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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1859991-Tainted-Wings-chapter1
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Contest · #1859991
NaNo2011 entry based on fallen angels, *uneditted* Please comment on how to improve
The bell had already gone in the old school, and the darkness of the large, Victorian dining hall was unhindered and illuminated only now by dim, flickering candles that gently hung from the dank ceiling as if on a thin thread. There were numerous grey-stone colonial arches in the hall, and each were decaying and crumbling almost silently. The silence of the large hall was unending, and was interrupted only by the large, oak-wood door within the reception closing with a loud thud, and a pair of seemingly spiked chunky heeled boots dragging across the stone hastily, as though their owner was in some rush. The dark woman –clad in a dark-purple corset-laced dress with a ruffled black waistcoat, sewn with immense detail – looked like a dark entity shrouded in malice and suffering with her protruding bones and skeletal form.
The darkness crept upwards and the dark woman seemed to dissolve into the shadows as she backed to the wall. When she was fully submerged in the lingering darkness, about a dozen students - each with their own variation of the mandatory dark purple and black uniform - came marching in almost silently; about half of them went up the stairs, but the others that remained spread about the hall and entered different rooms that lined the walls of the hall; but something wasn’t right - one girl remained in the hall, where the woman had disappeared. The woman no longer stood there – but her aura remained. In her place, the paler girl stood mutely, blending into the darkness of the room. She stood taller and more delicate than most, and wore a strapless, corseted dress; her head hung lightly on her pale neck that was covered by her glossy black hair.
Above the arches, a single upturned diamond and ruby crucifix hung elegantly, and, despite its glimmer, it added a profound gothic effect to the room.
After about an hour of silent waiting, the large wooden doors of the main office flung open quickly, and a tall boy clad in a perfect, unspoiled black and purple suit strolled in quietly; still, no sound came from within the hollow hall.
He turned to face the ruddy receptionist and simply nodded and she nodded back, they both kept a straight face. He looked away and walked into a dark hall; his scruffy black hair covered his left eye and his pure crystalline blue eyes seeped into the darkness brightly like two brightly lit fairy lights in the darkness.
When his eyes fully focused to the dark, he looked to the corner of the hall – at the pale girl who stood underneath a large, creaking beam. Both of their eyes were full of sadness and fear – and of pain. She stood upright when she saw him and shuffled quietly over the dark wooden floor towards him. The tall male embraced her in a tight hug as she looked lifeless as though she was some forsaken doll.
He released his hold of her and then the bell rung, expiring a seemingly endless silence that had flooded the room previously. Within the sea of students, the girl had vanished into another room, and the boy had made his way back to the receptionist who was filling out forms and asking him questions about certain things, that were hushed under a light veil of mystery.
Isabella gently walked out of the room. She was short and thinner than most the people in the school, but nobody gave her much trouble about her appearance. She had her black hair down in loose curls, which was an immense contrast to her snow-white face. Walking out of the hallway slowly, her high heels clicked against the stone floor rather loudly. After she had made her way through the hall and the reception, Isabella found herself on a lonely yard which consisted of a cement paving and a large cage-like fence.
Walking out of the gate and into a dark and narrow street, she saw the boy again, staring solemnly into the cold, iced-over water of the lake beyond the forest. His name was Sam, and he was the cool one, that nobody got close to, and nobody ever spoke to. Isabella, was the one exception. He had sat by her several times over the course of the year, and they had spoken – a lot – but it never got deeper than small talk, even though they had both tried to get into a deeper conversation with one another. But, he was the one person that everyone admired, whether she showed it or not, it was the truth. He was consistently correct on everything he attempted, and had that cool edge that made him more mysterious. He was generally quite amazing. Everyone wanted to be seen with him. But he kept himself to himself, and didn’t disturb anyone other than those he had to, and his sister – who was known to play petty pranks on people; she was rather the contrast of her brother who was remarkably mature. Isabella found herself glaring at him once again; he was, in fact, the pure visage of beauty in her eyes. He had that peculiar rough charm, and everyone wanted to either be with him, or actually be him. At the very least, they wanted to be with him. He had everything. Nobody ever saw him after school, and most people hardly saw him during the school day because he was so withdrawn and always found himself getting lost in the forests that surrounded the school, or in the solemn grave-yard that was within the school to commemorate the deceased. At any rate, everyone in the school of Darkwoods Academy worshipped him, and it was the strangest thing: people rarely idolized people within the school, it was generally a place for small groups where nobody was higher than others: but no, Sam was the one idol that everyone wanted to get in with – but it was only a matter of time before things began to change in Sam’s life that would take him far away from the school and far from the people who worshipped the boy they thought he was.
