A Warming Ice 5

My classmates began to pass me heading up into their first period room; they gave no notice of me besides the occasional disgusted look.

I was beginning to reason with my self. He hadn’t left me; I was just so drowned in the feeling of warmth and protection I had blocked out everything, even the sound of the bell. I was relived at finally grasping this in my mind. I felt that small sense that I was wanted. That I had a reason to live.

I walked into the classroom, but with my first step through the door I was pulled up against the wall. “So I saw you hanging out with that Emo fag.” James said leering above me. I just turned my head, so he, and the rest of the class that was now watching wouldn’t be able to see me. “Aww, come on I think its kind of sweet,” he taunted, “do you two cut each other and write love poems with the blood,” He was absolutely beaming with satisfaction as he saw me cower underneath him, “or write little suicide notes to each other saying how much you want to die together?” I continued to stare at the ground I could hear the other kids laughing and giggling at me. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. “Why do they have to torment me? Why does seeing me happy make them feel the need to take it away and shred it till I’m left in my deepest misery? It’s because I’m a demon who’s trying to join world in which I don’t belong, and will never be accepted into.” The tears became too much and started to flow silently from my eyes.

“Sit down now.” The teacher said walking into the class as the late bell rang. James stepped away, looking ecstatic at the way he had made me cry, made me feel completely and utterly worthless. I slowly moved over to my seat, the seat where everyone moved his or her desks as far away as possible from mine before the teacher would notice. With every step I took I was wishing to just disappear, to vanish from existence. I Sat down only to put my head on my arms, and let the tears quietly flow from me and onto my shirts sleeves. Washing away the sweet scent that Damien had left behind.

 I could still hear the others quietly giggling, and every once in a while they would shoot what they thought were extraordinarily witty comments about the angel and me. Really I didn’t care so much of them making fun of me, I was used to it, well I was used to it enough that I didn’t completely lose my self, and burst into tears; no what really hurt me was how they said these things also about the angel, the only being which showed be any type of emotion besides loathing, contempt, and hate towards me.

At lunch I looked for him, hoping he would have the same lunch as me. “I should have asked him, I’m so stupid.” I thought resentfully at myself. “Maybe he’s fed up with seeing me and is avoiding me.” The thought stayed there gluing its self to the forefront of my mind. I again felt the emptiness that went along with the felling of being unwanted. “This is stupid, he said that I made him feel better, he wouldn’t just leave like that. Not unless he to was toying with my mind in some new sick way.” At that thought any self-confidence I had saved up disenagrated, and I gave up my search for him and slowly made my way to the library. It was the one place that I could just lose myself in, imagine my self being the hero of the story, imagine a different, better life. I walked through the black tinted doors, and made my way to the back of the library where I sat in the smallest table that no one ever sat in, except of course for, this despicable demon that now inhabited it. People went past me as they searched for books, and each time one passed by I stiffened, and waited not daring to breath until they moved past. The bell eventually rang again and I wearily stood from my chair and began to head back to the doors. As I reached for the doors it swung open seemingly of its own accord, hitting me right in the head. I let out a quiet squeak, and then clutched at my head. It felt warm, and as the skin of my hand pressed harder against my head the wound began to sting.

“OH, Sora I’m so sorry I didn’t see you!” I immediately forgot the pain. Their he was once again looking at me. I let my hands fall to my sides. I heard him gasp. I looked down at my hands; there was a small pool of blood in the center of my palm.

“I guess this is part of my punishment for trying to fly next to an angel.” I thought dismally. Placing my hand back onto my head, fruitlessly trying to cease the bleeding.

“Come on we should get you to the nurse.” He said slightly panicked, as he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the doors. His hand felt so warm and secure as it clutched onto my own cold unusually small one.

“But I have to get to class.” I said quietly, knowing that even if I did go to class the teacher would send me to the office any way, so I didn’t bother butting in any actual effort into trying to resist his warm hand.

