By: Francine

Some Secrets should not be discovered Ch:1

The intestines slipped out of the animal's stomach. Slimy and covered with acids, Dominique backed away from the dissected frog, holding down her own bile. Gross, She thought. She shot her hand in the air and waved frantically at the old teacher that stared at her absentmindedly. His gray hair hung around in tufts over his cold eyes, the twinkle long dead. He adjusted his white labcoat which was too long for him. "What is it Ms. Ronne?" He uttered. It took effort for him to speak. "Can I g-go to the b-bathroom, please?!" "Why not? No one else seems to be paying attention to the lesson." He drawled sarcastically. Dom looked around the cluttered classroom at the students that were staring intently at the lifeless frogs on the long black tables, poking them with "Beginner" scalpels. "Thanks, sir." Dom said, grabbing her books and shoving them into the beige messenger bag and slung it around her shoulders. Her brown hair swung behind her, and she kept her eyes glued to the ugly brown carpet lining the floor. She burst through the heavy wood door wishing she were still in bed. It was only third period and she felt sick. She was not a morning person. She scuttled into the bathroom. Flinging herself onto the nearest sink, she scrubbed her hands clean of the smell of death. "That is just disgusting." She heard herself say. She slammed on the faucet, which to her dismay,was broken. "DAMN IT!" She yelled at the sink. She kicked it. Looking out the window she could see the sun and it's perky rays. How aggravating! It's too freaking bright! She thought to herself. What was wrong with her? Well, this was normal. She was having a bad day and she was not liking how the rest of the world seemed to be carrying on perfectly. Their shallow lives were fine. So was hers, she reminded herself. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her and she slid to her knees inside the nearest stall. The stench of frog wasn't removed and the smell of soap and toilet was sending her off the deep end. And the sun's damn perky rays were killing her eyes! Suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. Dom's body locked as she vomited. The sound was horrid. Everything came up and her strength diminished and dissolved. She stood on weary legs and flushed. She tottered inside the cafeteria and sat at one of the long narrow tables. Opening a bag she carried in her messenger bag, she began to pull out snacks. These will hold my stomach until lunch. She tilted back her head and let water flow from the bottle into her parched mouth. Maybe I'm getting some sort of bug? Why is the sun bothering me today out of all things? Why do I have such a weak stomach? The answers didn't matter, though. She had the perfect life. Anyone who says 'perfect' didn't exist had never met Dominique and spent an evening with her family. She had everything anyone wanted and more. Dominique had her mother's elegant yet seductive figure: brown hair and soft highlites, blue eyes that turned green, a soft nose, full lips. Grown women envied Dominique's sixteen year old curves. She was captain of the Cheer squad. She played sports and was MVP almost every year. She wasn't the most popular girl, but she was known by all. She had the best grades in the whole H.S. And her father worked for the government on something very secretive. Dom didn't even know what it was. Well, that's not entirely true. She knew he made good money off it. And that he had been on the same mission for years. The computer in the den was offlimits at all times, so Dom figured that's where his "top secret" James Bond wannabe information was stored. So lame, she thought. Her mother was a different story. Her childhood was spent moving to different countries. From France to Russia to Egypt to Italy to Transylvania and finally settling on New York city. Who wouldn't love the streets crowded with people? It made an intricate design of lifestyles that fascinated Dominique's mother, Katarina. She loved the stores and different cultures. Although some events in her past she will not speak of, she met and fell in love with her father, Marino in Transylvania. Dominique decided she'd skip lunch and head home for the day. The illness she had just picked up didn't seem to be vanishing yet. In fact, it seemed to grow worse. One more stop before I head home, though. The bell wrung for the end of third period and the halls suddenly erupted with cliques and students. Girls met their boyfriends outside of classes and the nerd was getting his usual humiliation. The Jocks were going over the newest plays that they had thought up of while they struggled and gave up with their schoolwork. The Freaks just moped around talking to one another, hardly daring to venture from beneath the shroud of black that surrounded them. Dom suddenly found her mark. "Hey, Delilah!" A short blonde swung around on her platform heels. Her cherry red lipgloss seemed a small bit appetizing, so Dom asked to use it for a second. Holding the vile, it seemed like something awfully tasty, but Dom couldn't raise the name of the scrumptious dish. She turned her attention back to her best friend. "Listen, I think I'm going to--" "Head home for the day." Delilah replied, oddly reading Dominique's mind. Delilah giggled at the surprised expression on her friend's face. Surprise turned to confusion, so Delilah informed that she looked ill. In fact, dead could be the word. Her eyes seemed dark and unhappy, her face a pale moon color. Her lips looked as if the blood was drained. "Listen, Dom I'll pick up your books and swing by your house later. Okay?" "Perfect. Thanks so much! You're a lifesaver." "Well, if you start to look alive again, maybe I'll take it up as a profession." "See ya." Dom trotted off down the near empty hallway.

She walked out into the fresh air and squinted through the almost painful sun rays. She shunned her eyes and began walking, staring at the ground. Her feet were on automatic and as she passed by a tall green bush outlining the school's perimeter, a cold hand grabbed her and the other hand clamped over her mouth and tugged her into the now ominous tree, a look of fierce terror over her face.