withering| 01
"Miss Damascus!"
Yet again, the ever so pleasant Ms Martha has pronounced my name wrong. It is Damascini, not Damascus and I've reminded this old crone more times than the greying hairs on her head and as it so clearly seems, some people just do not learn and never will bother even trying to learn. Dear old Martha over here is one of them.
"How many times has one told one not to gaze out of the window when one is speaking!"
'How many times have I told you it's Damascini not Damascus?'
The snarky and sarcastic mental reply unearthed itself within the masses of my mind.
"Sorry, Ms. It won't happen again."
I'm not sorry.
"Ms Damascus one should say Ms Martha!"
There are traits we all wish we didn't have. Such as maybe our eating habits, the volumes in which we talk, or our treacherous traits of snarky replies. At this moment of time, I really wondered how life would be like if maybe I hadn't had the last trait.
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise for me and my poor, young soul. Else I would probably still be suffering at the hands of the crusty wench known as my teacher.
Quite visibly, I rolled my annoyed eyes, and turned back to the window. Honest mistake, in my defence, but Ms Martha wasn't quite finished scolding me.
A high pitched gasp left the encasement of her wrinkly mouth, and this is the point, that I can confidently pinpoint, from where on my life only worsened.
"To the principals office with you!"
Thank the almighty for the fact that she isn't speaking like a wannabe royal anymore.
Little old lady Martha here, had this verbal kink with using the 'royal one' as she puts it.
It's where you wouldn't refer to yourself as me, myself, or I but instead would say 'one'.
Ew.
The clatter on my desk was mostly mine and consisted of my English exercise book, a copy of 'How To Kill A Mockingbird, my velvet book in which I write poems at times and my corduroy pencil case.
Ungracefully, I shoved the contents of the desk into my worn out leather bag and left the room, ignoring the laughs and cussed being thrown my way.
One caught my ear, though;
"Human."
The principals office was the most lavish part of the shabby school. The floor was marble, the cupboards of rich chestnut and 'Apple' computers sat in his secretary's side office.
It was all just a wast of money, really. Marble and chestnut don't go together. No matter how expensive they are, they also serve as proof that not all that glimmers is gold.
That doesn't really make sense in this context but eh, oh well.
Principal Oakman him self was an old man with greying hair and a beer belly. With teeth that resembled cheese puffs and smelt of tobacco he was quite obviously not a delightful person to be around.
"Uhm! Where do you think you're going?"
Ms Baines, the snarky secretary of our even snarkier principal reprimanded me.
"I-"
"Don't tell me you've been kicked out of class for the fifth time this month! It's only the fourth!"
She didn't even let me finish.
"How would you feel if I called up your father and let him know the acts of mischief his daughter has been getting up to!"
She smirked at my visibly pale and shivering form. If she called up Saul I'd be done for.
"Who's there, Carol?" Came the booming voice of the impatient principal.
"Go in!" She snarled, shoving me into the office and shutting the door behind me.
"Ah! Ms Damascus, is it? In trouble again are we?"
I was about to reply to the real life version of a gummy bear but on crack, but I was interrupted by the sound of his walkie talkie.
"Spotted shdkdjsj near the ajfnaosfdm parameter show winds wolves fhsoskde school site shfoenffi."
The static cut out most of what the person, presumably the caretaker, was saying but from what I could hear he was talking about wolves.
This area didn't have wolves, did it? I've never come across one yet but I have heard Saul waffle on about them. I've always dismissed them as pure waffle though, because let's be honest, a man who abuses the kids he's supposed to care for, is that really a reliable man?
The media here at Fierl Cliffs was strange to say the very least. These days something about wolves had been going on and was the latest craze, everyone was talking about it for reasons that I cannot fathom.
Principal Oakman paled, his skin yellower than a lemon.
"Uhm, Ms Damascus you can go home, you've been excused."
Is he drunk? He does realise that it is the middle of the school day?
"Are you sure? I mean I-"
"No arguments! Leave!"
With that he scurried out of the room, leaving me standing flabbergasted, what did he drink today?
"You're still here?" Ms Baines usually hardened eyes softened as they took in my confused form.
"Listen, Blue, you need to leave. Run and do not come back."
For the second time today, Ms Baines' wrinkling hands shoved me, but this time it was in the direction of the door and it wasn't a rough push like the one she gave me earlier, but rather an urging one.
I took my time in leaving, and it was when I heard screams and clattering of sharp objects that I ran. Where would I go?
Saul was probably at home by now, and Damien was most probably still in his own school.
