Immortality part 1

PROLOGUE
In this world, nothing is what it seems to be, and questions put forward about life and its circles can never be answered.
Standing at the foot of my bed I watched my mortal body sleeping in an oversized mattress with the covers wrapped around me like a cocoon. I started at the features on my face, following each line and crease captured by both the light patterns emanating from the bedside lamp and the terror of the dream that held my imagination. My eyelids were closed, and yet on the brink of opening wide in the aftermath of awakening from a terrible nightmare. I noted that my mouth was screwed up at the corners, twitching slightly as I tried to turn and never moved. Every feature of my face was exposed to me, and it seemed as though the features were illuminated and deep set. Funnily enough, no one would ever believe how utterly terrifying the mortal face looks when in thrall of a dream that one can’t escape.
Silently I wondered how a mortal could dream the impossible, and yet not believe that anything is possible as long as they have faith. Of course, gazing at my face, I knew that I was an innocent in the world, and so magic and fairy tales would be nothing but wonder; a wish to believe it was possible, while resigning to my fate that reality was the only thing open to me.
I decided to move around. I flew out of the door to my room. I stopped on my landing as I could see my parent’s office, and I could hear them talking in hushed voices about some money problems that had to be sorted out. They were discussing a move to a smaller branch of my father’s business. My mother didn’t seem to want the move, but she also understood that she had to do what was best for the family. After a while, I grew bored of this conversation. For me, money had never been an issue before. It was just none of my business.
I decided to move on again. Because I could fly, I wanted to test the windows; I could fly straight through them! But where was I? Where was the large grocery shop on the corner? Where were the neatly built houses scattered up the road? This looked nothing like the area I had lived in for most of my life. I was alone, and I felt it. Trees surrounded me, and being alone in this particular situation was not a very nice place to be. You see, I was entering a nightmare, and images kept coming back to haunt me.
There was a path leading towards a big house with iron gates closing it in. The house looked Edwardian, and reminded me of a psycho-thriller where a lonely man waits for a female victim to entice into his home before he locks her into a room and slowly and cruelly murders her.
Isn’t the human mind a funny thing? How can one small image be totally distorted, and throw up many other images; usually violent ones? I laughed at this, because I could imagine a psychiatrist deciphering this mind, and explaining about the human nature inside each of us to imagine the worst in all situations; the fantasy of dark images, and the release of pheromones that give you the important energy rushes similar to being in love. What is the point in being human? I laughed even more at this – I wasn’t even human was I? I was.... ALIVE!
At the side of this house was a large oak door with black iron bolts holding the door the arch frame. I thought I’d better try the house. I floated to the floor, and began to walk up towards the gate. It grew bigger as I went closer, and suddenly I was at the lock, and it towered above me. There were two eagles on the posts at either side of the gate, and to me they looked like gargoyles watching and waiting for innocent children to skip up to the gate so they can capture them and take them to the wolf for feeding. As I wondered how the gates would open without tiring myself out with my preternatural strength, they swung open with a creak, and the sound of the gates hitting the posts reverberated through the forest.
I walked up to the side door and stopped. There was a face staring at me from the top window. That face looked so familiar to me, and yet I knew instantly I had never seen it before. Well, of course I might have seen it as the person walked past me in the street. Then again, I'm sure I would have remembered a face like that if I had seen it.
The man’s face was pale and smooth, and his dark hair rested gently on his shoulders. He looked in all instances like a ghost; determined to scare me into going back home. But his eyes shook off that thought immediately; they were like blue crystals, sparkling and intense. They appeared to have a depth to them that I could very easily become lost in. As they stared into mine. I sensed that the person behind them yearned for something, and needed an endless search of emptiness before he found it. So, what unearthly qualities did I possess that made him want to stare at me?
Emanating form this man, or maybe it could have been this house, was cold electricity that surrounded the area. I shivered, and without thinking about it first, began to make my way towards the attic, and the face at the window. I stopped again at the door, and, taking a deep breath I pushed, and it swung open.
On my way through the door, I passed a dark hallway with strange ornaments scattered on pedestals, lit only by a few oil lamps. The whole house was from another age, and I definitely felt like I was in dream as I gazed up at the top of a doorway to see Bell’s “Rose” illuminated by eerie gold lights. I was amazing to recollect this picture, as I’d only seen it once at school, but I could still remember this picture, as I’d only seen it once at school, but I could still remember the vivid colours, and the striking image of the deep red rose set on a blue background. As I looked up at this one painting in a darkened room, it seemed even more beautiful, and I never once wondered what could possess someone to choose this one over all others.
