Sequel: Cleave ›
Status: Complete
Corrupt Me
Micah
“Micah, it’s time to get up, sweetie. It’s your first day of school!” my mother called from the kitchen. The smell of freshly-made pancakes wafted throughout the house, and I immediately did as I was told and dragged myself out of my bed. I slowly made my way out my bedroom door and down the hall until I reached the kitchen, where my eyes found the rest of my family sitting at the table.
I mumbled a quick ‘hello’ to the general vicinity, as I slumped down in my usual seat next to Georgia.
She put her arm around my shoulders. “You excited about starting at Hillcrest today?” she asked, shaking me a little.
I sighed. “I guess…”
I was the only one in the family who would be starting at Hillcrest Christian College as a new student; my three sisters had been attending since they started high school. I, however, had been attending an all-boys school for practically my entire school career. My parents decided at the end of last year that I needed to get socialised (whatever the hell heck that’s supposed to mean). I actually think it’s because they were worried that I’ve never had a girlfriend and they hoped that, by going to a co-ed school, I’ll be able to find a nice, Christian (of course) girl and settle down and provide my parents with a few grandkids (after getting married, obviously because heaven forbid I make any children before I’m married! That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell). If it wasn't already obvious, my family is super religious.
“MJ? Micah? Hellooooo…”
“Huh?”
“You zoned out,” Georgia informed me. “We’re about to thank the Lord for our food.”
“Oh,” I replied, shutting my eyes and bowing my head.
“Dear Lord,” my father’s voice rang out over the table, “We thank you for this food that you have provided for us today and we pray that you will watch over us today as we head to school and work. We pray these things in Your name. Amen.”
I like it when my father prays. He actually gets to the point, unlike my mother who rambles on for a million years, thanking God for every flower that she saw in the neighbour’s yard and the stray dog that followed her part of the way home from work and every single child she came in contact with that day at school (she works at the local elementary school, teaching first grade) and every place our food for that meal came from and…well, you get the idea. My mother could easily spend her entire life praying.
I slowly ate my breakfast, savouring it. I love pancakes, especially with ice cream and fresh strawberries. My family thinks I’m weird for putting an extremely cold substance on a warm pancake, but I don’t care. It tastes good, so I’m going to continue eating my breakfast that way whether my family like it or not.
As soon as I put the last bit of pancake in my mouth (dribbling a little bit of ice cream down my chin while I was at it), my mother took my plate away and placed it in the sink.
“Oh, Micah, wipe your chin. And then go and get dressed. Your father and I will drop you and the girls off at school this morning, but usually you’ll be catching the bus, okay.”
“Yes, mom,” I sighed. I’d heard all these transport arrangements at least half a dozen times before.
I got to my feet and made my way back into my bedroom. I’d had a shower the night before (because for some reason, mom and dad don’t like it when my sisters and I have showers in the mornings), so I went straight to my closet. I scrutinized my clothes. My old school had uniforms, so I never had to worry about what I was going to wear to school, but Hillcrest was different. Students could wear whatever they wanted, as long as it wasn’t offensive or showed too much skin. I finally, after much deliberation, decided to wear my best jeans (a pair of light grey skinnies) and a plain, fairly tight-fitting black t-shirt. I quickly threw on my clothes before heading out of my bedroom and into the bathroom I shared with my sisters.
As I expected, the door was closed.
I knocked.
“What?” my eldest sister Elise’s voice rang out.
“I need to get in the bathroom. I gotta do my hair and clean my teeth and stuff…”
“Can’t you wait?” she called.
“But Elle, I have school today,” I whined. “You graduated last year; you don’t need to be ready this early…”
I heard her sigh heavily and the door unlocked and opened a couple of seconds later.
“Thanks, Elise. I won’t be long.”
“Eh, whatever. I’m going back to bed,” she said, walking towards her bedroom.
I shook my head at my sister’s weirdness as I stepped into the bathroom. I immediately turned on the hair straightener that was sitting on the counter, before grabbing my toothbrush and the toothpaste. I brushed my teeth thoroughly (because, as my mother reminds me almost every day, ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’), and, when I was finished, the hair straightener was ready to use. I carefully straightened my naturally black hair until sat perfectly on top of my head and as soon as I deemed myself satisfactory, I heard my mother calling my name, telling me that it was time to leave.
I ran back into my room to grab my backpack before joining my parents, Georgia and Sara (my younger sister) at the front door.
“Ready?” my father questioned, and I nodded nervously. “Alright. Out,” he said, pointing to the car. I trudged out the front door and got into the back of the station wagon, my sisters joining me a few seconds later.
Georgia sat next to me as always, and placed her arm around me. I rested my head on her shoulder as dad started the car and slowly backed down the driveway.
