruin my day. I sat up.
“Lisa, tomorrow let’s go see a movie. Whatever you want. My treat.”
She looked me and asked, “You sure?”
“Absolutely,” I said as we stopped in front of my house. “See you then.” I called as I ran up the steps and into my house.
Aunt April was in the kitchen as usual. I wasn’t sure what she had cooking in the oven, but dang it smelled good. But that wasn’t unusual. Aunt April was a great cook. And she loved it all the smell of food, and the homey feel of the kitchen. They were some of her favorite things.
When she turned away from the oven and she saw me she smiled. Aunt April was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her white teeth were straight and her smile was brighter than the lights above us. Her blue eyes were always alive with light. Her blonde hair was pulled into a pony tail but strands were falling from the sides framing her face. Her lightly tanned face was flushed from the heat of the oven.
I loved Aunt April, but it made me self-conscious being around her. Normally I didn’t care what people think of me but she was one of three people I loved in the world. If her, Uncle Dan, or Lisa ever disapproved of me I didn’t know what I’d do.
“So how was your day honey?” she asked.
“Oh you know. Kids who barely know how to spell their name, kids who would make Einstein want to stop being so smart, know-it-all teachers, and me and Lisa.” I shrugged as I sat down in one of the wooden chairs around a table we didn’t use except for special occasion.
She chuckled but shook her head. Right then the door opened and Uncle Dan yelled, “Lucy I’m home.” He always does when he gets home. Uncle Dan was a handsome man. His brown hair had blonde streaks in it were he had spent to much time I the sun. He had green eyes that I thought were just beautiful and a lean but muscular form that altogether allowed him to be classified “hot.” Or so says Lisa.
He hung his coat up and then walked over and pulled Aunt April into a kiss that wasn’t meant for children’s eyes. Not because they were being nasty, but because it was so intimate.
I coughed and started rubbing the side if my neck after a couple of seconds. They broke apart and Uncle Dan laughed. Aunt April just looked…surprised.
“So what’s with all the lovey-dovey I’m so happy about?” I asked. Because he was happy about something. His eyes were alive with joy and Aunt April was acting like he’d never kissed her before.
“I, got promoted today,” he said with such smugness he looked like a five year old who just got the latest hot wheels collection, and he was bragging about it to his friends. I clapped my hands and he bent in a mock bow. Aunt April just looked more surprised, and my gut hurt I was laughing so hard, because her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were about an inch away from for face. Uncle Dan was laughing too. She regained her composure and said,
“Well. I was surprised is all.” When she didn’t stop laughing she pulled a spray bottle off the counter and sprayed us. She started laughing and Uncle Dan snatched the bottle from her hand and commenced plan “Drench Aunt April.”
When we were all wet we went upstairs to change clothes.
After dinner I went up to my room. I laid on my bed and thought of what had just happened. I thought about how if I’d lived with my parents I wouldn’t have had half the time I spent with Uncle Dan Aunt April. I wondered if I would be as close to them as I am now if I hadn’t grown up as their daughter. Sometimes I cry for them ,my parents. I cry for myself. It doesn’t matter anyway, I told myself. They died in the car wreck days after I was born. I used to think the only thing they ever brought me was pain. The pain of not having them, not knowing them. Sometimes I hated them for it.
But they brought me closer to Uncle Dan who is the only father I’ve ever known. Aunt April the only mother. I fell asleep with tears running down my cheeks not knowing if they were sad or happy.
My Stalking Past
2
I looked at the clock beside my bed. It was midnight. I had woken up to a sound. I don’t remember- wait. Not a sound, a voice, calling a name, my name! I opened my mouth then snapped it shut again. No! I was not about to say, “Is anybody there?” like those stupid girls in the movies.
I lay back down on my bed and was about to go back to sleep when a thought struck me. Literally. It was like someone dropped a thought into my mind while they were walking bye. But that couldn’t be. It was: “Go to the creek.” The creek was behind the house. We lived in a fairly secluded part of town surrounded by trees with the creek running through our back yard.
“I want to go to the creek.” There it was again. I didn’t want to the creek really, but my mind was telling me I did. And that got me. A mystery was all it got me to go out into the forest in my pajamas and tinny shoes in the middle of the night.
So I walked through the trees with hesitance in my every step, my neck prickling with the feeling of someone watching. I wanted to turn around. But my mind compelled me on. I stopped. Just to make sure that I could. As long as I was able to high tail it out of here I would keep going. But when I couldn’t…well I guess I was going to keep going either way.
I walked to the edge of the water and sat on the log that was against the water. The water was dark and gently lapping at my feet. When I was little I used to sit in this very spot and watch the sun set. The effect it had on the water had always drawn a gasp from me. The beauty of it was magnificent. I hadn’t been here in years. The memories washed over me and I sat reminiscing until I forgot why I had come in the first place.
That was until I heard the voice that had woken me. It said my name again. I stiffened, also noticed how beautiful it was. It was soft and graceful. I’d never heard anything like it. Still I refused to say the words that rose on my tongue. Instead I just stood up and turned toward the trees. On cue, out of the woods stepped two pieces of perfection. And I don’t say that because I’m boy crazy, far from it actually. I’ve never had a crush in my life.
The first one was the symbolism of day. He had blonde hair that fell over his eyebrows, but out of reach of his eyelashes. He was pale and lean and even standing still he looked graceful. He looked about thirty. His eyes were light green like Uncle Dan's, but were not as full of life. They were like emeralds. Hard but friendly which made me like him instantly even though I should have been scared.
I realized I wasn’t scared at all. There was something familiar about them. Something that went beyond familiarity and was more like a sense of the same. That freaked me out a bit.
If the first one resembled day the second one was definitely night. The other one was the same in a way that if you had two buildings built exactly the same but painted one gold and the other black. The same paleness, the same bodies build the same grace. This one was younger, around my age. But his hair was jet black, his eyes so brown they looked black. But all I could do was look at his eyes. The looked like rock also, but they were not at all friendly. They weren’t hostile but as of he had a wall around him that he was going to make sure I noticed. His gaze was steady as he looked back at me.
They stood there as if waiting for me to process them, to see if I would flee.
“Stephanie,” It was the first one who had called my name. Something changed in the dark one. He sort of crumpled, but only in his eyes. As if there were an internal battle going on behind them. He looked down as I looked at the other one.
I wasn’t going to say, “How do you know my name.” because I knew inn my gut they meant me no harm. So instead I asked, “Yes?” The two of them exchanged glances as if not expecting my cooperation.
“This is going to be hard to explain. And you won’t believe us. My mane is Sam. This is my son John. We were good friends with your parents before they were murdered.” I believed their names were Sam and John. I believed they were friends with my parents. I didn’t want to believe that my parents were murdered…but I did. It was the gut feeling I got at times. It had never served me wrong before. My gut was telling me this was what I had been waiting for all my life. It was telling me the gaps in stories I’d heard over and over were about to be filled. I was okay with all of that. What I wasn’t okay with was that my gut was telling me the murdered part wasn’t what they meant I wasn’t going to believe. That part was going to be much worse.
I just nodded, telling them to go on, but pleading with my eyes for them not to. All of the sudden I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to learn the truth. I wanted to stay ignorant.
Ignorance is bliss.
I knew instantly it was John’s voice. I looked at him sharply. He looked back at me, and tilted his head as if to say yes it was me. But I took a step back because he had not said it out loud but in my mind.
