Monday 10th June, 2019
Day 8. The Last Day.
I hid in the toilet like a coward.
Feeling flooded back to me; something about the fire in Julian's eyes cut through the fog in my mind like a knife, making way for all the emotions to come through.
Questions ran through my head - who was that man? What was he? His black eyes, abnormal strength and speed weren't human - I was sure of it. And those razor teeth. . .
I shuddered. Had my car been towed yet?
Why was Julian so bothered? He should have laughed, smiled in delight at my neck. After all, he hated me.
Didn't he?
Taking deep breaths, I ignored the dull pain in my leg and got up. My shin prickled hotly - had I been walking around in pain all day? I pushed out of the cubicle; it had been about fifteen minutes since I dove into the girl's bathroom for safety. Julian's probably gone.
I caught myself in the mirror; pale faced, my eyes pained. I didn't look like me at all; the girl in the mirror was a stranger. Sighing, I headed out, wincing when I stepped on my bad leg.
Outside the toilet, I reared back. Someone was leaning on the wall.
"What the hell took you so long?" Julian snapped.
"Get lost." I told him, feeling more alive.
"Wow - a proper response."
His eyes were still like fire, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Bye, Julian." I walked around him.
Next to me, he kept up with my fast pace easily. Damn those long legs of his. "Now who's running away like a child?"
"I'm not running away."
"Then what are you doing?"
I stopped in the middle of the corridor, looking up to see his jaw lock, as if bracing for a scolding. But it wasn't worth it. "I don't have to answer to you, Julian."
He shifted on his feet. "When did it happen, Brooke?"
"Why should I tell you?" He hesitated, and my heart sunk. "I haven't told anyone. Not even Brendan." I watched as his eyes tightened at the name.
"Brooke--"
"Shut it, Julian." My voice was cold. "You should be happy."
"About what?"
"About what happened to me."
"Do I look happy?" It was a hiss, the ends of his curly hair shaking with anger. "What happened, Brooke?"
"None of your business." I snapped, and darted around him.
This time, no one followed.
The rest of the day, I worried myself sick. Not knowing what that man was, or what he wanted with me, drove me crazy. And the worst thing was, I knew he wasn't dead.
In my mind, I saw him pulling out the knife; slowly, agonizingly. No cries of pain, no sign of struggle. Like he didn't feel anything.
Would he be back? He seemed intent on the attack. . . Closing my eyes, I let my head drop into my hands. I would call the police if I didn't think they'd laugh in my face and lock me up. It sounded crazy! That was why I hadn't told anyone. . .
I knew I sounded insane. But I also knew what I saw.
On my way out of school, desperate to go home and lock all the doors and windows, someone caught my arm.
I spun, prepared to spit at Julian, but Brendan stared back at me instead.
"Brooke?"
"Brendan," I breathed out in relief. "Are you okay?"
"I kind of came to ask you that." He let go of my arm, scratching the back of his head.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Really?" He eyed me. "You seemed strange this morning, and you didn't come at lunch. . ."
It was then that I felt the eyes on me. Even a week after the absence, the feeling was annoyingly familiar. Turning, I spotted Julian across the lot.
He slid off his car, dark eyes intent on my face. I looked back at Brendan quickly, "I helped out at the library today. Sorry."
"That's okay. You look better now."
I felt so guilty being distant, but I had to bolt. Soon. "I feel better. Thanks for asking."
"You know you can talk to me, don't you?"
"Of course, Brendan--"
"Do you mind if she talks to me a moment?" Came a smooth voice from behind.
Brendan looked over my shoulder, eyes widening.
"Go away, Julian." I hissed.
"Not this time, Brooke." He said, and elbowed Brendan away.
"Brendan," I stared at my friend. "Can I speak to you later, please?"
"Are you sure--" His eyes flitted nervously to Julian.
"She's sure." Julian said.
I stared intently at Brendan, trying to communicate with my eyes that he should go. Finally getting it, he nodded, smiling at me uneasily before departing.
Reluctantly, I glanced at Julian. He didn't look impressed.
"What is it with you and running away?" He snarled.
"I only run away from you."
"So you admit to running away?"
"No."
"Then what are you doing?"
I focused on his biceps, straining against the black t-shirt as he folded his arms. "Can you please go away?"
"Why?"
"Julian," I sighed tiredly, "you are the least of my problems right now."
That fired him up. "What's the problem?"
"Why do you care?" It was a whine. My eyes found his face, curls blowing in his eyes; they were intent, with no signs of giving up. "So you can write it all over my locker? So you can shout about it in the corridor? I don't think so."
He blinked. "I wasn't going to do that."
"What were you going to do, then?"
His mouth opened, closed again.
"I don't have time for this." Pushing past him, I headed for my Mum's car.
"No, wait!" I heard him shout, running behind me.
I paid no mind, carrying on limping, smug with the knowledge he couldn't forcefully stop me here. There were too many eyes on us.
When I was close, I dug out my keys and unlocked the car.
"What--" I heard him stop. "Where's your car?"
I got in quickly, desperate to go. Turning the key, I yelped suddenly at the sight of his face at the window.
"Go away!" I told him.
He pushed his forehead against the glass, dark eyes hard. "Wind down the window!"
I shook my head.
"Brooke, wind it down!"
So I did; he stepped back, looking triumphant.
I stuck my head out. "Stick your nose in someone else's business," I hissed. "I'm tired of seeing it in mine."
And with that, I rolled the window up, pulling out of the space swiftly and getting the Hell out of there.