It was a fifteen minute car trip from my house to Hillcrest, but it felt like it went for fifteen seconds. Before I was truly ready to face a brand new school, my father had parked in the visitors’ carpark and turned to look at me. My mother did the same in the front passenger seat. I just looked awkwardly back at them until my mother started talking.
“Well, honey. This is it. Your first day at Hillcrest. I’m sure you’ll love it here, Georgie and Sara say that there are tonnes of nice people here; make some friends! Now, off with you! We’ll see you this afternoon.”
I rolled my eyes at my mother’s chirpiness, and got out of the car and began to walk towards the area where people were gathering. I turned to look back and saw that my car was already headed towards the school’s exit. I sighed, and turned, and was startled to discover a short, brown-haired girl standing right in front of me, grinning up at me.
“Hello! My name’s Isabelle. You can call me Izzy. You must be new. What’s your name? You look about my age. How old are you?” she said, flashing me another smile.
“Uh… hi. I’m Micah. And I’m sixteen,” I mumbled.
“Oh, same with me! We must be in the same grade. What brings you to Hillcrest?”
“I used to go to the all-boys school across town, but my parents decided I should get ‘socialised’. Whatever that means,” I said, speaking up a little.
“You’ll get socialised alright. You’re really cute,” she informed me, with yet another smile. I blushed and mumbled a ‘thank you’. I wasn’t really used to complements. “No problem. Now, how about I introduce you to my friends? I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” And, without waiting for an answer, Isabelle grabbed my hand and dragged me over to two girls and a boy who were sitting on one of the many benches and immersed in conversation. They stopped talking when Isabelle and I arrived at their side, and they all looked up to stare at me, making me feel sufficiently awkward.
“Guys, this is Micah. He’s new,” Isabelle told them. “So, Micah. This is Lisa,” she pointed to the blonde girl who was wearing a cross necklace and had a textbook lying open on her lap. Lisa nodded shyly and gave me a slight smile, before Isabelle turned my attention to the extremely pretty girl sitting next to Lisa. Her white teeth sparkled as she smiled when she noticed my eyes on her. They seemed so much whiter against her dark skin. “And this is Portia… and this is my brother, Lachlan,” Isabelle finished, pointing at the boy with shaggy brown hair and a nose ring.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said to them, and they replied with varying ways of saying ‘nice to meet you, too' just as the bell signalling the start of school rang loudly, making me jump. Isabelle and her friends laughed a little, before Isabelle turned to me.
“What do you have first? Do you have your timetable?”
“Oh yeah,” I replied, digging around in my bag before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Here,” I said, handing it to her. Her eyes ran over it for a few seconds before she grinned up at me.
“You’re in all my classes except…” she looked down again. “Biology. This is awesome! And by the way, we have drama first. Be prepared to talk a bit about yourself. Our teacher loves embarrassing new students,” Isabelle informed me, making me groan loudly. She laughed and grabbed my hand and began pulling me until we ended up at a classroom with D3 written on the door. As soon as I set foot in the classroom, I was practically pounced on by a tall 30-something-year-old, dark-haired man wearing what looked to be an outfit from Shakespearean times.
“Ah, you must be Micah, yes? I’m Mr Porter, welcome to our wonderful drama class!” the man who I now knew to be Mr Porter said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “Now, I think everyone’s here, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”
My eyes widened, and sought Isabelle, who looked at me sympathetically, before heading over to her seat, making sure that there was a spare next to her for me.
“Um. I’m Micah Gerard. I’m sixteen. I came here from an all-boys school across town. And I don’t have anything else to say so… can I go sit now?” I said, directing that last sentence at the teacher, who nodded before standing up and addressing the class.
“So, I hope you’ll all be kind to Micah and help him whenever he needs help, yes?” From the corner of my eye, I saw people nodding in agreement.
Mr Porter started up the lesson. Apparently there was a reason for his strange clothing ensemble. We were going to be studying the play of ‘Romeo and Juliet’, even acting it out in class to gain a better understanding. While Mr Porter continued talking about the play, telling us about Shakespearean times and all that stuff, I could feel eyes on me. It made me uncomfortable. I looked around the room in hopes to find whoever was staring, but everyone that I laid eyes on was listening intently to the teacher up the front.
Well…that was until I looked directly behind me. Sitting there, not even bothering to avert his eyes was a boy with longish dark brown hair and intense grey eyes. I could see a tattoo peeking out of the sleeve of his t-shirt and there was a smirk plastered on his features. Everything about this boy screamed ‘TROUBLEMAKER’ and ‘DANGEROUS’, and I unintentionally wondered what my parents would say if I introduced this boy, whose name I didn’t even know, as a friend.
“Micah?” I heard from next to me. Isabelle was wondering what I was doing.
