Bled Dry // Audrey Jensen

fresh start

Unedited

Lakewood was no where near as typical as a small town such as itself was expected to be. Everyone acted how they should and no one's mask ever slipped - but the town had a dark past, and no matter how much everyone tried to ignore it; the town was stained red.

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Sidney Sharpe walked causally through the doors of George Washington High School , even though her insides were jelly. She expected at least some of the students to look her way, a curious glance possibly even a whisper to a friend but no, everyone's attention was diverted elsewhere; their phones. A video was playing, but she couldn't make out any of the footage. Shrugging, she continued through the hallways until she wandered upon the registration office.

Her first class of the day was English, her favourite, but she had a feeling that this specific class required a lot of active participation and that didn't sit well with her.

"Cavemen made fires. Those fires cast shadows, and those shadows created fear. Men have been obsessed with scaring each other ever since." Mr Branson, the teacher, began. Subtly, Sidney peered through her hair at her classmates.

Everyone surrounding her was noticeably very attractive, whether it be the dark haired boy sat beside her with a slight frat boy-ish air about him or the beautiful girl a few seats in front with long blonde hair and eyes brilliantly large.

"Brooke." Mr Branson caught her attention, revealing girl's name. "Which genre originated with the 'Castle of Otranto'?"

Sidney knew the answer, it was basic knowledge for anyone interested in literature that was more on the macabre side. That and back in England, her teacher taught Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft in every lesson no matter what was scheduled. Christ, her end of year assignment was to write three-page essay on the influences media stories about serial killers had on the readers mental state. Sidney chose Ed Gein, - she, too, used to have a slight passion for textiles.

Brooke looked at him blankly, she obviously didn't know the answer, but she was wearing a devious smirk that made Sidney question if Brooke and Mr Branson's relationship was less than appropriate, but Sidney wasn't one to be bothered in others businesses.

"The castle genre?" she shrugged.

A tension formed throughout the class as the student and teacher stared each other down, but a low voice broke through the silence.

"The Gothic genre."

Heads turned towards the source, eyes filled with mild interest - especially the beautiful and delicate girl she'd noticed was called Emma - the boy was also new.

"Correct." Mr Branson noticed the classes' attention was waning and moved swiftly on " Guys, I get it. You don't want to read 500 dusty pages about monks and curses. But no one's forcing you to watch 'The Walking Dead'"

The boy with brown hair - Jake - spoke up hopefully "Is 'Walking Dead' on the midterm?"

"Zombies aren't literature." Emma huffed, glancing towards him.

"Why not?" Kieran challenged.

Sidney grinned to herself. Conflict, tame conflict, was the best part about class discussions. Although, Kieran wasn't laughing at Emma. Just contradicting her statement.

" Horace Walpole or George Romero. It's all the same bones." He continued.

Mr Branson loved where this was going, he laughed.