As the painting was above a certain door, I assumed that going through it would lead me to the attic. I was right. I ascended the stars with an immature sense of triumph, which slowly turned into nervous apprehension as I neared the top. The attic room was easy to find, too. There was a short hallway, painted in deep mahogany to match the oak door at the end. As I stood in the doorway of this room, my eyes could glance across the well-lit space inside. I noticed that there wasn’t much there. A bed occupied the space just to the right of me, and a desk was in a small alcove almost underneath the window. A white, circular rug lay on the floor, which gave the room an impression of a vast, cold an empty space, but with hope and optimism creeping around the violet walls.
The man was there. He stood next to a photo on the desk, staring out at the colourful array of hills and a meadow across the gate. Following his gaze, I noticed figures on the hills, moving loser to the river on the outskirts of the woods. Then, my eyes were drawn back to the photo on the desk. At first, I thought it might have been his mother, but the resemblance was so slight I figured I must have been mistaken, and it was a lover of his or an old friend.
“No, she is my mother. You were right in your assumption,” he said, without turning round.
‘How could he have known that?’ I thought. ‘I never spoke those words…’
“You don’t have to.” He turned round at this point. “Worlds don’t mean anything when there is a need as great as ours.”
I could see him clearly now, and I could also see that he wasn’t moving his mouth! However, I felt a connection with this man, and I sensed that he must have felt the same. I looked at his outfit, and he too was from another age. He wore a white shirt, which hung loosely over his tight, black trousers, and he stood at the window facing me in a pose that made me feel invaded. He had his right foot in front of the left, and his hands rested at his side, making him look so calm and composed. He stared right into the depths of my soul. I began to feel scared now, but something inside me made me want to stay and find out why I felt connected to this man, and why he spoke of a great need.
“What need is this?” I asked in my head.

He held out his hand, and strangely I took it. I’d never felt affection really, and to find myself doing this was amazing. He led me to the window.
“You’ve seen these people. They’re after us Kali…”
“But, my name isn’t Kali!”
“Please, do not deny yourself. They’ll find us, and then end our suffering unless we talk, now. You see, we’re both searching for an end; an end where we feel complete and alive, but neither of us have found it yet. Together, we have the power to conquer all, because of the love we hold inside.
His voice was monotone, as it was a rehearsed speech, given time and time again. It had a soothing, hypnotic effect though, and I began to feel like he really believed in what he was saying. Even though he was obviously crazy, the words he was speaking seemed to ring true. I suppose in some way I really must have been searching. Doesn’t everybody search for perfection in different ways? I know that I do, but somehow I never expected to find it.
He spoke of a perfect world, and of perfect partners; of perfect love and perfect trust; of destiny and circles; of rebirth and time, and of a world without suffering and pain, where insubstantial emotions are not seen, and people are free from constraints. As he spoke, his eyes flashed, and I was completely under his spell. I felt like I loved him, or at least I felt an emotion I can only describe as love, because with a socially constructed label, it is impossible to actually understand the feeling. And, how could I feel love when I’d only seen him that day? Still, I understood him, and that was good enough for me.
“So you see, Kali. We are the lovers who are destined to be together until the closing of time, and nothing can change our chosen path into a free and perfect world.”
I was still holding his hand through all of this, and I felt like I belonged with him. Our hands seemed to melt together, and it felt so natural when he took my lips in his, and kissed me with a sense of urgency.
Suddenly, he pushed me away with such force that I flew across the room and crashed into the wall near the bed. I groaned, and landed in a heap on the floor. I was in so much pain I couldn’t even begin to think about why he would do something like this. The door crashed open, and two of the figures I saw walking down towards the river stood staring at us.
“Well. My child, it looks like I have found you. Raziel, will you take Kali and make her your servant; one who is loyal to the hearts core? We shall dispose of your mortal body after the breaking of the circle.” This was relayed by one of the men, who, strangely enough, were talking in the normal way. Was the bond that Raziel and I shared real?
The man; my man, clenched his fists and took a step closer to them.
“No, I will not. You claim that your teachings give perfection, and I believe I have found it with Kali. We have shared love that is true enough to forsake you and your elders, and depart for the perfect world.”
The elder’s lips tensed. “So, Raziel, you wish to renounce us and our traditional teachings? You want real perfection? Very well. It is yours.”
With speed I had never seen before, the two men rushed at us. I could see nothing of Raziel as one of the men blocked my view, but I could feel his determination and strength to fight to the death in order to salvage everything he ever believed in. I closed my eyes, and I felt the other elder’s hands lock around my throat. I struggled, but the man was too strong. As his hands squeezed tighter, all the life began to ebb away from me. I gasped for breath, but it was too late. The last thing I heard was Raziel’s voice in my head:
“Kali, wish for perfection. It’s the greatest wish of all to have.”


