|This Mortal Coil
Author: NecrophagousSunshine PM
A supernatural story about a boy named Canaan O'Connor (not the same character from one of my previous story Softly- I just really like the name Canaan) and the dangerous world he is thrown into. I do not claim credit for the original picture in the cover image. All photo credit to thewistfulmuse )- "Stopping by Woods on a Snow Evening". I apologize for my shitty writing.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,641 - Updated: 02-05-13 - Published: 02-03-13 - id: 3098111
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
In my opinion, the worst part of waking up is waking up. It means another day in a world where no one cares, everyone is expected to be perfect, and I have to go math class. You have to open your eyes, lose the peaceful blankness of the brain, and pull yourself out of the only place that won't ever disappoint you– your bed.
Don't get me wrong, there were some parts of my day that I enjoyed. The old couple that walked their yapping chihuahua abomination every day before I left. Reading books in English class, and getting in arguments over the true meanings of what the authors wrote (I always won, I think, since most of the kids can barely read, let alone read between the lines). Hearing my sister talk to her friends after school. The couple reminded me of my grandparents, which are the models of what I want in a relationship. I find it fascinating how 26 letters can mean so many things, especially in the clever ways some people think of. The last one made me smile the biggest, because her social life assured me that she wasn't doomed to die alone like I was.
I stuck the key in the ignition and shook my head, wishing I could get lost in thought at more convenient times. Preferably when I wasn't about to be late. I pulled out of the driveway and cursed the damn car for making angry squirrel noises like I did every morning. I had to deal with it, since we couldn't afford a mechanic and it wasn't actually my car, but muttering rude things to an inanimate objects seem to help a little in those situations.
Making my way carefully through the snowy roads, I got to the school with minutes to spare. Gray sludge leaked into my shoes as I ran up the two flights of stairs and pushed open the front doors, but I had more important things to worry about. Slipping in before the bell, for starters. I barely remember fulfilling the usual cramming and snatching routine at my locker as I plopped into my seat. Mrs. Rice glared at me and I could only shrug sheepishly at her. I would be surly too, if I had to teach Calculus every day. I got out my book, wrote down the assignments, and let my mind wander during the entire lesson. It's not like I was bad at math. I was actually okay in it. It just seemed so pointless to learn things like Regiomontanus' angle maximization problem when you could die at any moment and no one perceives color in the same way.
It was an interesting concept. I began wondering if it had something to do with different chemical balances within a person when I realized that I had accidentally been staring at Dollie Petti for the last ten minutes. She had noticed, naturally, which meant I couldn't just look away without an explanation. She rose her eyebrows and tilted her head and I lifted my hands in front of me to show I wasn't looking for trouble. The way she shrugged and ran a hand through her hair before turning to her work was distracting because it left one orange cowlick sticking up and I wanted to make it lay flat. I wasn't attracted to her or anything, I just wanted to make it lay flat. Not that she wasn't attractive, I guess, just not my type (I didn't know what exactly my type was, but she wasn't it). She had a short ginger bob and pale skin that made her freckles stick out. There were dark circles under her eyes that she tried to hide with eyeliner. I wondered why she had them. Maybe she stared at the ceiling until three in the morning like I did.
"Canaan, can you wipe the drool off your mouth and pay attention, please?" Zachary muttered, nudging me. He was probably the only reason I did my work, since he seemed to care more about it than I did. I found myself constantly obliging, since I wanted to make him happy. He had been my best friend since first grade, so he deserved some ease of mind. I didn't think I could put up with all my crap throughout the years like he did. I nodded and started on the problems.
I suffered through the next three classes silently. I never talked much, since observing was more important than saying meaningless things to imbeciles that would only spew more meaningless things. It's weird that I called them all peasants and such, since I really wasn't any better than them. It was just one of the many flaws that made up Canaan O'Connor. I grabbed one of the mini cartons of chocolate milk and put it on my tray before paying for my lunch. I wished we could eat outside, but it was snowing again and we weren't allowed to anyway.
I sat down at my usual table, which was pretty empty. Zachary sat across from me, eating a tuna sandwich and studying for a history test. Marissa rested her head against his shoulder as she texted. She looked up at me and gave a smile before turning her attention back to her more important conversation. I liked her enough. She was smart enough for him and pretty quiet. She was okay-looking; I didn't really care, since she was Zachary's girlfriend and not my type.
I could feel someone come up behind me as I picked at my salad. Zachary and Marissa looked up and made almost identical faces of polite distaste. I swung around and looked up, almost getting a face full of Dollie Petti's cleavage. I rested my elbows on the table behind me as she smiled, her eyebrows high again. The cowlick was still up, but more flat than it had been.
"Hey?" I asked, clearing my throat after swallowing a slice of carrot. She could've been spending her time doing something that would benefit her values or something, but instead she had decided to talk to me.
She took a moment to squint at the two behind me before actually stating her business. "Hey, Canaan. I was wondering if you wanted to do something after school with some of my friends and me?" She automatically endeared herself to me by using correct grammar. Zachary stifled a grunt and I ignored him. A lot of people, he and Marissa included, thought that Dollie and her friends were druggies. I doubted it, and didn't see why others should care if they were. They weren't exactly perfect, and what Dollie's group did was none of their business.
I smiled, flattered to be invited. Not many people wanted to spend time with me, and I understood completely. "I'd love too," I replied in my quiet, unused voice. She grinned and patted my head.
"I'll meet you at your locker after class." She strolled back to her table and sat down, instantly laughing with something her blonde friend said. None of them looked the least bit bothered that she had talked to me, but one. He had black hair and piercing gray eyes that glared at my soul. I was surprised, trying to recall his name. Erik Walson. Erik Walson was staring menacingly at me. He looked like he had seen a ghost and wasn't happy about it. I turned back to my food, blinking.