Perhaps I could go to El's Diner? It's a small yet cozy diner and I work shifts there on weekends. They wouldn't mind me turning up at this time since they always need help more or less and this way, I'd be able to earn more money too.
El's Diner is not far from my school, quite near actually. Part of the reasons why they earned quite a lot was down to being at a close distance to a high school, which meant that teenagers would be spending the very few pocket monies they'd get left and right into El's Diner.
The neon sign was really not hard to spot, even if you were a million miles away you could see it as clear as day. But strangely today, there was a heavy, rusting padlock on the doors of the newly refurbished diner. And the normally bustling car park was empty and deserted.
Even though the diner had just recently been fixed, the heavy duty padlock on it was unmissable. The very effect of it on the door made the entire diner seem abandoned.
I slumped against the doors of the diner, feeling worthless.
"Ever since you were born my life has fallen to ruins. I should've aborted you."
"No one wants you. When you leave that door today make sure you don't come back."
"Blue? You're still here? Child haven't you heard, you need to run!" The heavily accented and broken English of El brought me back to a reality I never wanted.
"Do you need a ride home? It's dangerous to be out here, didn't your father tell you??"
In confusion, I nodded no, and El only gave me a more rushed warning yet one I couldn't get out of my mind;
"There are dangerous creatures out there! You must run, Blue, promise me you'll run to safety?!"
I whisper shouted a "Yes" across the deserted car park.
I watched as he drove away and his warnings finally registered themselves into my mind.
Everyone had been saying I needed to run. But, to where? What place did I have in this world that I could seek refuge in? Whose shoulder did I have to cry on?
Worthless- I could be worthless all day and lie around in these apparently dangerous times or I could pick myself up and be strong for Damien.
Damien was my adoptive brother and perhaps the only kind soul I knew. The more I thought about not moving from my place and letting the rabid dogs that are loose these days have me, the more I thought about Damien and how I couldn't fail him and his cheeky smile.
Damien has always been there for me. Everytime Saul hit or shouted at me, Damien would always be standing there with a box of Kleenex in his hands and a warm hug from his chubby form at the ready.
Selfish is not something I can become, today of all days, for Damiens life most probably depended on me and I'd be damned if I did not save that kid.
Back in the direction from where I had just come from, I sprinted, my rust coloured scrunchie freeing itself from my long chestnut hair.
'I quite liked that scrunchie.' I thought, but there simply isn't any time for me to be going back for a stupid scrunchie. Not when someone's life possibly depended on me and my lazy form.
The sound of explosions can either mess you up or urge you to run faster. For me it did neither. All I could fathom were the many warnings I had been given today and didn't pay any heed to.
A familiar pickup truck drove by- El.
"You're still out here!? Let me drive you home before it's too late child, I told you it's not safe-"
I began rushing over to El's car but I was too late in warning him. Too late in warning him about the 10 foot tall creature lurking behind his truck.
My words caught into my throat and I could only watch as it slammed into El, swiping it's petrifying paws across El's old chest, spraying blood all over; the ground, the car and even me.
I did the one thing I've ever known. Running. I ran back inside the school building, rushing to find a place to hide myself in. The fact that all the doors had been kicked down or burnt down indisputably did not help my case any further.
The beast was inside of the building with me. At this moment of time I only have two clear options; either run straight back out of the building, where I'd be in the open for him to spot from miles away even. Or I could make a dash up the stairs and hopefully manage to get to the terrace in time where I could lock myself.
Choosing the latter, I bounded up the stairs.
I was never a good runner. Maybe the cause behind that was my asthma. Either way, I have never been an active person. Walks were my type of thing, not running until sweat coats itself on every millimetre of your skin. Never running. And yet here I was, running like my life depended on it.
Ruins. The place was in complete and utter ruins. There was the distant sound of snarls, screams and shouts, near the reception a tree was on fire and broken glass scattered across the playground.
My heart dropped, was Damien safe? Was I too late? Without a second thought I ran into the building, kicking open any door within my sight. There was no sign of Damien.
Outside of the shattering building, a familiar scream rang. Damien.
If I was running fast before, I was now a leopard. All those failed gym lessons came to my mind, gym lessons where I'd be scrutinised and criticised for my slow running pace.
'Gosh look at her run!!'
'That's not what running is, toad.'
If only they could see me now, with feet that seemed like trampolines- pushing and bouncing me further into the crushing school building with each step and an inspiration like no other.
