Ivy Bathory

[5] : Fresh, Cool and Pristinely Comforting.

"A boy once told me I'm heartless...
                                               ....I proved him wrong when I killed his grandma...and felt breathtaking remorse..."

- choccy_lips

* ** ** **

My sole purpose of waking from bed this morning was so I could stay in bed.

But then I realized staying in bed only made me think about what I shouldn't think off and I reluctantly got off and dressed up for school.

The principal didn't think much of my late arrival when I was sent to his office. I always came late, got a detention slip and walked away. It was a simple routine he knew we both followed. He'd of course done his job of giving me an inspirational talk about my education and future, but he'd stopped that after a few interesting witty remarks from me and glances towards how highly I still exceeded in my exams despite my poor attendance record.

Mr. Clyde was a man in his mid-forties, with every wrinkle prominent on his face and his hair a shattering grey that covered nearly his entire head, aging hadn't gone well on his side. We had our differences with how much he hated me. I'd heard that one of my fathers victims was a relative of his. He confirmed those were just rumors.

Mr. Vincent however, never took my late arrivals lightly, especially since it meant I skipped most of his classes posted at the start of the day.

I didn't mind missing his lessons.

My nose cringed when I stepped into his currently empty class, taking in the sight of what he dressed in. His blonde hair was messed up atop his head, sitting like a birds nest. His body, waist up, was covered by a bright pink jacket that didn't really go well with the dull green pants. Today, instead in the usual pink slides, he wore orange crocs that wrapped around Mickey mouse ankle socks. It was such a painful outfit to look at even from the far distance I was standing from. Honestly, he never did have a sense of fashion.

"Ivy!" He called, beckoning me forward with his hand.

I strutted to him cautiously, afraid he'd pull out a hideous large water gun from his jacket and chase me down the halls. He seemed dressed for that.

"How was the class yesterday?" He asked. "Did you learn anything?"

Yes. Green is such a pretty color.

I pushed that to the basement of my mind, frowning. "I did. It was...interesting."

He smiles, suddenly lost in his own twisted Disney bubble. "And what did you think of my dear, Kent?"

Kent...

I shrug. "He's okay, I guess."

One of his shabby brows raises in expectation, urging me to explain even more. "That's it? Okay?"

"What does this have to do with why you called me?" I snap, impatient. "I have things to do, Vincent."

He sighs sadly, head sagging. "You'll never change. Anyway, Mrs. Pam wanted me to hand you some work you were supposed to receive yesterday morning." He hands me a paper.

"Why didn't she just give it me herself." I asked, scanning the dozen load of work I was supposed to research from the library  and have done by this weekend. I scowled.

Vincent yawns. "Most teachers prefer not to have face to face interaction with you. You scare them with--" he points at my face "--that crazy cold look in your eyes."

That sounds like a good enough excuse. I fold the paper and place it inside my bag. Most teachers did prefer not to have any kind of interaction with me, they thought I brought commotion in the classroom. I didn't.