I awoke with the sweat glistening on my body; all traces of the terrifying nightmare forgotten as the light to my room was switched on. My day was the same as it’s always been, save for one difference. I had a strange set of thoughts circling my had:
‘What would it be like to find the one person who was destined to be your partner until the closing of time? What if there is no such person? Can you really tell how the world will move? And how many times can one ask these questions?
But…what if there is a perfect world, where pain and suffering are worthless emotions, and knowledge is for the taking; a world where people have the one they truly; love? Isn’t that the greatest wish of all to have?’

ONE
“Sara, please! Can you take your bags up to the room so we can move more furniture in?”
Sara was stood gazing into the hallway of her new house. She didn’t like it, and it was beginning to show. In itself, the house wasn’t bad, but it was so different from what she’d been used to. Sara was what some might call spoilt, although she was shyer than other’s who lived the same lifestyle as she did. She came from a middle class family, and all her life she’d been surrounded by luxury.
Born on May 24th, and baptised by three Mary’s (St Mary’s Church, her mother, and her godmother), her mother, a speaker of religion at their local university called her Sara, after the reformed goddess of Kali. Her mother always delighted in telling the story of how Kali was sent to fight Raktabija, who was destroying the towns. Raktabija was indestructible; after every hit, his spilt blood turned into a replica of the evil monster. But, Kali held Raktabija upside down and drank every last drop of blood he had in his body. He was then easy to slay. Years later, on the 24th May, three Mary's travelled to France, and baptised Sara, who was thought to be the reincarnation of Kali. It was also thought that Kali symbolised rebirth and strength. The story of Sara’s own birth was one of strength and hope.
Sara’s grandmother had only ever had boys, and both Sara’s parents desperately wanted a girl. After having three boys, Sara’s mother became pregnant again. Her hopes were dashed when scans confirmed another boy. After a further two sons, the house was overrun with footballs and dirty trainers. Sara’s mother consulted a healer. Neither parent really believed in spiritual assertations, but Mary was desperate. The healer told her that her wish would be granted if she held one of the stones she had close to her heart. The stones, he claimed, came from far away lands, shipped in about a year ago. They possessed powers to grant wishes through the faith of its maker. The healer also said that one of the stones was specifically for Mary herself.
Sara’s mother laughed at his insistence that the stone was meant for someone pure at heart, but a disbeliever, and one who was to enter at that particular time. The conditions were that the child she wanted must be the seventh. Although Mary laughed, she bought one anyway. It seemed to both Mary and William a strange coincidence that she became pregnant almost a week later, and it was a girl.
At first, Sara became ill with pneumonia, and it seemed inevitable that she would die. But Sara was strong, and she lived up her namesake by recovering. Throughout her fourteen years, she began to think about who she was, and where her place was in the world. Her thoughts revolved around her destiny, and a wish for perfection. Until her way of life had to change, that is…
Sara’s father worked for a large power company, and so with two incomes, they could afford to live comfortably. Then, one day, it all changed. Her father was climbing a ladder when it slipped from under him, causing him to crash to the floor. He was never able to walk again. Of course, his job couldn’t be resumed, and so he had to take a managerial position in a smaller branch in the countryside, taking his family with him. At first, his family didn’t want to move, but they soon became excited about the prospect of living a new life with different things to do and see.
Sara, on the other hand, was apprehensive of the move. She believed that her life would change too much when she entered that place. But, her mother dismissed these claims as part of her adolescence, and she was made to carry on as if it didn’t bother her. At school, Sara felt as if her friends were changing their attitudes towards her, and she could feel their warmth towards her start to disappear. She knew that they thought she was being selfish because she had heard them talking about her inability to understand why her father couldn’t take another job in the same plant. She felt isolated, as no one would see that her aversion to moving was enormous. Even Sara herself felt like she was being selfish, but she just couldn’t help her feelings. She just didn’t want her life to change as it would in that house.
All the same, the move went ahead, and Sra found that saying goodbye to her friends and other people she’d known all her life wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined it to be. Of course, there was some crying, but Sara often wondered whether or not most of it was one-sided, and that she was going to miss them far more than they’d miss her.
Sara stood gazing into the hallway of her new house. She didn’t like it, but she resided herself in her bedroom, and set out to cope with it. When all their possessions were unpacked, Sara excused herself, and went to explore her new surroundings.
Walking down the lane, she glanced at the Victorian houses like her own; she noticed the trees and flowers surrounding the houses that were so unlike her old place. Sara felt like Clara from Heidi; amazed at the beauty of the atmosphere, and yet embarrassed to be amazed because she’d been on so many holidays to rural areas before. She carried on walking, and soon she stood at the top of a small hill. From here, she could see a vast array of different coloured meadows and fields leading off from a river that travelled through the woods. At first, Sara thought about following the river until she found a clearing. But a strange sense of foreboding ran through her stomach. Although she couldn’t work out the reason why, she decided to turn back, and find her way home.
