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The Boy With Fangs
The fire crackled vigorously as scarce warmth radiated in the dark room. Gusty winds blew against the window overlooking the eerie night. And with every second that passed, Sage Burke was only getting more and more ill. Her lips changed from a lively pink to a cold, spiritless dusty pink tint while her face grew pale. Her eyes blurred and swam hazily in their sockets. She was dying and she knew it. And there was nothing left to do to save her.
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Sitting on the neon-velvet stools of Rockin’ Donuts, I only had one thing dawdling through my mind. The end of my pen clicks in a consistent pattern as I sort through my thoughts. The smell of sweet donuts drift through the merry esque of the shop. Finally, the ideas roaming in my head are spilled onto the paper.
Vicious flames die out to dull embers, the burning air wafting through the dark night. The ashes crunch under my black boots, crisp, smoky air entering my nose. Besides the warm and cloudy air from the enduring fire, there is also an unearthly feeling nudging at my toes. Faint sounds of footsteps staggering on the gravel rang in my ears. The noise was unquestionably getting closer, and faster, until he was hovering right over me. I slowly turned around, and a creature with a pale complexion stood over me. His breath smelled of blood and his scarlet lips twisted into a malevolent smile, revealing two milky white teeth honed to form razor-sharp fangs. A desperate yelp stuck in my throat erupted into an ear-piercing cry. His fangs glowed thirstily and were about to penetrate through my neck when suddenly-
“Ahem,” I look up to find a boy around my age, standing along the other side of the counter. From the way his friends looked, I could tell they have been waiting for a long time.
“Sage!” My mother said angrily in a hushed whisper. Her eyes were sharp and warning as she carried bags of flour into the kitchen. She nudged her head toward the customers.
“ I- uh, sorry about that,” I said. I doubted they heard me though. The boy standing in the front of the group was tall; so tall that he hovered over the counter. His eyes radiated a gentle brown, his chin perfectly sculpted. He had a nice smile, too. Pearly white teeth gleaming in the light. He ran a hand through his curly dark-brown hair. I tried to smile back, though it only enhanced my dorkiness.
“ W-what can I get for you?” With every word, it only felt more and more humiliating. The boy’s friends were watching me like a hawk.
“I’ll get a Powdered-Jelly,” the boy replied. With everyone’s eyes on me, I felt nervous and terrified. My hands were trembling as i reached in the clear glass display to get his donut. Right then, my mother appeared from the kitchen.
“I think I will help you with these, honey,” she took the tongs out of my hand and gave me a slight shove to the kitchen. As I looked back, the boy’s friends had been laughing at me. They whispered things to one another while softly snickering. The boy however, kept a kind expression.
Back in the kitchen, I could hear my mom talking about me to the customers. There was a lot of loud talking and roaring laughter. This day was not going to get any better.
Sunlight protruded from the window, giving the room a joyful feel. I stumble to the drawer and pull out my outfit for the day: black floral tank top with jeans, a beige cardigan and dark brown ankle boots. I brushed my chestnut hair cascading down my back. I was determined to make today a good day.
As I stepped into the school, I immediately find my best friend, Alice. She smiled at me; her lips a perfect ruby-red cupid’s bow lips forming an angelic smile. Her flawless ash-brown hair swung behind her in a fishtail braid as she made her way towards me.
“Sage! What were you doing last night? I called you, like, fifty-thousand times yesterday! Why didn’t you answer?” Her dark brows furrowed in concern.
“I was-uh, sick!” I let out a convincing cough as we started off to class. Alice looked at me half-frustrated.
“Sage. No you weren’t,” her voice was sharp and demanding. We finally reached the entrance of our homeroom class. Our teacher, Mrs. Arnold was occupying herself by watering the row of potted plants sitting at her window. We took a seat at the back of the classroom, where no one ever sat. unaware of who was sitting in front of us, we continued to talk.
“Ok, fine. Yesterday at my parents’ donut shop, I saw a boy,” I began, “ he was actually-” Layla Kelly whips around with an unreadable expression. She raises one of her symmetrical arched eyebrows.
“Can you guys not talk so loud? You sound like a dying cow and I’m trying to focus on my work,” she snapped. Alice looked over Layla’s shoulder.
“Texting?” Alice asked, skeptically. Layla sassily flipped her straight platinum blonde hair and shot us a nasty glare. Her emerald green eyes were big and piercing, long black eyelashes fluttering with rage.
She got up and walked towards Mrs. Arnold. As she walked, her black suede lace-up heels made satisfying clinks, and her floral skirt billowed with every step. She flaunted her brand- new preppy white blazer that she wore outside of her ivory crop top . She was the definition of perfection. She was that one rich-girl that every boy had a massive crush on. But like most other schools, that’s just how it worked. No one ever had a crush on the straight-A dorks or the boring geeks like me.
“Alice Dawson and Sage Burke, would you please come here , please,” Mrs. Arnold called. Layla walked back with triumph all over her face. She flashed one of her vicious smiles. Though I despised her, I couldn’t help but envy her light bubblegum pink lips pulled to an evenly shaped evil smile.
“I do not want you two to sit by eachother anymore,” Mrs. Arnold started, “Ms. Dawson, you will be sitting in the front. And Sage, I’d like for you to take a seat next to Layla.” Alice looked at me in horror.
“That is so unfair! Layla can sit there texting all day and Mrs. Arnold wouldn’t even care! Ugh!” Alice marched her bag to the front seat and turned her back toward the wall. She mouthed something that I could not comprehend. Finally, she pulled out a pen and a sheet of notebook paper and scribbled something down. She passed it behind her to a boy fishing something out of his red sweatshirt. He nodded and passed it to a girl with cornrows, who was absentmindedly tapping her french nails on the wooden desk. She then handed it to me.
So what were u gonna tell me?
I furiously write on the paper. The boy he was kinda cute. Hawaiian maybe? I gave it to the girl in front of me, and soon, I got the note back. He was tall, with a nice face, and he seemed nice, too.
“OMG, Sage!” I turn to see Layla looking at me with mock friendliness, “I did not know you were gonna sit here! Are you passing notes?” Her fake kindness was actually convincing, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Mrs. Arnold. We’re friends right?” No, I thought. Why was she acting so weird?
“Uh, sure,” I muttered.
“Good.” Layla smiled, this time, she actually seemed nice, “You know what friends do? They tell their friend secrets.” I had no idea where she was going with this. Then her voice became stone-cold, “So give me the note.” I reluctantly handed her the note. She snatched it without blinking an eye. Her eyes roamed the paper; she seemed intrigued, “Interesting.”
I exchanged a nervous glance at Alice. It wasn’t that bad, considering the fact that the boy didn’t even go to Silver Springs High School. But, because my luck couldn’t have gotten any worse, class began.
And he walked in.
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This is going to be part of a short-story series. This is the first chapter.