Distantly I could see a large military like truck being shoved full of children by what looked like army personnel. Did this mean Damien was safe? I ran upstairs to the terrace where I could get a better view and what I saw was nightmare material. Seriously it would make you shiver. It made me- an almost grown woman nearly pee my pants so good luck.
The sight of huge brown and black wolves attacking the military trucks, and the army soldiers in turn shooting the wolves. My mind and soul would be at peace if the wolves fell dead with each deathly bullet penetrating their horrifying forms. But here's the nightmarish part- nothing happened to them. It was as if they were strengthened by the bullets.
They can't hurt Damien.
But if they do...I'd be free. Damien was my sole anchor in this brutal world, the only thing worth living for and if these animals took that from me, then there'd be no reason for me to live.
No! How dare I think like that? Here I am with Damien's entire existence on the verge of extinction and yet I was plotting how I would die? This is a disgustingly new low- even for me.
The truck full of screaming kids and Damien was no longer within my view, instead it was being pulled into the edges of the school field. Out of my view. Out of my reach. Out of my hold.
"Scratch scratch scratch."
The eery sound of scratching on the metal terrace door sounded and I knew the origins instantly. It was the beast. It had finally caught up to me even after all my vigorous attempts at getting away.
The doors flew open, the left flying off of the terrace and landing with an ever so distant thud. Instantly any prior thoughts of me jumping off of the terrace depleted themselves.
I wasn't going to go down without a fight. Even if it kills me.
Oh who on gods green earth am I kidding? Even if I tried I couldn't win against even just a person of my own small frame! Let alone this gigantic beast.
My life flashed before my eyes when my brain had registered the beast coming closer.
Everything from Saul shouting at me and Damien becoming my adoptive little brother swirled within my mind as perhaps the last thoughts I'll ever have again.
There are many things you may assume in my postition. Those would in all likelihood entail either ones cause of death or register the fact that one was about to die.
'If Damien won't live, then neither will I.'
With that deathly thought I jumped. Straight out of the miseries of life and into whatever world awaited me next.
Or so I thought.
Such as me, in this moment for example. What I expected was to have my heart ripped out, in a similar fashion as El had his slowed heart torn from its premise. What I didn't expect was to be caught from my fall and hear words that gave me a sense of danger yet an also accompanying sense of delight.
Dangerous delight.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Trying to fall to my death.
Yet again, the ever so pleasant Ms Martha has pronounced my name wrong. It is Damascini, not Damascus and I've reminded this old crone more times than the greying hairs on her head and as it so clearly seems, some people just do not learn and never will bother even trying to learn. Dear old Martha over here is one of them.
"How many times has one told one not to gaze out of the window when one is speaking!"
'How many times have I told you it's Damascini not Damascus?'
The snarky and sarcastic mental reply unearthed itself within the masses of my mind.
"Sorry, Ms. It won't happen again."
I'm not sorry.
"Ms Damascus one should say Ms Martha!"
There are traits we all wish we didn't have. Such as maybe our eating habits, the volumes in which we talk, or our treacherous traits of snarky replies. At this moment of time, I really wondered how life would be like if maybe I hadn't had the last trait.
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise for me and my poor, young soul. Else I would probably still be suffering at the hands of the crusty wench known as my teacher.
Quite visibly, I rolled my annoyed eyes, and turned back to the window. Honest mistake, in my defence, but Ms Martha wasn't quite finished scolding me.
A high pitched gasp left the encasement of her wrinkly mouth, and this is the point, that I can confidently pinpoint, from where on my life only worsened.
"To the principals office with you!"
Thank the almighty for the fact that she isn't speaking like a wannabe royal anymore.
Little old lady Martha here, had this verbal kink with using the 'royal one' as she puts it.
It's where you wouldn't refer to yourself as me, myself, or I but instead would say 'one'.
Ew.
The clatter on my desk was mostly mine and consisted of my English exercise book, a copy of 'How To Kill A Mockingbird, my velvet book in which I write poems at times and my corduroy pencil case.
Ungracefully, I shoved the contents of the desk into my worn out leather bag and left the room, ignoring the laughs and cussed being thrown my way.
One caught my ear, though;
"Human."
The principals office was the most lavish part of the shabby school. The floor was marble, the cupboards of rich chestnut and 'Apple' computers sat in his secretary's side office.
It was all just a wast of money, really. Marble and chestnut don't go together. No matter how expensive they are, they also serve as proof that not all that glimmers is gold.
That doesn't really make sense in this context but eh, oh well.