“Are you crazy? Your head dripping blood.” I looked behind me at the ground where we were walking, where I could see a small trail of droplets of blood that were seemingly following us. I hadn’t realized I was bleeding so much. He rushed us quickly through the school; I could see people’s faces turning to stare. I guess it must look pretty strange, I mean how often do you see blood just pouring out of someone’s head. I just hung my head hoping that I could just disappear, “This must be really ruining peoples lunches.” I thought as I heard someone choke on their food behind us. He pulled me through the office doors, and began quickly talking to a wrinkled old lady who was sitting at the front desk. He unconsciously let my hand fall from his grip. I walked over to a chair and sat down. I was really starting to feel queasy. Yeah I was used to blood but it was different some how feeling it run down my face, and trickling into my mouth.

 I looked up as he called my name. “Sora, come on we need to get the blood washed off.” He said taking my hand once again, and pulling me into the nurse’s section of the office. He let go of me once we were inside and I instinctively went and sat at the bed before I collapsed. He went to the bathroom and got a wet paper towel and began to wipe the blood off of my face. He quietly apologized over and over again. I tried to tell him it was ok, but he just kept saying he was sorry over and over. The nurse came in; Damien had already cleaned almost all the blood off my face by now. She thanked him and told him to go back to class. Sounding unconcerned except for the slight hint of annoyance at having to actually work.

“No I want to stay it’s my fault, and I have this lunch anyway.” He said not turning to look at her but still trying to mop off all the blood. I was watching him wipe the blood carefully from my face. He had such a concerned and determined look upon his face, as if he would never forgive him self for this. She sighed and just told him to move over. He reluctantly stopped moping up the blood and let her pass. She placed some ice on my forehead. It was shocking by now, after looking into Damien’s eyes so many times I had half expected the ice to feel warm. But instead it stung, and made me wince with the biting cold that actually possessed it. After about 30seconds she removed it the bleeding had stopped and she went and grabbed disinfectant from the counter. Then proceed to rub it against the small cut. This stung even more it felt like it was crawling inside of my head and eating away at it, more than actually helping to heal it, after finishing applying it she simply stood up and told us we could leave.

“Um, I need an excuse pass.” I whispered to her before she made it all the way out the door.” She turned to me, almost scowling. “God I’m horrible I just have to keep making more and more peoples live worse.” I thought shamefully as I waited quietly for her to write the pass. She pulled out a piece of paper scribbled something incomprehensible on it, handed it to me and without another word or glance left.

“I’m so sorry I did that to you.” He said silently not making eye contact with me. “I feel so horrible, I guess I really am cursed.” He said even more quietly at the last part. It almost looked as if he would start crying. I wanted to hug him tell him it wasn’t his fault that I would and could never blame him. I wanted to, but of course I didn’t I couldn’t bring myself to comfort the angel, and I hated myself even more as I continued to gaze into the sadness that overtook him.

I looked up at him, even if I was too much of a horrible demon to not allow myself to take away some of his pain, I had to do something. The best I could do was my words, the imperfect words that would surely betray me and say something to make him detest me. “No, it’s not your fault at all.” I said trying to assure him. He simply looked down and smiled at me his blue eye melting away all the worry I had had before of him not wanting to be near me, or that he was sick of me. But still I wanted to do I so desperately longed to hold him close to me. I wanted to absorb the pain that seemed to be slowly over taking him. I could slightly see the golden eye shimmering through the veil of his hair, but he just flipped his hair back so it once again covered his mysterious eye.

“Well at least your hair covers up the cut.” He said trying to make me feel better I think. But I didn’t deserve to feel better I should be the one comforting him not the other way around. “God just hug him tell him you’re their and you want him to know that you wish you could take his pain away.” Again I dismissed my thoughts. I smiled, but I don’t think he saw it as my head was still facing towards the ground.

He walked me to my class after we left the office, but as we reached the door the bell rang. We gave each other slightly exasperated looks before we each turned and started to our next classes, but not before he stopped me and said he’d see me in our Japanese class, he then gave me another one of his breathtaking, life altering embraces.

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