Shadows of the World

Beautiful Pinpricks of Color.

"Clio." The voice was familiar, but my mind was too far away and distracted. I couldn't stop thinking about this new person, this Something Blanchard, whatever his name was. It was just too weird that I'd have a dream about him one night and then wake up to find out he exists. It was like deja vu actually existed, even though I knew I couldn't believe in something so ridiculous. So instead of answering the call, I looked away and sighed into the window. "Clio," I heard again, and it registered that the better option would be to answer, but I was done for the day with existing.

Then, all of a sudden, a face was near mine. It was the face of my history teacher, and I was looking right into his purple face. "Clio Pattinson, you have been daydreaming all class. I'm going to have to ask you to spend the rest of our time together with the principal." My face flushed at this and the rest of the glass snickered or made a noise under their breath. Mr. Robinson stood looking at me carefully as I picked up my things and shuffled out the door. I'd never been sent to the principal's office before...even though I'd definitely spaced off before. I'd always gotten away with things like daydreaming, but I guess I'd pushed it too far this time. I mean, honestly, I should have just answered when he'd said my name the first time. Then I probably wouldn't have made him so mad.

Embarrassed, I made my way to the principal's office, not looking forward to this meeting. He'd stare at me, dissapointed, and wonder if I needed any medical attention, should I be taking something? And I'd tell him I already was, I'd explain that I was anemic, which always made me tired, and maybe he'd understand, but I'd never actually had a conversation with him. I swallowed as I turned the corner to the front office. The secretary, a kindly older lady with fading blonde hair and crooked, yellow teeth, smiled at me broadly. "Good morning," she said and I almost groaned.

It really wasn't a good morning to me. I'd witnessed a fight, which always left a sort of sick, giddy sort of feeling that you'd been seeing something that you probably shouldn't have, and then there was the fact that one of those people was the current object of my fascination, and then the other, I'd had a dream about last night without even knowing the face of, and then, in my first class, in the first fifteen minutes, I'd been sent to the principal's office for the next hour. I wouldn't exactly call that a good morning. But I didn't feel the need to explain. Instead I just gave her a close lipped smile and said, "I was sent down to see Principal Wardwick?" I asked, my voice squeaking.

The secretary's face fell only in the slightest, but I knew she probably felt more dissapointed than that. I wasn't the type to be sent down here, and neither were any of my friends, and we were all clones of each other. I'm sure she figured this as a blemish to the good girls of this high school, but I decided I didn't really care. "Oh sure, well, he's got a couple kids in there right now, but you can sit on the bench and wait." I perked up at this. I bet it was Carson and the new boy, talking to the Principal, about the fight.

I nodded quickly and scooted on in to the office, sitting on the bench that was directly next to the Principal's office. The door was miracuously, opened just a tiny bit, as if someone had carelessly tried to close it and it hadn't clicked into place. I could hear the voices, and although they were muffled, I could still hear what they were saying.

"Now Carson, you're telling me that you and James used to be neighbors, so that automatically gives you a right to start a fight in our school gymnasium?" asked the Principal, as if he didn't believe a word that Carson was saying. I hadn't heard what Carson had said, but truth be told, if this was what he'd said, it wasn't a very good excuse.

I heard someone snort and figured it was Carson. "No. I never said that. We were neighbors. We never got along. I guess tension got too weird when we saw each other."

"Exactly. When we saw each other, it was like we just remembered all the times that we'd bullied each other back when we were younger." This voice, a new voice, a slightly rougher voice, obviously belonged to James. But it was weird. It was like they had suddenly become allies to get out of this. Okay, so that wasn't that weird. Maybe they just decided that they didn't want to get into too much trouble, so they figured if they just lied, they'd get out quickly.

I didn't think that the Principal was buying it. "Mmhmm," Mr. Wardwick said. Nope, he didn't believe it at all. "Now, how about you two boys actually tell me the truth?" he asked.

Silence. "This is the truth," said Carson finally, but it took him too long to say it.

"Yeah," James agreed. I sat there, feeling disconcerted. Sure, they might be just a couple of boys who'd gotten into a scrape and wanted to get out of quickly. But why didn' t I believe that? Probably because it had looked as if they were going to go to the death, or at least, that they were trying to beat each other to a bloody pulp. And then why were they trying to cover it up? What were they trying to hide? It couldn't be something too sinister...could it? My insides squirmed as I suddenly had a vision of the two of them as mass-murderers. Flushing, I tried my best to push that thought out. Too ridiculous. I really did have an overactive imagination.

I heard Mr. Wardwick sigh. "Well, fine then. If you're not going to tell me the truth, I'll give you boys a choice. I'm going to let you go now, and I'll give you until the end of the day to come back and tell me the truth. If you don't come back, I'm going to suspend you for a longer amount of time than I already am. So you can choose. You can be suspended for a day, or you can be suspended for five. I'll let you two think it over." Silence, then. I was waiting to see if the truth would just pop out, but it didn't. "Okay then. I'll see you before school ends."