His gaze slowly shifted from the blue waters, and he turned and looked at her, his stern and cool look made her feel oddly like she wasn’t supposed to be there, be looking at him or even know his name. But that was something that added to his charm in her books. He smiled – she had never seen him smile before – and then he just… vanished. She didn’t see where he went or when he moved or the direction he was headed, but he was gone without the slightest warning or notice. Isabella sighed and turned around – right into Rose Potter, who was the girl he had been with in the hall. Rose was pretty but generally considered an outcast, which greatly contrasted her twin brother’s reputation. She was weird, threatening and enjoyed watching people suffer – a complete sadist. She played pranks on everybody and had earned herself the reputation of heartless bitch after only being at the school for only a little over five months with her brother. Some of the boys liked her though, and always tried to get friendly with her – but she knew their motives for it; only one guy had been lucky enough to get with her, and that had ended a short while after due to mysterious circumstances. They were always after one little thing which she wasn’t going to give to the likes of small-town idiots who she didn’t know, nor care to know.
“Stay away from us,” Rose said coldly, pushing past Isabella and walking out of the gate. Before she left, she turned her head back to Isabella. “You don’t know us.” She focused upon the vast sky that lay above them, before she started to walk hastily down the forlorn path that led deep into the forest.
Isabella made her way home in a dripping rain, wishing she had worn more than high-heels, shorts and a blouse – though her over-the-knee socks did keep her legs warm. She turned the key to the house and when the lock clicked, she pushed the door open to the cold, unlit kitchen; she was alone – again. I should be used to this, Isabella thought, sighing at the note and bowl of cold tomato soup on the counter. She threw her bag down to the slippery black-white linoleum floor and picked the slightly creased note up.
Won’t be home, I may not be back for the rest of the month, Sweetie.
Just ask the neighbours for anything that you need, I’ll be available on my mobile but I’m in Boston so it costs to call from home to America, Sweetie. You’ll be OK. Oh and I was back last night (you mustn’t have heard me) but you were asleep. I left money in the safe and passports etc as well. I’m sorry. –love Mom
Isabella was bored of her mum going away so much. Her mother never wanted a child, she had read in her Mum’s old diaries. She was only 17 when Isabella was born and her family despised her. Isabella’s grandmother had started up a trust for both Isabella’s mum and Isabella, but that was not a wise decision - with the money that just kept on increasing, her Mum kept going on holiday and brought into a business. She never saw Isabella often, and Isabella guessed her mother wanted it that way. Since her father had passed about a year ago, she had constantly been on her own, with the help of her friends and hired help. She was 26. And all alone. She had nobody, she had to fend for herself.
She had limited cash and her mother might return once a month to give a few hundred . Isabella lived a good enough life, but she didn’t know her Mother at all. All she knew was that her Mother had blonde hair and a deep, unhealthy tan – oh and she also knew that her Mother loved her holidays. This time was a business negotiation in Boston. She knew that it wasn’t, however, because her mother consistently lied about it – she was never being bored at lectures with business men, she was having fun right now. Like she knew all the other times she “had to go do something boring”, she was busy sipping cocktails with rich business men or extremely handsome men a little younger than her and most likely busy on the nights with them in a private hotel room. Isabella’s mum was no-good.
The night passed slowly, and Isabella spent most of the time on her computer, doing research and completing essays that had been set the previous day. Isabella looked at the time. 07:24 it said, she had been awake all night doing… nothing – another few hours of her meaningless existence just gone, wasted. At least it was a Saturday and not a weekday. She dragged herself up the freshly-carpeted stairs and fell onto her bed, then she remembered she had yet to change out of the still-damp clothing she had worn to school. She fumbled around for a few minutes throwing her clothing to the floor and slipping a comfortable pair of pyjamas on from her wardrobe, then she tossed herself onto the bed and fell into a light slumber which lasted for around three, maybe four hours.
The door was banging and Isabella didn’t want to wake up just yet; she opened her eyes and looked at the time - it was 11:48 and she hadn’t properly woken up yet. She clambered out of bed and down the stairs to see a dark figure in the frosted glass window in the door. She spent a few seconds locating the key which was on top of a book on the small table besides the door. She placed the key in the lock and turned it lazily, then pulled the door open. It was Sam.
“How do you know where I live?” She asked lazily, with a slight yawn, squinting her eyes at the brightness of the late morning sun.
“I know a great deal many things,” he replied. His voice was soft and not too deep, it was so soothing and mesmerizing. His voice was usually a lot quieter, and he never usually spoke, but today was different, she could tell. He placed a hand behind his head and gently rubbed at his hair nervously. “I’m here to apologize profusely for yesterday.”
“Oh, what are you sorry for?” she asked wearily, buttoning up her top.
“I rushed off yesterday; it looked as though you wanted to talk to me when we were outside of the school. Mind if I come in? It’s amazingly cold outside.” He spoke in proper English with a vast vocabulary, it was the strangest thing.
“Oh yeah, sorry, come in,” she said, moving to allow him into her house. He stood a lot taller than her, and smelled nice, he casually strolled into the living room. He donned purple skinny jeans, a black tee and an unzipped brown hoodie with a simple design.
She trailed into the living room a few minutes after hovering in the brightly-lit kitchen for a few more minutes. When she re-entered the room, she found Sam sitting on the sofa casually. “Uhm, do you want a drink?”
“Yeah, coffee would be nice, please,” Sam smiled, looking around the cluttered room.
“Sure.” Tottering off into the kitchen, she cursed loudly and dropped the kettle. Within a second, Sam was beside her; she laughed nervously at looking idiotic and then said she burned herself on the kettle.