Just as I was about to turn back around to face the front, the boy’s smirk turned into a full-blown evil smile and he sent an exaggerated wink my way. My face burned as I whipped my head and shoulders around, to discover Isabelle looking at me strangely, questioningly. I grimaced, and looked down at my desk, ready to start my work, and try to ignore the stare of the boy behind me.
I mumbled a quick ‘hello’ to the general vicinity, as I slumped down in my usual seat next to Georgia.
She put her arm around my shoulders. “You excited about starting at Hillcrest today?” she asked, shaking me a little.
I sighed. “I guess…”
I was the only one in the family who would be starting at Hillcrest Christian College as a new student; my three sisters had been attending since they started high school. I, however, had been attending an all-boys school for practically my entire school career. My parents decided at the end of last year that I needed to get socialised (whatever the hell heck that’s supposed to mean). I actually think it’s because they were worried that I’ve never had a girlfriend and they hoped that, by going to a co-ed school, I’ll be able to find a nice, Christian (of course) girl and settle down and provide my parents with a few grandkids (after getting married, obviously because heaven forbid I make any children before I’m married! That was sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell). If it wasn't already obvious, my family is super religious.
“MJ? Micah? Hellooooo…”
“Huh?”
“You zoned out,” Georgia informed me. “We’re about to thank the Lord for our food.”
“Oh,” I replied, shutting my eyes and bowing my head.
“Dear Lord,” my father’s voice rang out over the table, “We thank you for this food that you have provided for us today and we pray that you will watch over us today as we head to school and work. We pray these things in Your name. Amen.”
I like it when my father prays. He actually gets to the point, unlike my mother who rambles on for a million years, thanking God for every flower that she saw in the neighbour’s yard and the stray dog that followed her part of the way home from work and every single child she came in contact with that day at school (she works at the local elementary school, teaching first grade) and every place our food for that meal came from and…well, you get the idea. My mother could easily spend her entire life praying.
I slowly ate my breakfast, savouring it. I love pancakes, especially with ice cream and fresh strawberries. My family thinks I’m weird for putting an extremely cold substance on a warm pancake, but I don’t care. It tastes good, so I’m going to continue eating my breakfast that way whether my family like it or not.
As soon as I put the last bit of pancake in my mouth (dribbling a little bit of ice cream down my chin while I was at it), my mother took my plate away and placed it in the sink.
“Oh, Micah, wipe your chin. And then go and get dressed. Your father and I will drop you and the girls off at school this morning, but usually you’ll be catching the bus, okay.”
“Yes, mom,” I sighed. I’d heard all these transport arrangements at least half a dozen times before.
I got to my feet and made my way back into my bedroom. I’d had a shower the night before (because for some reason, mom and dad don’t like it when my sisters and I have showers in the mornings), so I went straight to my closet. I scrutinized my clothes. My old school had uniforms, so I never had to worry about what I was going to wear to school, but Hillcrest was different. Students could wear whatever they wanted, as long as it wasn’t offensive or showed too much skin. I finally, after much deliberation, decided to wear my best jeans (a pair of light grey skinnies) and a plain, fairly tight-fitting black t-shirt. I quickly threw on my clothes before heading out of my bedroom and into the bathroom I shared with my sisters.
As I expected, the door was closed.
I knocked.
“What?” my eldest sister Elise’s voice rang out.
“I need to get in the bathroom. I gotta do my hair and clean my teeth and stuff…”
“Can’t you wait?” she called.
“But Elle, I have school today,” I whined. “You graduated last year; you don’t need to be ready this early…”
I heard her sigh heavily and the door unlocked and opened a couple of seconds later.
“Thanks, Elise. I won’t be long.”
“Eh, whatever. I’m going back to bed,” she said, walking towards her bedroom.
I shook my head at my sister’s weirdness as I stepped into the bathroom. I immediately turned on the hair straightener that was sitting on the counter, before grabbing my toothbrush and the toothpaste. I brushed my teeth thoroughly (because, as my mother reminds me almost every day, ‘cleanliness is next to godliness’), and, when I was finished, the hair straightener was ready to use. I carefully straightened my naturally black hair until sat perfectly on top of my head and as soon as I deemed myself satisfactory, I heard my mother calling my name, telling me that it was time to leave.
I ran back into my room to grab my backpack before joining my parents, Georgia and Sara (my younger sister) at the front door.
“Ready?” my father questioned, and I nodded nervously. “Alright. Out,” he said, pointing to the car. I trudged out the front door and got into the back of the station wagon, my sisters joining me a few seconds later.
Georgia sat next to me as always, and placed her arm around me. I rested my head on her shoulder as dad started the car and slowly backed down the driveway.
It was a fifteen minute car trip from my house to Hillcrest, but it felt like it went for fifteen seconds. Before I was truly ready to face a brand new school, my father had parked in the visitors’ carpark and turned to look at me. My mother did the same in the front passenger seat. I just looked awkwardly back at them until my mother started talking.