The next day was Sara’s first day at the school. Sara was slightly nervous, but quietly confident that she would make new friends, as she’d never found it difficult before. The school was well built, with marble steps leading up to an archway professing (Education for all) on its tiles. Walking though the doors, Sara headed straight for reception to enrol for her classes.
As the time came for her first class, Sra was the first one there, so she took a seat at the back. She waited for people to drift in. At first, no one seemed to notice her, and she thought it odd that the new one was ignored like this. However, later on in the lesson, people began to turn to ask questions about herself. Her lack of experience in life soon faded the bombarding interest in her. It looked like they too found her boring and selfish; just a new kid with no friends.
Very soon, Sara began to feel incredibly lonely. With no one to talk to at school, she was left to find her way herself, and she grew more and more introverted. Her family life was no better. Her parents wanted her to forget about her problems and told her that they would soon pass. Because they had many acquaintances in the community, and so did their sons, they couldn’t understand why she wasn’t fitting in. Sara yearned for just one person who could take away her pain…

TWO
What is to become of my life? For four years I have been on my own, searching for an end to this damned existence. But how can I take a life so close to my own?! Pacing the floor of my new house, I am afraid that they will come soon to carry out their pledge, as I fail to finish mine…
My new house is nice. Quaint and old like my old home, and yet new enough to forget my past and the horrors of the world I was brought into. I cannot say what has drawn me to this place, but I certainly hope that this is where I can end it all, and change the future. I pray that my mother’s soul is still with me, guiding me to make the right decisions. Only through this pentagram can I feel her inside, as I have nothing else of hers to touch.
If I can remember, that day when she gave me this was the day that changed my life. I had just returned from my tutor’s office after another gruelling lecture on why education is so important to one’s life. My mother was sat on her stool by the fire singing to herself. She looked so sad those last few day, and she would never tell me why. Again, I asked her, and her reply, as usual, was ‘My dear son, life is so short, and happiness is often hard to come by in times like this.’ I could never understand what she meant, but my mother was the dearest thing to me, and if she didn’t want to tell me, then I wouldn’t push any further.
She started to cry, and that hurt me so much to see my rock break down. She was my mother, and I loved her dearly. It hurt me to see her cry like that. I walked over to her, and stroked her hair. She wiped her eyes, took my hand and brought me round to face her. I knelt on the floor and I knew that she would tell me what was happening.
To this day I can remember those words like it was yesterday. The last words my mother spoke to me pierced my heart, and will hang with me forever.
“My dear son, very soon something will happen that is totally beyond my control. Things have happened in this life that have been down to your father and who he works for, and…and you have been at the centre of things. Your father wishes to extend your education, and this means you have to go away for a while.”
At that time, I didn’t know what she meant. My father, sending me away? I couldn’t believe it. And why did my mother not try to stop it? Crying, I flung myself on her and held on tight. Hearing my thoughts, my mother pushed me away a little so she could explain more.
“Kain, please. Your father couldn’t help doing what he’s done, and you have to understand that. He had no choice. And I tried too, really I did. I used all of my powers to stop this happening, but I couldn’t. I want you to be strong, and I want you to remember that whatever happens I will always be there for you. Here, take this with you.’ She took off her necklace and placed it around my neck, “Piece by piece my soul will be brought into the stone, and I can guide you on any decision you have to make. But I also want you to remember that I will always love you, and whatever choice you must take you must follow your heart. You must do it for love, and the power within will conquer all.”
My mother’s heart-wrenching speech was too confusing for me to understand it, and she hadn’t really explained much at all, but I knew I didn’t want to leave my family and home, especially not my mother. Crying louder, I jugged her again, hoping that she would change her mind and keep me with her. She was crying by then, and we held each other tightly for what seemed like ages until the door crashed open.
Two men and a lady stood in the doorway. I recognised one of them as one of my father’s clients, and I wondered what was to happen to me as I had the sinking feeling that these people who were about to take me away. I held my mother tight, hoping that she would do the same, but with a sigh she let go of me, and pushed me further to these people. In that one moment I hated her and my father for destroying my life, but the hatred I felt turned into despair at the thought of hearing people behind. The woman held me, and began to lead me away. Of course I struggled, anxious to go back to save my mother who was now being held at gunpoint by the two men. Her grip was firm and strong, and my arm began to ache. I couldn’t move anywhere except in the direction of the door. That was the last time I ever felt love for a single person.
