Dark Secret

Tick, tock, tick tock.

I ignored the occasion weird stares the others, including the teachers, would throw at me. I had got used to it after being stared like a zoo animal for a couple of hours. I supposed it was only expected. After all, I was never the type to pay attention to teachers…

And I wasn’t famous for friendly attitudes and cheery smiles.

But today wasn’t any other normal day. Today was the last day—the last day on surface, at least—though I sincerely hoped not.

Richard’s announcement of the journey to Downland felt like ages ago. To me, every second that had passed since then was another day. Was it because I wanted to cling onto the possibly last remaining days on the surface, or was it because it was too shocking for me? I did not know. Sometimes, I thought it was the end of the world, a last day of a normal teen. Perhaps I was exaggerating a bit…okay, a lot, but I was indeed worried. Extremely worried.

Leanna, Richy, Tyler never told me about their home world, Downland. Was it like hell that was described in bibles? Or was it just a simple medieval country, or modern, like mine?

‘…Miss Williams, can you answer questions 1-6?’ Mr. Pitt said.

I scanned the textbook quickly.

Question one. Simplify {[(a to the power of 5) +(b to the power of 5)-[(ab)to the power of 2], times (a+b)]to the power of -2}, times [(a-b)to the power of 3], times{[(a to the power of 2)+ab+(b to the power of 2)]to the power of 2}, times (a+b)to the power of 4…

I looked up from my textbook, and gave him a pleasant smile to mask my inner conflicts, which seemed to make him flinched. Iit was most people’s reaction too.

‘Of course, Mr. Pitt.’

Ew, Stop doing that!

Doing what? I stood up, striding to the blackboard, observing the seemingly difficult mathematic question as ‘inner me’ shrieked in respond.

You know what I mean. Your ridiculous syrup-covered voice! It’s making me sick! Heck, I feel like puking.She mock gagged.

I paused briefly at her comment. Maybe I was over doing it, maybe not. I sighed. To be frank, I was disgusted with my fake voice too. I was too anxious, a nervous wreck. Ever since Richard told me the fateful news, I couldn’t sleep right, eat right. I probably couldn’t breathe right either. The thought of visiting the Downland was simply too haunting, perhaps even more the Kenneth.

And I didn’t understand why.

Don’t bring him up. She growled. He’s worse the Downland.

How can you be so sure?

Like before, she refused to respond.

Just explain, dammit.

Silence.

Answer me!

Accidentally releasing my emotion, the white chalk gave off a loud screech due to the sudden pressure. I relaxed my hold on it and mutter an apology to Mr. Pitt, then continued writing.

Well?

…I can’t…

What do you mean by ‘you can’t?’ I snorted. Very un-ladylike, but whatever, screw the manners.

…yet. Now, be a good little girl, shut up, and pay attention on what you’re writing.

Great, now she wanted me to pay attention. Bulls. I nearly scowled, but I was able to avoid it by biting my lip instead. Sometimes, I couldn’t help to wonder did I have schizophrenia. Seriously.

I didn’t understand why she was always so touchy about Kenneth, as if she knew him, like he was her sworn enemy, her threat. Yet we’ve never met before the transform, so she, as well as I, couldn’t know him beforehand. Besides, I doubted that Kenneth was worse than the Downland, my gut feeling was acting up (again) at the mention of that supernatural place.

Let’s see, question six. If 7 (to the power of p-1)=3, and 7 (to the power of q+2)=16, find the value of 7 (to the power of p+q) and 7 (to the power of p-q). Well, that’s easy…

Shhhhh…

What the…?

I thought I heard some strange rustling noise when I was scribing down the answer. It sounded like someone, or something, was approaching. Fast. I turned my head to look behind, however, all I was able to see were the students’ saucer-sized eyes, though the cause was my accurate answers (or the screeching chalk), not because of the sounds, I knew.

They didn’t hear it. Odd. That must have been my imagination then.

Shhhhhh…

This time, I turned my head to the windows, yet I could only see mist and fog dancing in their unique rhythm, waving, flickering. Apparently, there wasn’t anything else. I shrugged off the feeling, even if it was unnerving.

Clang! Bang!

I did not know what had happened, all I knew was there was screams of fright, the windows had shattered into million pieces, the lights went out, and I was sitting on the ground with a large gash on my left knee, blood was flowing out from the wound freely. Everything was in a blur, too quick for me to comprehend; even the pain of my gash had not registered in my head fully. I could remember none of the details. However, the strange sound had ceased.

‘Charlotte!’

Leanna was by my sides instantaneously, crouching down next to me. She looked at me worriedly. Leanna examined my gash efficiently, like a professional nurse, also removing the tiny glass fragments from the minor wounds on me. I felt a little uneasy, because: A, she was fussing over me like I was a newborn baby, and B, her sharp fangs made me uneasy. They gave me the impression of she was going to suck my blood dry, like Vlad Dracula, the typical, old-school vampire. You know, the dark and scary one.

‘Luckily, the glasses didn’t damage your bone or any major vessel, or you’d be out cold right now,’ Leanna said, relief seemed to rush over her as the muscles on her face relaxed. ‘We should go home.’ She turned to Mr. Pitt. ‘Please excuse us, sir.’

‘Miss Wood, you can’t just…’ Mr. Pitt stopped in the middle of his sentence. I guessed Leanna must have given him her rare glare. I had seen it once, it was very intimidating.

‘C’mon.’ Leanna put my right arm over her shoulder, supporting me.

‘But…’ I tried to oppose. This was, after all, the last day of school for me. I didn’t want it to end so soon. She sent me a glare. Translation: Shut up and listen to me.

While I was limping my way to the door, I took a last look at the classroom. The room was a mess. The lone source of light was the sunbeam, window frames laid broken on the floor, glass pieces spread out randomly. Students were staring at me, muttering among themselves, probably about my wound and the accident. Then I noticed none of them were hurt, not a single bit. They were scared, obviously terrified by the unnatural event, but that was it.

Maybe it’s because I was the nearest one to the window. I made up an excuse, though it sounded pathetic to me and my ‘inner self’.

You’re a lousy lier. I bet a pre-school kid can lie better than you do.

I couldn’t agree more. The lie was, as she had stated, lousy. Moreover, Mr. Pitt was the one standing in front of the windows, not me. He merely got some scratches, nothing serious, such as my gash.

There could be only one reason—I was the target.