Within The Cave- Originals

Chapter 22

"Yes, mom."

Seven-twenty in the morning; first I felt is dampness before I bolt out of the bed. Darting my eyes to mom, she has an empty bowl on her hands, no doubt she was the one who soak me wet.

"Mom!" I dramatically yell at her.

"It worked! Take your bath. I've prepared bacon and eggs already. Get down in ten minutes." She start to murmur as she walks out of the room, to the living area. I caught a glimpse of some of what she murmurs— 'sleeping like there's no tomorrow' or so.

I've been striped off the intentions of wanting to go back to sleep so I make my way over to the bathroom. I don't feel like bathing again, so I made the decision of just washing my face and arms and legs with the milky-scented soap, mom got me during Christmas time, thrice now and I love its scent. Makes me remember how much I love milk at kindergarten but not-so-alike at this time of my age. Maybe my puberty affected it?

When I'm through, I dry myself with the same white towel with many rabbits. I lay my pajamas with PJ mask cartoon picture, printed all over it in small, repetitive decor on the wardrobe and pick up a new dress for school.

It's a normal, regular, casual plain brown shirt and black jeans with robes like the size of cables to hook it by the hips and not belt. I add a sandy, more shades of brown-alike sneakers and make sure not to forget, putting a cap into my bag because of the afternoon heavy sun and shades too. My blonde hair is packed into a high-tight-top-knob, staying in the middle of my head and leaving strands to flop down, drawing to my neck and bit at my forehead. I never really cared about fixing my hair though, I much prefer leaving them as they want. Why would I want to change the way they'd have liked to be? That's just how I see it.

Hastily putting on the dress, I make my way to the kitchen to find mom, dressed in casual manner too-- yellow polo shirt that's tugged, roughly into her white skirts and a white, contradicting sandal. She's a imperfectly perfecto.

Mom flashes me a smile of approval at my dress.

"Your food is in the kitchen."

I hurry over to the kitchen and as said, I found it covered with the same sets of silver lids of yesterday. Opening it, I'm embedded by the benignant smell. My taste buds are already yelling hurray!

To cover the wasted time, I finish my food faster than normal and join mom in a hurried pace to the car.

Luckily for us, the traffic isn't much. When we get to two blocks away from the school building, the red light beams and we stop.

Mom lowers the music and gawk sharply at me, "so, do you remember anything from day before yesterday?"

Her question ships me back to...fangs...blood...the windows, opening...the questions I want to ask Nicklaus when I get to school.
Anxiousness to ask him suddenly overwhelms me once again and I try my best to push it away. I just hope he'd give me a reply, disregarding the fact that we haven't talk before and the first time, it'd be, I am asking him lame, superstitious, stupidity-full, rubbish, based-on-phantom-thought questions.

"Yes, mom. I hit my head against the floor when walking down a couple of stairs with your high heels. I had wounded my neck too in the meantime." The lie comes so easily that I fear myself for a second-- didn't know I'm this good at lying.

"Just be careful next time, okay?"

"Definitely."

The green light takes over the screen and we drive again.

At the school parking lot, mom plant me a kiss on my forehead while I give her a peck on her cheek. She beams at me, watching me as I approach the entrance and enter.

I pass by the students, swarming the space, and cramping the area. Lots of others latches their frame against their lockers, chatting away with their friends.  With a sigh of content when I sight my locker, I open it and picks my stuff.

I pick the series of books needed for today's class and close back the blue-painted metal door of it.

"Rayne!" Squeals the voice before its owner runs over to me and hugs me-- a tight, big bear hug. "Are you okay?"

I'm tired of this same set of question, but I should expect a lot of it though.

"I...am...okay, Shade. I've said it a billion time and I'm fed up."

"That's great. You cut off on me yesterday so what did you expect?"

That...

"Ah, about that..." I trial off, realizing I almost spill-the-beans, let-the-cat-off-the-bag on my big secret.

"So, what class are you having?" Shade ask. She's still checking me from arm's length.

"Um..biology, physics, and calculus. Those are the ones I remember for now." I say and Shade leans on my locker—an habit common here, in Franklin regional senior high school.

"Ugh, we should have had likewise subjects. I have economics first."

"That's too bad."

"Very." Shade replies, discontentment etches her voice and I scoff.

***
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