Since then, my life has gone from bad to worse. I wish I had realised so many years ago what these people were like. Maybe that way I wouldn’t be in hiding now. I’m still pacing the floor, only now I’m thirsty. Another excuse to curse my life because of who the elders turned me into. I feel like a monster; I am a monster, forced to walk the streets searching for an end to someone’s innocence. If I had realised their secret, they could have destroyed me before they had the chance to take away my humanity, and I’d be safe, with my mother.
I keep mentioning my mother. After I was taken, I kept wondering how often she was thinking about me, and how often she wanted to come and see me. Day after night after day I sat in my room waiting for a note or call asking how I was, and telling me how they were doing; an innocent child, as I was, sat at the window in a mansion full of monsters, staring out of the window for the whistle of the postman. It never came.
I became a lonely child. Slowly, they began to change me, and my innocence turned into a wise understanding of the horrific nature of the elders. I hated them and their teachings, but was unable to escape their clutches. I was moved into a larger room, which was to be my study area. My lessons started off in the normal way, with Geometry, Latin, and English, but after that, I was taken on field trips across our village; field trips where I was given the opportunity to experience ‘hands-on’ learning. I learned that the elders kept many people in business: the hospital, the police, and the undertakers. Their teaching was that each of us strives to taste the everlasting. Through the blood of innocents, we can learn their knowledge and trade, and doing so, we learn about the one who is destined to follow our paths in this cruel charade.
I searched for people to tell my finding to, but the elders were always one step ahead of me, and took away any opportunity to do so. I did tell one woman once. She was mourning the death of her husband, and I had seen them take him the night before. I spilled out my secrets to her, hoping that she would believe, and help me. But, she humiliated me. She laughed in my face and told me I was mad for even thinking such a thing. Without the elders, she said, she couldn't afford to pay for a service, and she would be eternally grateful. It came as no surprise to learn that she ‘disappeared’ a few weeks after this event. I, as usual, was punished by being locked in my little tower upstairs, only I actually preferred to be in there because I could try and clear my head of their treachery and lies, and have an escape from this hell I was forced into.
I was fourteen when they took me fully, and instilled in me this vile nature I have now. I spent two years receiving my education as any boy would, with maybe a little extra-curricular learning of the elders and their life. And then, the horror began. At first, I was taken to the leader of the elders, who told me that I was here because my father had been wrong. He seemed so pleasant when he was telling me that I was theirs now, and soon I would forget about my family. I felt so angry at his patronising tone, I can remember trying to break free from their grip so that I could grasp hold of his shoulders and rip his head clean off. After than, I also learned that they could hear thoughts like my mother could. The elder’s who held me tightened their grip, and the leader laughed and told me that I had a lot to learn.
I was then taken away. I was handed a green robe to wear instead of my normal clothes. I was pushed into the centre where a bright light shone form one of the alcoves in the hall. From there, it seemed like the elders who help me disappeared. I was free, and yet I was still trapped inside my circle. I looked all around at the sea of menacing faces; wondering what was to become of me. There were so many of them. Most of them I’d never seen before, but there were some I saw every day, and others I only recognised from my father’s office. I was embarrassed at being so exposed, and I felt like there was no one who could give me comfort. I was crying, whirling round looking for an escape. Comfort was only to be found in my mind. I sank to the floor with my head in my hands. As I lay there, a shadow was cast over me, and I looked up to find one of the younger ones standing before me.
Thinking he was going to help me, I stood up and held on to him. He stared into my eyes and pushed me away, roughly. I knew now that this was it. There was no turning back. I was going to change whether I liked it or not. He grabbed my by the shoulders. Staring into my eyes he took a deep breath. I thought he would kill me, but instead he cried out and summoned up the clan’s god:
“My God, Kali, goddess of creation and destruction, whom I pray to with all my heart. I pray to you tonight to give me the strength and courage to alter my life on the path to immortality that I have pledged to take. Kain, the child I have before me, has volunteered to follow my path, and create the fulfilling of my own pledge to you.
“Seven years ago I was asked by your spirit to bring destruction of life to all those who do not believe in us. I had seven years to find one person to follow the path of the elders. On this night I have found the child who has the heart to absorb the words of life, and who has the mentality to follow the path to the end.”
He grabbed my shoulders more roughly than before, and pulled me to him. I had never been more terrified that I was at that time. He grabbed my throat and broke the skin. He drank form me and I felt so weak. I sank to the floor, and I can remember my head spinning. The faces surrounding me blurred into a swirling mass of lights. As I lay there, I imagined a scene so far away from my reality; somewhere where I could see the aurora borealis flashing over a snow capped mountain flashed before my eyes. I felt I was going to die. I would never see my family again. It was over...