Principal Oakman him self was an old man with greying hair and a beer belly. With teeth that resembled cheese puffs and smelt of tobacco he was quite obviously not a delightful person to be around.
"Uhm! Where do you think you're going?"
Ms Baines, the snarky secretary of our even snarkier principal reprimanded me.
"I-"
"Don't tell me you've been kicked out of class for the fifth time this month! It's only the fourth!"
She didn't even let me finish.
"How would you feel if I called up your father and let him know the acts of mischief his daughter has been getting up to!"
She smirked at my visibly pale and shivering form. If she called up Saul I'd be done for.
"Who's there, Carol?" Came the booming voice of the impatient principal.
"Go in!" She snarled, shoving me into the office and shutting the door behind me.
"Ah! Ms Damascus, is it? In trouble again are we?"
I was about to reply to the real life version of a gummy bear but on crack, but I was interrupted by the sound of his walkie talkie.
"Spotted shdkdjsj near the ajfnaosfdm parameter show winds wolves fhsoskde school site shfoenffi."
The static cut out most of what the person, presumably the caretaker, was saying but from what I could hear he was talking about wolves.
This area didn't have wolves, did it? I've never come across one yet but I have heard Saul waffle on about them. I've always dismissed them as pure waffle though, because let's be honest, a man who abuses the kids he's supposed to care for, is that really a reliable man?
The media here at Fierl Cliffs was strange to say the very least. These days something about wolves had been going on and was the latest craze, everyone was talking about it for reasons that I cannot fathom.
Principal Oakman paled, his skin yellower than a lemon.
"Uhm, Ms Damascus you can go home, you've been excused."
Is he drunk? He does realise that it is the middle of the school day?
"Are you sure? I mean I-"
"No arguments! Leave!"
With that he scurried out of the room, leaving me standing flabbergasted, what did he drink today?
"You're still here?" Ms Baines usually hardened eyes softened as they took in my confused form.
"Listen, Blue, you need to leave. Run and do not come back."
For the second time today, Ms Baines' wrinkling hands shoved me, but this time it was in the direction of the door and it wasn't a rough push like the one she gave me earlier, but rather an urging one.
I took my time in leaving, and it was when I heard screams and clattering of sharp objects that I ran. Where would I go?
Saul was probably at home by now, and Damien was most probably still in his own school.
Perhaps I could go to El's Diner? It's a small yet cozy diner and I work shifts there on weekends. They wouldn't mind me turning up at this time since they always need help more or less and this way, I'd be able to earn more money too.
El's Diner is not far from my school, quite near actually. Part of the reasons why they earned quite a lot was down to being at a close distance to a high school, which meant that teenagers would be spending the very few pocket monies they'd get left and right into El's Diner.
The neon sign was really not hard to spot, even if you were a million miles away you could see it as clear as day. But strangely today, there was a heavy, rusting padlock on the doors of the newly refurbished diner. And the normally bustling car park was empty and deserted.
Even though the diner had just recently been fixed, the heavy duty padlock on it was unmissable. The very effect of it on the door made the entire diner seem abandoned.
I slumped against the doors of the diner, feeling worthless.
"Ever since you were born my life has fallen to ruins. I should've aborted you."
"No one wants you. When you leave that door today make sure you don't come back."
"Blue? You're still here? Child haven't you heard, you need to run!" The heavily accented and broken English of El brought me back to a reality I never wanted.
"Do you need a ride home? It's dangerous to be out here, didn't your father tell you??"
In confusion, I nodded no, and El only gave me a more rushed warning yet one I couldn't get out of my mind;
"There are dangerous creatures out there! You must run, Blue, promise me you'll run to safety?!"
I whisper shouted a "Yes" across the deserted car park.
I watched as he drove away and his warnings finally registered themselves into my mind.
Everyone had been saying I needed to run. But, to where? What place did I have in this world that I could seek refuge in? Whose shoulder did I have to cry on?
Worthless- I could be worthless all day and lie around in these apparently dangerous times or I could pick myself up and be strong for Damien.
Damien was my adoptive brother and perhaps the only kind soul I knew. The more I thought about not moving from my place and letting the rabid dogs that are loose these days have me, the more I thought about Damien and how I couldn't fail him and his cheeky smile.
Damien has always been there for me. Everytime Saul hit or shouted at me, Damien would always be standing there with a box of Kleenex in his hands and a warm hug from his chubby form at the ready.
Selfish is not something I can become, today of all days, for Damiens life most probably depended on me and I'd be damned if I did not save that kid.