With that, Mr. Wardwick opened the door and I quickly looked away and pretended that I hadn't been listening, at all. However, when I looked back at the door, as I figured someone who hadn't been paying attention and didn't care much would do, I saw both Carson and James come out, looking disgruntled. They both flicked their eyes to me briefly, but they didn't look as if it mattered too much to them that I had been listening. I didn't know whether this made me upset or not, just that they didn't even really notice me. It made me a little dissapointed that Carson didn't even at least think I was important enough to make eye contact with, especially since even when he was walking he was gorgeous.

Mr. Wardwick followed them out with a frusterated shake of his head and then looked at me. "Miss...Patterson, right?" he asked.

I smiled briefly and stood up. "Um, Pattinson. Clio Pattinson. I was uh, told to come down to your office. By my history teacher, Mr. Robinson." My voice was shaky and nervous, this was my first time actually getting in trouble. I really hoped that I wouldn't get a five day suspension. My parents would go absolutely ballistic.

Mr. Wardwick groaned and didn't even ask me into his office. "Just go back to class and tell him I gave you a detention." With that, he turned back into his office and shut his door, this time with a click. I stood, a little stunned before his door, wondering what I should do. I almost knocked to tell him that I was just going to wait here, and then I figured I'd ask if he was really serious. But I didn't knock, because I realized it would make me look like a complete idiot. He obviously didn't want to deal with me. I was supposed to go back to class and tell the teacher he'd given me a detention, even though I didn't think he actually had. I felt confused, but I figured that maybe, after Carson and James, he didn't want to deal with me.

So I left. I started walking in the direction of my classroom before I stopped. Mr. Robinson had told me go to the Principal's office for the rest of the class, and I had my stuff. Mr. Wardwick had told me to go back to class. The only person who cared about where I was right now was busy, and figured I was with the principal. I didn't have to back. I could just skip the rest of class and wander around school, maybe sit somewhere and doze off. It was a pretty nice day, I could even go outside. But I'd never skipped class before.

My guilty conscious battled for only the briefest of moments. It was just one class, I wouldn't be caught. I turned right where the hallway split and ended up at a door that led outside. With a sigh, I let the Indian-Summer sun beat warmly on my back and wondered where I should situate myself. I wandered around the school, until something kind of strange caught my eyes.

A hundred or more butterflies were flying up into the sky. Beautiful pinpricks of color. They'd come from around the corner that I was about to turn. I watched the butterflies flit and blinked. Suddenly, they were gone. Blinking again and again, trying to conjure them up, I realized that they were gone for good. My heartrate sped up and I turned the corner to see what was going on.

I caught eyes with Carson Knight, who was holding a handful of sandy dirt in his palm. James Blanchard was there as well, and it looked as if they'd been talking intently before I'd rushed in on them. James turned around and looked at me, too. The three of us stood staring, and Carson let the dirt in his hand fall to the ground with a a small swishing sound. I swallowed and blushed. "Sorry," I mumbled and turned back around, turning back around the corner. Well, it was obvious that James and Carson did know each other. I could only figure that they were trying to decide what lie to tell Mr. Wardwick when they went back. No one wanted to get five days suspension.

But it didn't answer the question about the butterflies. But maybe I'd just imagined them, maybe I'd just thought I'd saw a flock of a hundred butterflies rise up into the air, and then dissapear. What else could have happened, it couldn't have been Carson and James, letting out a cage of butterflies. That would have been so strange. I sighed and leaned against the school, once I was far enough away. I didn't even care that I couldn't eavesdrop on them. I didn't want to. This whole thing was so strange. I didn't want to know what was going on, I didn't want to know why they knew each other, why they'd wanted to hurt each other, why'd they'd lied together, why they were talking now. I didn't want to know what my dreams were telling me, what they were saying.

Dreams couldn't hold messages, they couldn't. Well, maybe they could help out with some subconscious problem, but they couldn't send some otherworldly message about two strange boys. I closed my eyes and thought of when I'd dreamed about pulling James through a grassy field. I felt in my chest that feeling of anticipation and almost fear that I'd felt. We had to get somewhere, and we had to get somewhere fast. And then when we'd been in my room but it had been distorted and I'd thought I'd seen so many horrible things. And then, why had I seen myself asleep? As if the whole dream had actually happened, like it was telling me that all of this was real. But what was real? James and Carson's secrets? What were their secrets? No, no. I'd already decided that I didn't want or need to know. It didn't matter.

I turned back to the sky where the butterflies had been. Or at least, where I'd thought they'd been. I closed my eyes and thought of Carson's green eyes in the midst of the darkness. I thought of his hand, and a light. I thought of his fingers entwined in mine and the soft light. His hand on my leg, pulling me so close to him. His hand on the back of my head. I'd been so happy. I'd felt it. It. The insurmountable it. The answers. All of it. I knew what had made me so happy. It was the fact that with him, everything had made sense. Like the reason I was alive to be like that. Like my happiness radiated from him. It was terrible and cruel. How could a dream be so sublime, and then make me so unhappy? Unfair, that's what it was.

James in obscure darkness, in green grass. Disconnection, fear, emptiness, loneliness. And then through it all, there it had been. There had been hope. Hope, in the face of darkness. With him, everything made sense. And that was the scariest part of all.