Suddenly a chalice was thrust into my hands, and was pushed up to my face. I was made to drink this vile liquid. I was so weak I had no choice but to do as I was asked. As the warm liquid slid down my throat, I gagged, but then began to regain my lost energy. It was like magic. I looked down at the glass I was holding. The liquid was a deep red colour. The shock I felt when I realised that I was drinking blood, and that’s what the elder had been doing to me, was immeasurable. The sea of faces still stared, and, they must have seen the whole thing. They also must have enjoyed my disgust at this despicable act. I threw the remaining liquid onto the floor, but it was too late – the magic had taken hold, and I was a grotesque; a monster – I was like them. I was called Raziel, after the eighteen Dark Angels, and was instructed that my birth name was no longer important, as my new life was now my only life.
Of course, there was no way I was going to live it the way I was taught to do. Subjecting people to a life of murder, pain and mortal suffering was nothing to relish. I vowed to live far away from this world, and begin a life on my own. I moved from state to state, studying people, searching for that one person who could end my life for me. All this I had to contend with, as well as escaping from the elders who were following me, trying to trace my steps and find any offspring I might have. Seven years was all I had, and in that short time, I was not going to draw anyone into the life I have led all those years ago.
As a write this, I often wish that my past life can be erased, and that I can live a mortal life with mortal emotions, but since my mother, love is an emotion that has passed from my heart. Once, I thought I felt love again, but quickly learnt that that awful, ghastly, repulsive thirst that now ravages my existence was all that it was.
I learned from the elders after this wasteful death that my family had died; their grief of losing their only son proved to be too great for their hearts, and a lonely death awaited them. And in that instance when I cruelly took that girl’s life from her in order to fuel my heart I realised I had become exactly what I had vowed not to be; an ogre. I couldn’t even punish myself, for I didn’t have the strength. The only way I could cope with my actions was to continue to study the world without letting people in. Although I still search for the one who can change this, I will always believe that I would rather take my last breath before I allow another struggle to survive as I have done.

So now my own immoral hand has written my life. I hope that after I depart form this world this will be read. I have every intention of drawing everyone away from the traps of the elders, and make them aware of just how cautious you have to be…
One final thing before I lay may pen to rest. I hope that my mother can still read my thoughts to know how much I yearn for her control of my soul when I am gone from this world of monsters…

THREE
People surrounded Sara, and yet she was totally alone. She’d been at her new school almost a year now; long enough by any standards to find new friends, but Sara still hadn’t fitted in. After the exam she’d just had, everyone crowded round, congratulating or consoling each other. Sara was aside from the group, trudging towards the gate with all knowledge that no one cared how she did. To top it all off, it was raining.
Walking through the streets towards her house, she began to think about her life, and how things had changed. A year ago she was happy, with friends, in a nice are, and now she was alone in strange world. Instead of going home, she decided to go back to the place where she felt uneasy before. She turned the corner at the bottom of her street, and crossed lane after lane of quaint Victorian houses surrounded by trees and flowers. As she walked, she thought about what she could do to make things easier for herself, but each train of thought ended with the notion that she was just a failure, and there was nothing she could do. She was bordering on the brink of depression, and all her emotions were churning her insides; eating away at her heart little by little.
Lost in her own world, she never realised where she was walking, until she found herself at the clearing in the woods, and at the foot of a small cobbled path. Walking up to it, she came to a driveway with large iron gates enclosing a large Edwardian house. Sara stopped, and stared at this enormous house. For some reason, she felt anxious about why she was here, and yet she didn’t want to leave because something might happen while she was gone. Sara imagined that one day she could own a house like that, and have parties, and invite so many people and … there she stopped, right in the middle of her realisation that she had no one to invite.
At that moment, a door opened inside the grounds of the house, and footsteps were heard near to the gate. Sara jumped, and her breath quickened. She was so close to being caught, and she didn’t want some old man to murder her for trespassing. She ran back down the lane, across the street down a separate cobbled path, following the river until she reached the streets of houses near her school. Gasping for breath she sat down on a bench and sighed. She had never been so scared in her life, and yet she’d gone exploring at home before. She considered going back there to find out exactly who it was who owned the house, but she still knew that she was afraid of something. The house seemed somehow familiar to her and a cold presence was taking place in the back of her mind, nagging her to remember the attraction to this place. As the gasps subsided, the shock faded, and the depression sank in again, and once more she wished herself back home.
Next day, Sara sat at her desk trying to complete an essay the class had been set for a revision session. It was difficult to concentrate as other students had decided not to revise, and were making a noise by laughing and shouting to one another across the room. They were all having fun by laughing at those who were working without the supervision of a lecturer, and Sara was trying to keep calm by looking at her work.
Quite unexpectedly, the door opened. A girl stood in the doorway, gazing around the room in contempt. All the students quickly sat down, but they were too late, and the lecturer was furious.
