CHAPTER 1
"But I didn't do it this time, I swear!"
"I don't want more explanations, Mr. Wing. You were the only person at the gym when the incident occurred. Therefore, you are the only suspect." Mr. Baxton irritatingly prosecutes me. I still try to reason but Mr. Baxton finished his judgment.
"No more, ok?! You're in detention, mister!" I don't want to answer back since this will lead me to nothing. So I just take the punishment and leave.
"Those damn nerds with their fucking Liquid Nitrogen experiment." I quietly cursed while walking away from Mr. Baxton but it seems he have heard it. So he gave me another detention for my foul language. I do have this feeling that most professors that I met, especially Mr. Baxton, have a deep grudge on me. The question is, why me? Yes, I do look hideous to my perspective; and I do always get into troubles, but I am not the only student causing some havoc in this school. I just really wish someone will pop-out of nowhere and accidentally shoot at me.
I have finally arrived at my room destination but its door is still locked. It seems Mr. Baxton will not be here any minute. I could wander around while I wait but I became scared that an accident might occur again. So I just simply sit down at the floor and wait for the professor to come.
Strangely, my dreams are becoming deeper lately. I still dreamt about a forested land, but this time, weird creatures start to crawl towards me. The strangest thing though, they don't have the intention on attacking, killing or eating me. Initially, it began to distress me out all of a sudden and made me wake up in the middle of the night. Maybe watching hentai gives me more nightmares than usual. Shit! What am I thinking?
"Hey Grip!" I suddenly heard a commonly known yet irritating voice. It’s “music” to my ears.
"Oh, hey Molly. You should be home now, right?" I replied.
"Isn't it bad to wait for you?" she asked.
I merely forgot to mention, her complete name is Molly Mae Moonshine. I do sometimes call her "3M's" due to the first letter on her full name. Despite of her intellect, she's quite an immature person; especially on how the way she behaves sometimes. I do feel bad for her, most students tease her on her biracial context; you can tell that to her slight 2 afro-styled pig-tail hair and her skin complex. The good thing is she completely ignores that.
"You don't have to do that, ok?! Go home!" I said with a bothered face.
"No way! When a friend of mine needs comfort, I am here to go!" She cheered for me. Seriously, friendship doesn't rhyme well at me. There any chances of back-stabbing and ditching express lane, which mostly bad friendship ends up.
"You know Molly, it's really hard to say this but I don't want any friends in my life. I can do on acquaintances, but not friends. Their just a pain in a neck and a troublesome in life .So, can you just pl-" I was later interrupted by Molly's teary face. Darn Griffin, you made her cry again! Next to porn, seeing a girl cry is my second weakness! To what I see it, you are the only person to be blame when someone cries in front of you. I need to do something right away.
"Oh come on, girl!" I pleaded but she continues.
"Ugh... Ok! I will text you later when I got home!" I grumpily suggested to her.
"You will?! Ok then!" Her frowning turned up-side-down. Well, good thing she stopped. I really can't stand much of her crying.
"Yeah..."
"You promise, ok?"
"I promise..."
She knew that I can be doubted. But she smiled and replied,
"Good. Well, see you tomorrow! Don’t forget!" She giggled and later left the corridor.
"Well, Promises are meant to be broken." I lately stated for her. Finally, Mr. Baxton arrived with yet more annoyed texture on his face. A really good sight to see him, but sequentially, I wonder what happen to him. Maybe he will throw back his anger at me again. He is also holding a big old dusty book with him. Lecture time on discipline, I guess.
"You better just sit down there. Don't touch anything! Don't loiter outside! NO EVERYTHING! Wait me for an hour or two. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Wing?!" Mr. Baxton angrily instructed me and it seems he's preparing to leave again. He left the book at the teacher's table.
"Whatever." I answered.
"Answer me clearly, Mr. Wing! Do I make myself clear?!" His anger became twice annoying to hear.
"Yes, Mr. Baxton."
"Good! Well, I'll be right back. I need to deal with a student who almost stole that book from the main library." He stated while unlocking the door.
"Wait?! Who? And can you just bring that book back from the library? Thirdly, isn't it wrong to leave a student in a detention or any school-related activities without any high-risk reason?" I curiously asked.
"The student is none of your business, Mr. Wing. Second, the library is already closed and only the librarian has the keys. I will leave the book in here for security's sake, so please, better keep an eye on it. That student may barge in anytime he wants. And lastly, I really feel bad for you because no one really cares on what you say and what you do, Mr. Wing. It's just good to mute yourself up right now." He replied back.
