Labels

365 (32) A to Z April (20) Adrian (10) Anger (12) Australia (6) bad luck (15) blog (21) celebrations (6) chance (11) change (45) christmas (2) Dear Unknowing (6) Distant star (4) drabble (2) dreams (42) Emma (11) eternity (8) family (29) fate (10) fears (38) friends (51) guest post (3) guitar (9) happy (39) holidays (12) hurt (48) inovations (1) inspiration (5) internet (1) kill me now (2) life (148) Lit blog (1) loneliness (28) love (182) lyrics (3) Mondays (4) new year (5) ominous (17) ominousok (1) Peter Pan (1) Poetry (15) Prince Charming (3) promises (12) quotes (5) rain (5) random (16) recklessness (7) regret (7) remembrance (7) Romeo (1) sacrifice (5) silent (22) Spoken (2) Stranger (9) summer (4) truth (16) uncertainty (13) university (16) unrequited love (43) vlog (3) Winter (5) wish (30) writing (35)

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Sanctuary: Final

I watch from the window as students file through our gates that are usually only open on weekends. The Gentlemen’s school of Sports. Their red and black blazers stand out amongst our grey and blue. The football team should be arriving soon.

‘Miss Bernard, how is the book shelving going?’

Monsieur Lambert calls out from the entrance of the library. I took on the position of part-time library assistant partly for the extra cash and partly as a means to practise my telekinesis. Organising the library is so much easier when I don’t have to carry the books myself.

‘It’s going well. I’ll be done soon.’

‘Good then I can trust you to lock up the door?’

Monsieur Lambert materialises in front of me. A clone. He likes to send his clones on errands while he locks himself in his office studying genetic mutations. I smile at the clone while the World encyclopaedia volume 1 to 25 floats over his head to the top shelf.

‘Of course Monsieur Lambert. Have a good night.’

‘Good night Miss Bernard.’

The clone disappears with a poof, leaving me behind as always an odd feeling as though I was talking to myself.

‘You’re the only one in the library again?’

Noah leans on the corner of a desk. He’s wearing the jersey jacket he always wears before a match. The one I bought him last year when he joined the football team. He calls it his good luck charm.

‘I’m just finishing up. Why aren’t you down at the lockers getting ready?’

‘I just want a good luck hug before the game. I won’t see you until half-time.’

I smile at Noah. Sometimes, he’s like a child or a puppy. Always wanting to be spoiled. I levitate the last batch of books onto the shelf. Done. Noah grins as he opens his arms wide, welcoming me. I slide my arms around his neck and he hugs me tight. I sigh into his shoulder. He’s always warm like a thick blanket on a winter night.

Noah lets me go as we hear the squeak of the door opening. Someone is here. I glance at him in surprise. There shouldn’t be anyone. Monsieur Lambert’s clone should have put up the close sign. We hide behind the shelf and listen.

‘Are you sure no one is here in the library?’

‘Absolutely. Everyone’s down at the oval.’

‘The football game is probably the most exciting event for this school. Blanchefleur’s school for the gift. They’re all boring nerds.’

I grip Noah’s arm. Samuel? I recognise his voice. What’s going on? Why is he here? We hear struggling and a muffled strained voice. A fourth person.

‘Please let me go. The game will be starting soon.’

‘Awwww, its okay Pretty. We won’t be late for your precious game.’

‘Who should do her first?’

Shit. Isabelle. This does not sound good. An ugly feeling is bottling up from my stomach. I think I’m going to throw up. This cannot be happening. Noah holds me down. He whispers into my ear.

‘If things get worse, we’ll strike.’

I nod my head. Rule one: never use our gifts on those ungifted. Unless for self-defence. This situation clearly calls for our gifts. I nudge Noah. We need to get closer for a better look. We drop to the ground and crawl behind another shelf. I can see boys in red and black blazers surrounding a table. Isabelle is tied up, lying on the table, struggling to get up.

I watch in horror as the boys tear the buttons of her blouse and try to pull off her skirt. Samuel is standing by a shelf, laughing. Enjoying this disgusting scene. Isabelle’s cries rings in my ears. That’s it. No more.

‘Stop right there!’

‘Shit! Chloe? This isn't what it looks like.’

Samuel rushes over to me. He reaches for my arm. Bile clogs up my throat. I can’t believe him. Not what it looks like? It’s exactly how it looks like. I clench my fists. Anger fills my veins. I trusted him! I grab onto Samuel and knock him onto tables.

‘I trusted you! But how dare you hurt Isabelle!’

I glare at the other boys. I lift them into the air. I tighten my fists. The boys grasps their necks, trying to breathe through the invisible force that’s strangling them. Disgusting roaches. Lower than scum. I fling them onto the ceiling. And crash them to the ground. Ceiling. Ground. Ceiling. Ground.

‘Chloe, that’s enough!’

Noah holds onto me. I hear Isabelle crying from the table. Oh God. What did I do? I peek at the boys from Noah’s shoulder. Their bodies lie with limbs at twisted angles. Samuel crawls out from the crumble of tables. He looks at me scared.

‘What are you? You’re a monster. . .’

Noah releases me and leaps onto Samuel. I hear a loud crack as his fist breaks Samuel’s jaw. Noah points at me angrily.

‘Never ever call her a monster! You were the one trying to rape a defenceless girl!’

Noah cracks his knuckle and his neck. He smirks devilishly. Oh God. I know that grin. ‘If you ever step foot onto this school again… well I have to hurt you.’ Noah’s takes off his jacket. His voice deepens. His clothes rip as he transforms. Steel muscles. Metal encrusted body. His head hits the ceiling. He towers over the quivering Samuel.

‘Do I make myself clear?’
‘Very. . . clear.’

Noah transforms back and unties Isabelle. I cover her with my blazer as she heals the boys. She’s not a fighter but a healer that’s why she was vulnerable. Once their bones were regrettably healed, I transported the boys into Madame Blanchefleur’s office. She will wipe their memories.

We fetched Ivan to take Isabelle back to her room to rest. Noah and I stayed at the library. He sits with me as I cry into his chest. He pats my hair.

‘Shhhhh, you’re not a monster Chloe.’

I search Noah’s eyes. He smiles at me. He always looks at me with a gentle gaze. Never changing. He’s someone I can trust to always stay by my side. I bury my head into his warmth.

‘Really?’

Noah kisses me and squeezes me tight. The sound of the football game starting seeps through the windows as night finally comes.

‘Silly girl. If you’re a monster then we can be a pair of monsters together.’



No comments:

Related Posts with Thumbnails