“Sit down! All of you! I want you working on that essay right now, and I don't want to see another head raise from their paper until its all done. I left you alone for five minutes, and what do I find? Four people working, and the rest disturbing those who obviously agree that obtaining a reasonable education is important to one’s life. I don’t suppose anyone would like to tell me who was responsible for this uproar?”
A long pause followed, and no one moved from their seats.
“No. Didn’t think so. He turned to face the sour-faced girl who walked in before him. “I’m sorry Kittie. Your first day wasn’t supposed to be like this. Class, this is Kittie. She transferred from across the city, and I want you all to make her feel welcome. Here’s your book, and your essay title. Complete it in your own time, you know, just to bring you up to date with the class, and take a seat next to Sara.”
The teacher smiled, and the whole class stared at the girl who walked towards the back of the class as she stared ahead of her until she reached her seat. For the next ten minutes, the class worked steadily in silence while the teacher looked around to make sure his orders were followed. Sara felt her face burning as she tried to complete her essay without drawing any more attention to either her or the strangely dressed ‘Kittie’ sat next to her.
Through the corners of her eyes, Sara could see the way this girl bunched the flared cuffs of her black jumper over her hands while she was writing in her book. She noted the crosses down the sleeves, and the circle surrounding a star she held as a necklace round her neck. She also saw the way her purple velour tie-dye skirt draped over her long legs to half cover her large, thick, black boots with silver buckles holding them together.
‘Kittie. Such a nice name.’ Sara thought. ‘So… unique.’ She wondered how Kittie could make one necklace look so striking against her jumper. She must ask what it means soon. But then she decided against that thought. Sara knew that she didn’t have enough courage to do so. Her nose stud was fascinating, too. To Sara, someone so different from the mainstream who had the courage to hold their head up high while they rebelled was amazing. For the past year, Sara had begun to whish she could turn into a creature like that; a person so different from herself.
“Sara!” a voice cut through her train of thought as a knife would a piece of cheese “Have you finished that essay or are you going to spend you time staring at Kittie?”
Sara’s face, already a bright red, became a deeper shade of purple as she was shaken out of her trance. Muttering, ‘no sir’, she lowered her embarrassed face to her work, knowing that everyone was staring at her, including Kittie.
Then, a beeping was heard inside the desk. The class looked up expectantly, and smiled when he took his pager from the drawer, took his jacket and walked out of the door. Sara watched as the rest of the class sat motionless, watching the door for signs of his return. Sure enough, he poked his head round the frame. He checked to see if anyone had moved, looking at each individual child which a glace that told them he knew what they were up to.
“Five minutes,” he said simply. “Five minutes and that is all. I want no noise, no movement, and especially no unfinished essays at the end of this lesson. Glad you all understand.” And with that, he was gone.
Sara knew that the rest of the class would now use this opportunity to catch up on the gossip they’d missed out on the last time they were interrupted. She hoped that everyone would forget the incident from before, and resume with their irrelevant gossip. However, they turned, all of them in one circle, surrounding Sara and Kittie in a sea of faces intent on insulting either one of them She looked at Kittie, who was staring back at the class with eyes that showed no fear.
Sara on the other hand, was beginning to breathe a little heavier, and shallower. She glanced up only occasionally to see if they would say anything, or turn away. There was just too many of them, Sara thought; far too many if them to ignore. She was trapped, and totally exposed.
“That your girlfriend then? One asked.
Sara said nothing.
“You fancy other girls from your old school?” another shouted.
Kittie glared at him, but said nothing.
“Well, seeing as I’ve only known you this year, I’d better keep a close eye on my own girlfriend, eh Sara.”
Sara kept her head down through the taunting, and tried to think happy thoughts through this. She wished that her tutor would come back, and they would all be in trouble. Mostly though, she wished she could stand up and shout back to them to let them know she was hurting. Luckily, she was saved the embarrassment of doing this.
Kittie slapped her hands on the table and stood up suddenly. She faced each on in turn for what Sara thought was ages, and then began to speak.
“Right, I’ve been here almost an hour, and already I’ve grown sick of your behaviour. You’re fifteen, and I think you should all have grown out this obsession with a person's sexuality. In my opinion, I think it might be better if you turned round and discussed whatever is the latest hot thing this month or week or whatever, and stop asking pointless questions that neither of us are going to answer.”
Sara held her breath. To talk back to these was near suicidal. She kept her head down and waited to hear laughter, or the sound of a slap as it connected to Kittie’s face. None of that came. One of the girls decided to try their luck with a sarcastic comment that she was going to regret.
“Are you ashamed to answer? Is that it? Pretending to be all intelligent and smug, when you’re hiding behind those trashy clothes secrets that probably shouldn’t be kept. Did your mother bring you up right?”