To her utter dismay, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he smiled faintly and looked at her hand. “Does it hurt?”
“No, don’t worry; however I’m afraid drinks have been cancelled…” she said sighing. He smiled once again and held her fingers lightly and looked at where she had burned herself. It looked a little red, but was nothing too major.
“It’s ok, I don’t need a drink. If you want one I’ll make you one, just sit back down, OK?” he said, holding an arm on her shoulder and shooing her out of the kitchen. Three minutes later, he returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate – made just how she liked it. “It’s a bit hot, leave it to cool so you don’t burn yourself,” he said caringly. He was so kind-natured she thought as she closed her eyes and took a sip. He was right, it was piping hot. She put the mug back down. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
“Oh, nothing really… you just seemed a little distant, and I, personally, consider us friends, rather than acquaintances,” Isabella smiled nervously, knowing she sounded like a fumbling idiot.
He laughed. “You can say it,” he said, smiling widely, staring down at the pile of old, discarded magazines on the glass coffee table. She had the strangest feeling.
She looked up at him, and then looked back down, pressing her forehead into her palm. “And, what can I say, exactly?”
“You know what you want to say, however, I shall not force you to state what you truly feel if you do not wish to,” he said, lounging back. “We’ve never spoken outside of school, but I know essentially everything about you. Well…. so far I know everything. You think it’s odd, that’s all. Don’t worry, I wasn’t about to tell you to say you loved me because that most likely isn’t the case,” he laughed. She was stricken with joy that he didn’t know the harsh reality behind what she did actually think about him, but maybe he did and he was disguising it. But she did love him. She had always loved him; she had heard stories about him, too. He had only ever been romantically involved with one person and that person was Isabella’s friend who told her everything – literally. Then her friend vanished without a trace, her parents did too. She was assumed to have left the country because her family was deep in debt with a loan shark after her father gained a gambling issue about two years before the disappearance, but in actuality, the truth had been much darker, and Isabella knew that the truth would not be uncovered easily, and she had never even attempted to break the fine divide between truth, and the ideals that had been portrayed so effortlessly by the media.
“Oh, well then… I do think its odd but I wasn’t going to say it because it’s actually rather amazing; it isn’t as creepy as you’d like to think.” Then she regretted the whole sentence. He was going to leave. She knew it. He wasn’t going to talk to her again and her chances with him were shattered entirely; he would resume the same lonely life she had always led in her dismal existence. However, he did the opposite - instead, he stayed there, smiled and then sat next to Isabella – which she had not expected to occur.
“It isn’t creepy? That is a relief then!” He said jokingly; she laughed along for a moment, and then he looked at her and smiled. “I know something else you don’t want to say, but let’s leave it for another time,” he said. Then he rubbed her cheek and stood up. “I have to go, I am afraid.”
“Don’t go, please. You’ve only just got here and if you go then I’ll be alone again,” she admitted as she dropped her head a little, holding her forehead with her left palm. She didn’t want to be alone, but the worst person to be with was him because if she spent too much time with him she’d most likely admit her love and try to kiss him or something similarly stupid. On the other hand she could get to know him and that was the flipside, and that was good. She had mixed feelings about it now, but didn’t particularly want to send him mixed messages.
“I guess I can stay another five, perhaps ten minutes at the most, but I must leave you soon, I have to meet someone quite soon, but they will not arrive until late,” he said, sitting back down on the brown sofa beside Isabella.
They spent around five, quickly passing minutes just talking lazily and aimlessly about varying events that surrounded them and they occasionally spoke about Sam. Then they stumbled onto the topic of how she felt for him. She didn’t know how they got to that, but somehow they did – somehow she knew she was about to make a mistake or say something reckless. She didn’t admit that she loved him, but he told her that he knew she felt deeply for him. To avoid anything, she told him that he was simply assuming. He recognized his mistake immediately and attempted to rectify it by apologizing profusely, she forgave him A few moments later, she placed a hand on top of his and their gazes locked.
“Don’t be sorry,” Isabella smiled politely and then kissed him gently on the cheek – in an instant, she realized this could go one of two ways. He ended the kiss and smiled at her, almost laughing a little. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She said, backing away sharply and covering her mouth with both of her dainty hands.
“What for?” He asked, taking her hands off her mouth gently.
“You don’t mind?” Her eyes slightly widened as she stared at him in a little shock.
“No, of course not!” He said, laughing then looking at the clock. “But now I really have to go. I’m sorry, I might be back in a few hours if not then I’ll be busy or at home, bye Isabella,” he said, rushing out of the house, grabbing his hoodie on the way out and slamming the door behind him.
She threw herself back on the sofa, inhaling the toxic aroma that he had left behind him and then yawning; she was still rather tired from the lack of sleep and so she traipsed up the stairs to her bedroom which was ice cold due to the window being open.
Hearing a loud knock at the door, Isabella woke up. She instantly thought about Sam and assumed that he was back – a smile struck her face. She bounded quickly down the stairs to where to door was and she pulled it open, smiling. Then she saw it wasn’t Sam and her smile faded quickly. “What do you want?”
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