Back in the direction from where I had just come from, I sprinted, my rust coloured scrunchie freeing itself from my long chestnut hair.
'I quite liked that scrunchie.' I thought, but there simply isn't any time for me to be going back for a stupid scrunchie. Not when someone's life possibly depended on me and my lazy form.
The sound of explosions can either mess you up or urge you to run faster. For me it did neither. All I could fathom were the many warnings I had been given today and didn't pay any heed to.
A familiar pickup truck drove by- El.
"You're still out here!? Let me drive you home before it's too late child, I told you it's not safe-"
I began rushing over to El's car but I was too late in warning him. Too late in warning him about the 10 foot tall creature lurking behind his truck.
My words caught into my throat and I could only watch as it slammed into El, swiping it's petrifying paws across El's old chest, spraying blood all over; the ground, the car and even me.
I did the one thing I've ever known. Running. I ran back inside the school building, rushing to find a place to hide myself in. The fact that all the doors had been kicked down or burnt down indisputably did not help my case any further.
The beast was inside of the building with me. At this moment of time I only have two clear options; either run straight back out of the building, where I'd be in the open for him to spot from miles away even. Or I could make a dash up the stairs and hopefully manage to get to the terrace in time where I could lock myself.
Choosing the latter, I bounded up the stairs.
I was never a good runner. Maybe the cause behind that was my asthma. Either way, I have never been an active person. Walks were my type of thing, not running until sweat coats itself on every millimetre of your skin. Never running. And yet here I was, running like my life depended on it.
Ruins. The place was in complete and utter ruins. There was the distant sound of snarls, screams and shouts, near the reception a tree was on fire and broken glass scattered across the playground.
My heart dropped, was Damien safe? Was I too late? Without a second thought I ran into the building, kicking open any door within my sight. There was no sign of Damien.
Outside of the shattering building, a familiar scream rang. Damien.
If I was running fast before, I was now a leopard. All those failed gym lessons came to my mind, gym lessons where I'd be scrutinised and criticised for my slow running pace.
'Gosh look at her run!!'
'That's not what running is, toad.'
If only they could see me now, with feet that seemed like trampolines- pushing and bouncing me further into the crushing school building with each step and an inspiration like no other.
Distantly I could see a large military like truck being shoved full of children by what looked like army personnel. Did this mean Damien was safe? I ran upstairs to the terrace where I could get a better view and what I saw was nightmare material. Seriously it would make you shiver. It made me- an almost grown woman nearly pee my pants so good luck.
The sight of huge brown and black wolves attacking the military trucks, and the army soldiers in turn shooting the wolves. My mind and soul would be at peace if the wolves fell dead with each deathly bullet penetrating their horrifying forms. But here's the nightmarish part- nothing happened to them. It was as if they were strengthened by the bullets.
They can't hurt Damien.
But if they do...I'd be free. Damien was my sole anchor in this brutal world, the only thing worth living for and if these animals took that from me, then there'd be no reason for me to live.
No! How dare I think like that? Here I am with Damien's entire existence on the verge of extinction and yet I was plotting how I would die? This is a disgustingly new low- even for me.
The truck full of screaming kids and Damien was no longer within my view, instead it was being pulled into the edges of the school field. Out of my view. Out of my reach. Out of my hold.
"Scratch scratch scratch."
The eery sound of scratching on the metal terrace door sounded and I knew the origins instantly. It was the beast. It had finally caught up to me even after all my vigorous attempts at getting away.
The doors flew open, the left flying off of the terrace and landing with an ever so distant thud. Instantly any prior thoughts of me jumping off of the terrace depleted themselves.
I wasn't going to go down without a fight. Even if it kills me.
Oh who on gods green earth am I kidding? Even if I tried I couldn't win against even just a person of my own small frame! Let alone this gigantic beast.
My life flashed before my eyes when my brain had registered the beast coming closer.
Everything from Saul shouting at me and Damien becoming my adoptive little brother swirled within my mind as perhaps the last thoughts I'll ever have again.
There are many things you may assume in my postition. Those would in all likelihood entail either ones cause of death or register the fact that one was about to die.
'If Damien won't live, then neither will I.'
With that deathly thought I jumped. Straight out of the miseries of life and into whatever world awaited me next.
Or so I thought.
Such as me, in this moment for example. What I expected was to have my heart ripped out, in a similar fashion as El had his slowed heart torn from its premise. What I didn't expect was to be caught from my fall and hear words that gave me a sense of danger yet an also accompanying sense of delight.
Dangerous delight.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Trying to fall to my death.