This was met with a few sniggers from the class, which subsided when they saw Kittie’s face.
Her green eyes flashed, and she stared into her accuser’s eyes. Sara wondered why this girl slowly sat down in her seat and looked up at Kittie.
“My mother brought me up just fine thank you. She taught me never to insult those I don’t know, and she also taught me never to be ashamed of things I might or might not have or be. I’m sure that my boyfriend, who lives with my parents and I, would like to hear you suggest that my feelings towards him are not what he thinks they are. Next time you wish to hurt someone, think about how it would feel if they could reveal things to hurt you. Like where you got those earrings from…”
This girl burst into tears, and ran from the room. Sara saw that the rest of the class had begun to turn away, afraid of what she might say to them. Inwardly, Sara smiled, pleased that the incident was over, and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about the strange way Kittie rose to her defence without even knowing her. Sara watched as Kittie sat down, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed, as if standing up to the class had drained all her energy
Right on cue, the teacher walked in the door and smiled at the rows of students laboriously working on his paper he set them. But, this wasn’t before he noticed the flushed face of Sara, the angry face of Kittie, and the worried faces of the rest of the class. Sara knew he’d seen them, and wondered whether he could guess why everyone was behaving the way they were. Taking a side-glance at Kittie, Sara saw that she had almost finished her essay in that short space of time, and was staring at her work like she was deep in thought, but not about Lord Byron’s poetry.
The lesson ended, and Sara walked to the front with the rest of the class, placing her essay on the pile. She hoped that everyone would have forgotten the incident, and she could escape the crowds quick enough to make it to her next class in peace. Unfortunately, she only reached the end of the lockers when a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards. Sara gasped, and turned round to see Kittie surveying her with a look that turned her soul cold.
“Sara. They’ll not bother you anymore. Don’t run round avoiding them. You’re going to history, right? Do you mind if I walk with you”
Sara shook her head. She was confused. She’d been at school almost a year, and each person who’d spoken to Sara had turned away to snigger behind her back. All the time she’d been at the school she’d yearned for just one person to help her prove she was the same person that had moved from the city. Now, she realised that Kittie was the one who was going to do it. Although it was comforting to know that someone cared enough to teat her like she was actually alive, it was strange to think that a person so different from her upbringing could make the sort of friend she wanted.
“You sure you don’t mind?” Kittie asked, disturbing her thoughts. “You can talk you know. Despite my appearance, I don’t bite.” Kittie smiled at her, and Sara gave a watery smile back, but something inside her snapped, and she found her voice coming back to her to start her off on finding her identity she’d lost over the year.
“No, I don’t mind. I’d…I’d prefer it actually. I guess it beats wandering round by myself.”
“That’s better. And if you need anything else, even a revision partner, just ask, Okay?”
“Okay. Umm..Thanks.”
They walked on in silence, and from then on, Sara knew she’d found a friend, although she wasn’t to realise just how much she’d need this particular one until her life was spinning out of control…

FOUR

Sara sat on the kitchen stool drinking coffee and watching her father reading the morning paper. She wanted to ask him again if it was all right for Kittie to stay for dinner that night. This was a new school, and it was the first time she’d mentioned having a friend. They’d seemed pleased enough, and now they wanted to meet her. She knew they would like her just as she had, but she was also worried that they might think she was odd due to the way she dressed and the way she spoke her mind regardless of any consequences it might have.
She heard the youngest of her six brothers clump down the stairs, and she laughed when he entered the kitchen and walked into two of the stools that were jutting out from under the side of the breakfast bar. He scowled at her, and grunted his good morning to his father before making his breakfast and sitting beside her.
“So, your friend’s coming tonight isn’t she?”
Sara looked at him slyly. He’d never willingly started a conversation before unless he was up to something.
“Yes. At seven.”
“It’s Kittie. Right?”
“Yes, why are you asking?”
“Oh, no reason. And she’s seventeen?”
“Yes, just. What’s with the questions?”
“Just wondering that’s all…”
“Hmmm…” Sara knew that Paul had something on his mind
“And she’s pretty?”
Her father put the paper down, and raised his eyebrows at her brother, but smirked at him before continuing with the paper.
“Umm…I’m not sure. It…It depends how you’d define pretty.”
“Cute, like your old mates. I certainly didn’t mind them. I always like to see if they’re good enough for you.”
Sara stared at her brother, and pursed her lips.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. She’s not that type of girl, so you’ll just sit there and be nice to her. I’m not having you misbehaving Paul. You hear me?”
“Me, misbehave? Please. You’re overreacting as usual. Getting worked up over a little joke. And stop staring at me like that. Putting me off my breakfast.”

.....