Ice Etchings

2

"You're telling me someone threw you in a locker and you got a contact rash," my mom sighed. "Of all the stupid reasons! I'm pulling you from that school! That's the third time this month something like this happened."

"I swear I'm fine," I assured her. I didn't want to leave school. If I left Ridgeview Academy, there would be no more Gina, days of camping in the choir room at lunch, and Ms. Clyde's fun english classes.

My mother's gaze softened.

" Fine, we'll give it one more go." She ruffled my long brown hair, then set off to make lunch.

"Is pasta okay with you?" She asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," I replied. It was at that moment that I knew one thing: if I got bullied again, I wouldn't tell her. I didn't want to be alone.

I ate my lunch quickly, then made my way up the stairs of my house and into my room. I flopped down on my bed. Earlier, my mom applied a coat of some medicated lotion on my wrist, but I still had to fight the urge to scratch. In desperation, I put a bandaid over the small itchy patch. There.  Now I couldn't itch the thing. I rolled over onto my side and eventually fell asleep.

~(dream)~

I didn't know where I was. It was cold and dark. I was holding nothing but a torch, and the harsh winds threatened to blow it out. Something was walking along the edge of the light that the torch cast. My hair blew into my face as I went to get a clearer look.

"Hello?"

Nothing responded. 

I waited. The darkness was engulfing me. I was suffocating. The warmth of the torch was becoming unbearable an-

~(end of dream)~

I sat up gasping. My pillow was on my face, cutting off any air. I threw it off, sending it flying across the room as I drank in deep gulps of air. Something else was bothering me. I felt like the thing in my dream was still watching me. It terrified me. 

-

"Miss Wade? May I see you for a moment?" The voice of my english teacher, Ms. Clyde, called to me. Suddenly feeling nervous, I glanced at Gina, who shrugged in reply. 

"Good luck," Gina said. Turning away from my friend, I made my way to Ms. Clyde.

Quick word before you meet Ms. Clyde. She is in her mid thirties or so, and is one of my favorite teachers. Mainly because her classes didn't bore me to death. Well anyways...

"Yes Ms. Clyde?" I asked, fidgeting nervously with my hoodie strings. 

"Follow me please."

I gulped and followed her out the door and towards her office. While walking, I tried to remember anything I may have done to earn a potential detention  or punishment. Or maybe she was going to interrogate me about the locker incident yesterday. I was so distracted, that I hadn't realized that I begun to scratch my rash raw. I watched as she opened the door to her small office. Oh, by the way, when I said small, I meant small. It hardly had enough room for her desk and a small chair that was pushed against the wall. On her desk sat a small jar of rainbow jellybeans and piled around it were notes, lesson plans, and books. I took a seat on the small old chair. Ms. Clyde sank into the seat in front of me. Suddenly, I panicked.

"Listen, if it's about the locker thing, it wasn't my fault!"  I blurted. Then I covered my mouth with my hands.

Ms. Clyde raised her eyebrows.

"Locker... thing?" 

I suddenly realized the lockers weren't the reason I was here. 

"Nothing," I shrugged. Ms. Clyde shot me another skeptical look.

"I actually called you to my office to ask you why you've been hiding your arm all day," she said. I blinked. This... was a plot twist. 

"Um... it was a contact rash. From the locker situation?" 

I didn't sound very sure of myself.

"No, it's not," She replied. Suddenly, I felt lost. That was the only logical explanation. Ms. Clyde spoke again.

"I'll explain for you. But first, do you believe in magic?"