First Impressions

First Impressions The sun was setting on the horizon lighting up the sky with a dazzling crimson, turning the ocean from a deep turquoise to a blood red. The wind blew, rustling the leaves in the trees to play their sad songs; like musicians with their instruments. A woman, no less than twenty stood on a beach, far away from humanity. Her long black tresses like raven wings slowly moved with the wind; her face was as pale as snow. She wore a white dress that flowed around her like the shifting sea; around her body was a swirl of tattoos with intricate designs and runes that travelled up her arm, around her shoulders and down to her waist: they stood out from beneath her clothes like a burning imprint. The wind caressed her face like a gentle mother proud of her child and in her hand lay a single red hibiscus flower. She lifted it to her lips and whispered ancient words of love, and remembrance. Slowly, she set the flower on the water’s edge and watched as it slowly drifted off into the horizon. As the sun finally set; it seemed to have snuffed out every light around her. A teardrop slowly ran down her cheek and fell into the water, causing ripples along the surface. She gave one final glance at the sea before she unfurled her wings and took off into the dark night. *** The alarm rang out loud like a police siren and Clare groaned as she fumbled around to stop it from ringing. She opened her eyes, mumbling to herself, before she realised what day it was: the first day of school. The smell of her grandma’s freshly-made pancakes travelled trough the air alluring her to wake up and get dressed like a snake charmer’s music would allure a snake to dance. Finally, she brushed her teeth and got changed, as Clare could not resist the smell anymore. ‘Grandma, do you have to be so cruel?’ asked Clare as she came down the stairs, ‘especially at this time in the morning.’ ‘You’ve been reading in the night again haven’t you?’ grandma asked sincerely. ‘No’ Clare rethought her answer as she looked at the solemn expression on her grandma’s face. ‘Well, um, maybe a few pages?’ Her grandma sighed, ‘To answer your first question: that’s what you get for reading very late in the night, now you better hurry up or you are going be late for school.’ Clare sighed, nothing got past her grandma, whenever she came to ask tough questions Clare was a terrible liar and when she did try: her grandma could tell right away. She loved her grandma’s house because it smelled of lavender everywhere as her grandma owned a beautiful lavender farm and nestled at the heart of it was an apiary where Clare’s grandma made the best lavender honey in the whole world. She sold her honey to people from faraway places that come just come to taste her honey. She thought about this as she ate her pancakes. As she left the house she felt a prickly sensation behind her back, the sensation that makes you feel like you’re being watched. Just at the corner of her eye she saw a dark figure in the trees but when she turned to look, it immediately vanished. Clare blinked hard and after a while she slowly turned and walked to the bus stop. School wasn’t one of Clare’s favourite places to be but one thing that did brighten up her day was when she saw Simon: her best friend since first grade. She was talking to Simon when two things happened simultaneously: the bell rang and three new kids, two boys and a girl, came into their common room; as they crossed the room and sat at the back everyone became silent.

Strange, Clare thought as a cold chill suddenly ran up her spine as the new kids past her. Then one of the kids, a boy, about seventeen that had dark russet hair and a sharp bone structure looked to the side and gave her a cold hard stare for about a split second, only to turn away from her. Colour rose to her cheeks as she quickly turned away to face the wall before anyone could notice. The rest of the day was, in Clare’s opinion: was very boring. She was looking forward to the end of the day as Simon was being a pain in the neck as she was Simon’s partner in a science project and in all honesty a practical genius. She was coming back from the local Starbucks when he was giving one of his ‘responsibility’ speeches and frankly she wasn’t in the mood so she just as they crossed the bend to her house she turned to face him said, ‘So in summary, I’m coming over to your house this Saturday?’ Simon sighed, ‘Yes.’ ‘Alright, I’ll be there. Bye.’ ‘Bye,’ replied Simon sourly. With a final smile Clare went through the gate only to run straight into one of the new kids in school, this time it was the girl. ‘Sorry,’ Clare stammered as she finally got her balance, noticing that the girl had long ash-blond hair and a permanent scowl on her face but Clare was also shocked at how beautiful she was: this girl made a Dolce and Gabbana model look plain. Her eyes narrowed at her as she sneered and said, ‘What are you doing here?’ Breaking from her thought process, Clare finally managed to say evenly, ‘I live here with my grandma.’ ‘Why?’ she replied harshly. ‘My parents died just after I was born.’ The girl with blond hair’s expression finally softened and she whispered, ‘sorry.’ Before Clare could reply, another harsh voice interrupted her. ‘Come on Isabelle, let’s go.’ There behind her were the other two new kids and the one that spoke had curly copper hair, who wore the same expression as the blond girl, Isabelle. Behind him, stood the dark haired boy with his hands in his pockets, looking away into the distance. The garden path was small and the four of them did not fit in perfectly but the three new students managed to push passed her. As the dark haired boy passed her, his shoulder brushed against hers sending sharp electrical currents shooting down her spine. As she automatically turned to him and she was lost for words because Clare was practically an inch from his face. They stood there for split seconds as she gazed into his cold, hard blue eyes. Clare mind was reeling; she felt like she was falling and Clare slowly leaned forward, towards him. A pink haze blocked her vision and she could feel her heart beating rapidly. As she studied the dark haired boy’s expression on his face and she knew that he was experiencing the same thing. In the distance she heard Isabelle clear her throat and Clare snapped out of her trance. She jumped back violently and felt like her legs would fold under but she managed to keep her balance. The dark haired guy mumbled under his breath and strode off; leaving Clare feel very vulnerable. After the left, she mentally shook the feeling off and headed indoors only to be greeted by a very irritated grandma. ‘Where were you? You are half an hour late!’ ‘Chill grandma, I just went to Starbucks to get a coffee with Simon.’ ‘Don’t you realise how late you are?’ ‘I’m seventeen, grandma I think I can handle myself.’

