A Criminal's Kiss
Chapter 1
I leaned forward, eyeing the teenage boy carefully while holding the knife to closer his throat; my hair was stained with crimson blood, eyes red feral and face decorated with purple bruises - I looked... Insane.
"Are you sure?" I pronounced each syllable slowly, making sure he understood what I was saying.
"P-please don't kill me!" He cried, closing his eyes tightly. I growled in frustration, pushing the knife further into his neck. He started wailing loudly.
"Shut UP!" I yelled, pulling my gun out, but he refused to be quiet - which left me only one option. I pulled the trigger and silence fell in the dark alleyway.
∞
I woke up gasping for air, my face was sweaty and my hair tangled. My phone began ringing.
"My heart's a stereo it beats for you so listen cl-..." I unlocked my iPhone and looked at the time - 7:30.a.m. I yawned and disregarded the grave-turning dream - like I always did.
'I didn't know you were capable of such things!' A snide little voice in my head remarked snidely. I ignored it and continued my daily routine: bath, school, utter-embarrassment-in-the-school-cafeteria, home and sleep.
I am those 'geeks' in school, why? This is the school hierarchy - at the top, was the 'carnivores', they were the people that if you messed with, you'd get your head kicked in.
Next, was the cliché, beautiful, magazine-cover type, anorexic cheerleaders who would throw them selves at any hot boy.
The jocks followed, burly and big as a hulk, always guffawing loudly at the 'yo' mama' jokes like they were the best things since squeezed oranges.
After were the rich and wealthy, the artsy, the preppy, the average, the goth and the druggies. And then me (nerd, geeks, hideous; do I go on?).
At the bottom.
The very bottom.
I stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my underarms. I hurried into my bedroom and pulled out some white baggy trousers, a purple turtle-neck and a grey hoodie - perfect. Why don't I show off my figure? I aim to be invisible.
∞
I lowered my head, trying to dodge the copious amount of hormonal girls, screaming in delight as they drooled over the drop-dead gorgeous figure of Blake Anders (you guessed it, the leader of the 'carnivores'). I groaned, still being sandwiched by the countless amount of teenagers circling him. My pleads for them to move out of the way were lost in the swarm. I slipped and fell, my face hitting the ground. Blood leaked from my face and I coughed up blood as people carelessly stepped on me.
"Ah!" I yelled, tears leaking from my eyes.
Suddenly, two hands circled my waist, lifting me up into the air.
"Let go of me!" I screamed, kicking helplessly. The cafeteria fell silent, with only gasps echoing inside. I looked upon my 'kidnapper' and gasped my self. It was Blake Anders! Holy mother of... My cheeks burned as I squeaked:
"Please let go of me." Blake Anders smiled and let me down. I wiped my bloody mouth and murmured a quiet 'thank you' before making my way through the dead-silent crowd and hurrying over to my friends at the back. I sat down and pulled my cardigan tighter around my chest.
"Stop gaping at me lie a fish!" I yelled as they all just stared at me. They immediately looked down on their food and stuffed it in their mouths. It was then I realised how bloody and bruised I must of looked. I got up and pushed passed the still wide-eyed crowd and found my way into the nurse's office.
"Oh, dear! You do look terrible!" She grabbed some bandages, pills, plasters and a bottle of something that I don't know. She got to work on my face, before moving on to my arms and abdomen, which were stained in dark blood. She wrapped the bandages and stack plasters all over it. She got a tissue, dipped it in the bottle and wiped the blood off. She got me new clothes and smiled lightly.
"There you go. Go in to the changing room to the left, and enter the changing room."
I nodded and walked over to the changing room. I looked at the clothes and gasped. It was a red tank top with black skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. She also gave me some black stilettos, because currently, my shoes looked like they've been dancing in mud and blood. I shyly put them on, and placed my clothes in the washing machine. I walked out of the nurses office and kindly thanked her. I grabbed my bag from the seat and went back to the cafeteria.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me.
I guess stilettos make a difference?
∞
I hope you enjoyed it! Please don't hate, it's my first!
Thanks for reading.
Kate1630