Black Magic

C H A P T E R O N E

Hiding has always been option number one. I've never really fitted in before. I find myself feeliung awkward and out of place, struggling to even form a sentence that makes sense. So all in all, it's better to just be by myself.

I lick my finger and turn the page. The book's old, the paper like parchment, crisp and fragile. The cover is so worn and faded that the title is impossible to dechiper.

The old English is a little tough to understand at times - sometimes I have to re-read and re-read a sentence, or even a paragraph, over and over again.

But the story itself is well worth the effort. The story of the beautiful princess and her dashing knight in shinning armour, willing to fend off every dangerous creature just to reach her and protect her. And unlike the sad pitiful truth of real life, this story has a happy, wonderful ending.

Just the thought of that far-away land, where everything is just perfect and wonderful - it's enough to fill me with such a longing that it's like a physical pain within my chest.

Maybe the boy's lockeroom might not seem like the best place to hide - but actually, it's perfect.

The sports teacher, Mr. Johnson, never bothers to lock the door between classes. Whilst Miss. Jefferson always keeps the girls lockeroom tightly sealed at all times. It's a little... ripe... but it's quiet and isolated.

Normally, I'd hide away in my room - but my roomate Shella is in there with her boyfriend - getting freaky with it. I don't think I could sit there whilst their making out - not only would I feel awkward... but I don't think they'd stop.

Second option would have been outside - but whilst I love the rain and find it oh-so-refreshing, my book does most certainly not.

I go to turn another page - when a sudden click causes my hear to stop entirely for a moment.

This is then followed by a grunt of pain and an incoherent snarl. I drop my book, my stomach clenching. No one should be coming in. I checked the timetable.

The doorhandle turns and I leap clumsily to my feet, dropping my book to the murky ground in my haste. I move instantly to the nearest locker, jumping into it and shuting it behind me - the stench is instantly overwhelming and makes me gag inwardly.

I watch through the slitted openings as a boy stumbles in, two following. One kicks him before he can regain his balance. He crumples, falling to the floor with a gasp of pain, his face scrunching up as he clutches his side.

I know all three boys.

The two are called Jonathan and Bryce. Both are in with the 'popular' crowed - what a freaking joke. They're both complete and utter morons.

Jonathan's the taller of the two - and built huge, with bulging muscles that must be thanks to steroids. His dark hair is short and swept stylishly upwards - and there's a cruel, nasty glint in his green eyes.

Bryce is a few inches shorter, well built - but not the same as Jonathan, much leaner and meaner. He's definitely the better looking of the two - if you go for that over-the-top-look-at-me kind of guy. Which is gross. His blonde hair is slightly wispy, a whitish blonde and his baby blue eyes tell lies of innocence.

The boy on the ground is Eric. He's nothing like the other two - he's roughly the same height as Bryce... but that's where their similarities end. He's skinny for one, almost undernourished. HIs skin is chalky and pale, dark smudges beneath his eyes as if he struggles with sleep.

His hair is a dark, scruffy mess - uncared for and his eyes... his eyes are unbelievable. Almost like ice, just a shade darker than the whitness surrounding it. Right now they're filled with fear and hatred, combined.

I don't know all that much about him, just that he's like me - a loner... at the bottom of the food chain, below all the other rejects.

Bryce bends down and grips him by the back of his hair, jerking his head upright. Eric glares at him helplessly, unable to even try to pull away.

"Listen worm, don't let me see you near Monica again - ever, understand?" He snaps.

"I don't even want to breathe near her - I'd probably get some kind of STD." Eric growls weakly, his fear obvious - his voice shakes and trembles.

Got to admire his boldness, despite his situation.

"You little shit!" Bryce snarls.

Both he and Jonathan begin to beat him - visciously. I can't look. I close my eyes tightly, my heart racing in my chest, my breathing erratic and fast. The sound of fist on flesh, oddly wet and dull, makes me flinch. The taunting and harsh words makes me feel sick to the core.

When I next look, the sounds have stopped and they're leaving, Eric a bloodied mess on the floor, groaning quietly. I stay where I am.

Once their gone, he tries to get up, moving forward to rest on his hands and knees, his body trembling feircely, breathing loud and ragged. Then he sits back on his heels, evidently struggling to calm his breathing and most likely racing heart.

His face is a sight for sure, bloody and already bruised. He presses a hand to his side and winces. He looks in such pain that I find my heart aching and wrenching in my chest.

His eyes flutter shut for just a mere second and then they narrow as they focus on something beneath the bench. He leans down and picks it up - bringing it closer to his face. I can't help a small gasp as I recognize my book.

Instantly, he drops the book, eyebrows raised as he looks around the room. He eyes up the lockers.

"Who's there?" He breathes weakly.

I don't reply, heart going into overdrive, my palms beginning to sweat. What do I do?

"Show yourself!" He almost barks, his voice just the slightest bit stronger.

Feeling as if I may throw up, I realise I have only one option - otherwise he might start opening the lockers. I take a deep breath and step out.