Don't Forget Eli

Don't Forget Eli ~ Chapter One

Chapter One

                DarrenParkerHigh School was never the same after Elijah Markus Hunt committed suicide. It had affected every single person on campus, not just Elijah's friends. The jocks suffered games, the scholastics started flunking, the cheerleaders lacked pep, and the Goths and emos had a real reason to mop. The funny thing was that no one liked Elijah when he was alive, but his death had impacted over two thousand kids.

                I'm quiet and reserved. I only speak when spoken to, and nothing guarantees people will accept me when I do. Elijah was one of the few who did. He was also quiet, although it was in a more sly and mysterious way. The only times I had ever gotten in trouble I could point my finger at Elijah for influencing such. His appearance wasn't exactly the ideal image of good looks. His jaw was striking, straight from his cheek bones to his chin. The ends of his eyes pointed towards the sky, while the center of his eye was stretched wide. His nose was as straight as ruler, and the tip of his nose perked up creating an elfish look. His lips were a long, thin line that when he smiled was crooked. Lengthy jet black hair framed his face. His eyes were his strangest feature. A deep blue had melted out of his pitch blackness of his pupils, fading into an ice blue in the center where it interlaced with a mint green that gradually turned into a forest green. The array of colors was then surrounded with a thick, black ring.

                The day we met had been my first day at Darren Parker. It was actually the first day of school, but it was especially hard for me since I had just moved from a small town. For those of you that have never grown up in a town with a population fewer than five hundred and then move to a big city, let me tell you, you feel horribly lost. Small towns, everyone knows everyone, and you know where you fit in. In cities it's easy to be forgotten. My middle school had consisted of forty-seven kids, Darren Parker had consisted of something around two thousand, six hundred. It had multiple floors, and the campus was exceedingly large.

                I had gotten lost trying to find my way to my English Honors class and I had pulled out the map of the school every freshman and newcomer was supplied with. After about ten minutes of trying to navigate my way through the school I discovered the correct set of stairs and entered the classroom fifteen minutes late. I shrugged into the first desk I could find, blushing deep red from the sets of eyes staring at me. "Welcome to English Honors, for those of you who are new I'm Mr. McCamrick. Now I know this is your second year here for a lot of you," Mr. McCamrick stated in a form of introduction. Instantly I realized I was in the wrong class. I had Mr. Sherirald, and this wasn't a freshman class. I jumped out of my seat and ran out the door before Mr. McCamrick could continue. Running down the hall, I looked back to make sure he wouldn't stick his head out and yell for me. Because of this I had bumped into a boy who was stuffing books in his lockers.

 If the boy wasn't so skinny and had such a lack of muscle, he might have been able to regain his balance by taking a step back. This wasn't the case though, because he was indeed skinny and lacked anything involving muscle and fat, and he tumbled to the ground with me on top of him. He busted out laughing, although his head seemed to have smashed into the linoleum pretty hard. My cheeks again flooded with color as I pushed myself of him and offered him a hand getting up. He took it without hesitation and stood up. "Elijah Hunt," he said, turning my helping hand into a handshake.

"Ashleigh Chambers," I replied, smiling at him. It was a grateful smile; he was the first person to acknowledge me all morning. I took in his features, and I wasn't sure where to place him. He was dressed in plain white v-neck shirt, tight jeans cut off at the knee and simple black vans. At the time his hair length was just past his ears. His lips tightened in that crooked grin of his and after a second of silence I asked, "Do you know where Mr. Sherirald's class is?"