‘You don’t have a clue what’s out there!’ ‘Grandma what can be more dangerous than a backfiring lawnmower in the day, in California?’ ‘I’m your grandma and you will listen to me.’ ‘Why are getting so worked up?’ Clare finally said, getting really exasperated. ‘I don’t mean to nag like a parent but I’m just trying to be responsible and thinking of your safety,’ Clare’s grandma replied in a much softer voice. ‘Then stop pretending to be!’ Clare shouted, losing her temper. When she finally realised what she had said, Clare immediately felt guilty and as she looked up to say sorry but her grandma was gone and the door was left open. Clare broke down and started to cry as she ran out the door and into the darkening day. Clare visited her parents’ grave whenever she was feeling sad or needed to think things through. It was the only place she could think of going to. When she arrived at the gate of the cemetery she took a break. Panting, she walked the rest of the way as the grave was at the older side of the graveyard and it was a long walk. The new side of the cemetery was clear with a neat lawn, as she entered the oldest part of the graveyard there were trees growing everywhere and weeds growing in some people’s burial place. As she was in close proximity of her parent’s grave she started to hear voices: it was the same three new kids that came to her house standing right in front of their burial ground. There something was very different about them but she just couldn’t put her finger on what. They were talking in quiet whispers but she could just hear the odd word as she hid behind a tree. She wished that she could hear them more clearly and as she thought this their word became slight more audible. ‘What are we going to do about the girl?’ asked Isabelle ‘Nothing.’ the coppered haired boy answered. ‘How do we know that she is not involved in any of this?’ argued Isabelle ‘We know that she doesn’t have any involvement because the old woman hasn’t told her yet,’ the dark haired boy finally assessed. ‘Jason, we know nothing for sure,’ replied Isabelle. ‘Well then you just have to trust me,’ Jason challenged back. ‘Ash, what do you think?’ asked Isabelle The boy with the copper curls, Ash, shrugged. ‘Ugh, you are soooo not helping!’ It took a while before Clare could realise that they were inevitably talking about her and as she moved closer in to listen to them, Clare stepped on a twig and all hell broke loose. ‘Who’s there?’ hissed Isabelle. Damn, Clare thought as she slowly came out from behind the tree and walked with one fluid motion to the trio. ‘What are you doing here?’ Jason said in a cold and hard voice. ‘I’m here to visit my parents’ grave,’ Clare said as steadily as she could. ‘Where are your parents?’ inquired Isabelle before Jason could say anything. ‘Behind you’ were all the words Clare could muster. ‘Oh,’ was all Isabelle could say. ‘Well, we better get going. Um, don’t want to be past curfew; our parents are very strict,’ Ash said. As quickly as she had ever seen anyone walk they hurried off into the main cemetery. It was about eleven o’clock before she finally came home to find that the door had been locked and she could not open it. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of Clare’s stomach. Her grandma never locked the door: the nearest place of

civilisation was about a few metres away. Clare went to the back door and found it locked to but as she gave up trying to enter she saw that her room window was open. Luckily, a there were a few trees close to her window and as she started to climb a random tree she realised that climbing trees was not as it easy as it seemed but eventually after falling twice, getting whacked by unseen branches, getting numerous bruises on her arms, torso, legs and scraping her hands on tree bark she managed to haul herself up to the biggest branch that was closest to her room. It was still about another meter or two away from her but she still jumped without even thinking about it. Just as Clare thought she was going to miss it, Clare closed her eyes, stretched out her hand and caught the ledge of her window sill. Slowly and steadily she hauled herself into the room and collapsed on the floor. Then, Clare heard a sound that she was never going to forget in a long time: an inhuman, banshee like scream. Clare froze in place as she suddenly felt ice cold, then she realised what was wrong: Clare couldn’t smell the lavender anymore. Cautiously, she got up and step by step she walked to her grandma’s room. After, what felt like an age, Clare finally reached the door of her grandma’s room. With all the courage she could muster she opened the door and there in the middle of the room lay her grandma, her eyes had turned a misty grey and she looked into Clare’s eyes and slowly said in a raspy voice: ‘I am so sorry…my dear, be careful…ru…save yourse……’ As Clare looked down her grandma’s body her gaze froze at the large blood stain that was spreading on her grandma’s night gown, like eagle’s wings. ‘Grandma!’ Clare screamed as she darted across the room to her grandma, ‘don’t leave me! You’re all that I have!’ Clare took her grandma’s hand and gently cradled it to her face. ‘No, no, no, no, no…’ Clare broke down and started to cry as she saw her grandma close her eyes and as one solitary teardrop ran down her cheek she let her final breath as the old woman slipped away into an everlasting darkness. As Clare let the information slowly sink into her she looked down at her hands to observe the blood on them. The tears fell like a waterfall down her cheeks and Clare felt like someone had just cut her heart out. As she managed to stand up with support; in the distance she heard a rustle of feathers. Clare froze as she turned her head she saw a woman in her twenties with long red twisted hair stood behind her: wearing a black leather suit and a wicked smile upon her imposingly beautiful face like a vengeful angel. Shocked to her wits, Clare could not move as looked at the raven black wings that were clearly attached to her back. This mysterious young woman came up to her and engulfed her with her black wings, only to whisper in her ear: ‘I’ve got your grandma, now you’re next.’ With that she went straight to the window in one fluid motion and jumped out, splaying her wings and flew away into the night. Clare took her phone out to dial 911 but as she was about to hit the call button someone hit her at the back of her head and Clare blacked out.