“Well, honey. This is it. Your first day at Hillcrest. I’m sure you’ll love it here, Georgie and Sara say that there are tonnes of nice people here; make some friends! Now, off with you! We’ll see you this afternoon.”
I rolled my eyes at my mother’s chirpiness, and got out of the car and began to walk towards the area where people were gathering. I turned to look back and saw that my car was already headed towards the school’s exit. I sighed, and turned, and was startled to discover a short, brown-haired girl standing right in front of me, grinning up at me.
“Hello! My name’s Isabelle. You can call me Izzy. You must be new. What’s your name? You look about my age. How old are you?” she said, flashing me another smile.
“Uh… hi. I’m Micah. And I’m sixteen,” I mumbled.
“Oh, same with me! We must be in the same grade. What brings you to Hillcrest?”
“I used to go to the all-boys school across town, but my parents decided I should get ‘socialised’. Whatever that means,” I said, speaking up a little.
“You’ll get socialised alright. You’re really cute,” she informed me, with yet another smile. I blushed and mumbled a ‘thank you’. I wasn’t really used to complements. “No problem. Now, how about I introduce you to my friends? I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” And, without waiting for an answer, Isabelle grabbed my hand and dragged me over to two girls and a boy who were sitting on one of the many benches and immersed in conversation. They stopped talking when Isabelle and I arrived at their side, and they all looked up to stare at me, making me feel sufficiently awkward.
“Guys, this is Micah. He’s new,” Isabelle told them. “So, Micah. This is Lisa,” she pointed to the blonde girl who was wearing a cross necklace and had a textbook lying open on her lap. Lisa nodded shyly and gave me a slight smile, before Isabelle turned my attention to the extremely pretty girl sitting next to Lisa. Her white teeth sparkled as she smiled when she noticed my eyes on her. They seemed so much whiter against her dark skin. “And this is Portia… and this is my brother, Lachlan,” Isabelle finished, pointing at the boy with shaggy brown hair and a nose ring.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said to them, and they replied with varying ways of saying ‘nice to meet you, too' just as the bell signalling the start of school rang loudly, making me jump. Isabelle and her friends laughed a little, before Isabelle turned to me.
“What do you have first? Do you have your timetable?”
“Oh yeah,” I replied, digging around in my bag before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Here,” I said, handing it to her. Her eyes ran over it for a few seconds before she grinned up at me.
“You’re in all my classes except…” she looked down again. “Biology. This is awesome! And by the way, we have drama first. Be prepared to talk a bit about yourself. Our teacher loves embarrassing new students,” Isabelle informed me, making me groan loudly. She laughed and grabbed my hand and began pulling me until we ended up at a classroom with D3 written on the door. As soon as I set foot in the classroom, I was practically pounced on by a tall 30-something-year-old, dark-haired man wearing what looked to be an outfit from Shakespearean times.
“Ah, you must be Micah, yes? I’m Mr Porter, welcome to our wonderful drama class!” the man who I now knew to be Mr Porter said, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “Now, I think everyone’s here, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”
My eyes widened, and sought Isabelle, who looked at me sympathetically, before heading over to her seat, making sure that there was a spare next to her for me.
“Um. I’m Micah Gerard. I’m sixteen. I came here from an all-boys school across town. And I don’t have anything else to say so… can I go sit now?” I said, directing that last sentence at the teacher, who nodded before standing up and addressing the class.
“So, I hope you’ll all be kind to Micah and help him whenever he needs help, yes?” From the corner of my eye, I saw people nodding in agreement.
Mr Porter started up the lesson. Apparently there was a reason for his strange clothing ensemble. We were going to be studying the play of ‘Romeo and Juliet’, even acting it out in class to gain a better understanding. While Mr Porter continued talking about the play, telling us about Shakespearean times and all that stuff, I could feel eyes on me. It made me uncomfortable. I looked around the room in hopes to find whoever was staring, but everyone that I laid eyes on was listening intently to the teacher up the front.
Well…that was until I looked directly behind me. Sitting there, not even bothering to avert his eyes was a boy with longish dark brown hair and intense grey eyes. I could see a tattoo peeking out of the sleeve of his t-shirt and there was a smirk plastered on his features. Everything about this boy screamed ‘TROUBLEMAKER’ and ‘DANGEROUS’, and I unintentionally wondered what my parents would say if I introduced this boy, whose name I didn’t even know, as a friend.
“Micah?” I heard from next to me. Isabelle was wondering what I was doing.
Just as I was about to turn back around to face the front, the boy’s smirk turned into a full-blown evil smile and he sent an exaggerated wink my way. My face burned as I whipped my head and shoulders around, to discover Isabelle looking at me strangely, questioningly. I grimaced, and looked down at my desk, ready to start my work, and try to ignore the stare of the boy behind me.