On that time, after hearing Mr. Baxton said about me, hatred fills up my head. My anger became doubly than ever before towards him. I am really cursed, I guess.
I mutedly replied."Ok. Suite yourself"
"Don’t do anything reckless, Mr. Wing." He locked the door and left.
Good to see him left. If he keeps on standing in front of me, babbling about how cast out I am, bashing him is a great option. It sounds deranged for the real me; so I better stop thinking about it. It’s really peculiar to hear news about a student eager to get an old junk for unknown reason. Maybe there are some mystical or philosophical stuff in there needed to be reveal yet; or it's just some nasty porn magazines hidden at any of its pages. I can see it for myself but I am still distressed on my last accident, which wasn't entirely my fault. Everyone knows I am a recipe for disaster. Even I considered this insult right; anytime, anywhere. The best solution, to what I thought, is restraining me mentally in any kinds of activity within the room. I think I can surpass this for another hour, I guess.
Currently, more than fifteen minutes have passed and the room is too quiet for me; even though I love silent surroundings. Still, even though it was dismissal twenty minutes ago doesn’t mean it has to be “completely” silent. The problem to me, which I attributed as a burdensome factor against my mind, is my adventurous body. Even if I try to mind-set myself to stay foot, I would suddenly wander around, look, grab things and sometimes inspect them in a minute or two. Yes, I do commit some accidents at the school but not all of them are truthfully mine. Presently, my butt is starting to numb after sitting still for fifteen minutes. Why does Mr. Baxton having a hard time to catch that thief? I can't hold this reckless body of mine too long.
"Ok, both my body and mind are really getting tired of this! Why can't I just fall asleep right now?! Darn eyes!" I egotistically said after 45 minutes have passed. Sadly, Mr. Baxton is still not coming back.
Admittedly, I get easily annoyed on most stuff that is unpleasing to what I see, hear and do. I can't say "hereditary problem" is the reason why I act like this; I don't even know how my parents behave back then. Mannerism can be one. There's this one time that my foster dad told a weird story about me; at a very young age, I climbed up to the roof deck after leaving me for thirty minutes to get some groceries. They saw me sitting at our family bench that time, crying like I've missed someone. Well, It maybe some paranormal stuff to what I examined it. But now isn't the time to care on those things, I should prepare to what my life will offer to me; and when I said offer, I mean more misfortunes to come.
As I prepare myself to stand up on my seat and give my body some minor stretches, I heard a worried voice outside the room. "Damn! Where is that book? I am so freaking dead from Twilight!"
Assumedly, it’s the thief. Does he even knew stealing books, especially old and informative ones, is a bitch move? He deserves to be called worthless. However, he also mentioned a name “Twilight” which presumably an accomplice; Yet the name is quiet uncommon for a girl and definitely not to a guy. This is good timing for me; if I tell to Mr. Baxton this right away, he will absolutely let me get home. Oh Griffin, you are one smart ass!
As I grabbed and flashed the book, the first thing that got me glared is its title. “Equestrian Historical Archives” that’s a questionable one for a book, right? Why does a man so keen to get this ancient junk? Numerous questions are forming at my head. It can be a prank which I commonly hate as a humorous pun. But then again, after scanning its content, it seems legit. Despite most pages being fully detailed, there’s one that really got my curiosity on its higher state; a page titled "Archive no. #028: The Cursed Twins" which has no content to it. However, the title is pretty dark to be one, which I forethought.
My heart began to beat fast after seeing at the lower part of its page; it’s my name. I am dead serious. I didn’t write anything to that page, like it was written magically. Immediately, I throw the book away from me, thinking that the book was haunted or somehow.
Headache drives me back towards my seat; as it follows, my body began to tremble like I’ve experienced hypothermia. It’s not fear; it’s something I really can’t explain. Get yourself together, Griffin!
Slowly, my entire body weakens.
Afterwards, my hearing loses its capability.
The next is my sight.
What’s happening?
“…” Everything was pitched black for 5 minutes. It's like a nap; but this time, something was different, entirely.
"Ugh…I feel dizzy." I woke up slowly and tilted my head around to see if something happens.
Everything seems fine, I guess. Wait a second?!
"WHAT THE AGHHHHHH!" I shouted like a transgendered person; I can’t believe I’ve just said that. I let myself rescan everything; is this really true or just a dream? My body was entirely different; through feet, hands, nose and ears, every part was fucking different. The big question is: What am I?!
"NO! NO! NOOOOOO!"