Have Faith: Book 1: Meeting Kieth

Have Faith
Book 1: Meeting Kieth

Prologue

Excerpt from the diary of Faith Merrikton

Dear Diary, June 26, 2006
It’s been a year now since everything happened. I found an abandoned warehouse downtown to stay in, and I’ve been able o get along great. I’ve still got my job, even though I blow most of my money at Hot Topic. But everything still sucks. I’m so sick of everybody. They can’t accept me, and I’m all alone. They all avoid me, and I overhear people talking about me. “She’s so cold.”, “She’s a freak.”, “She an outsider, not welcome.” I hear them all say. But they have no idea what they’re talking about. They have no idea what I’ve been through. They can all go to Hell. Especially those idiots who think that they can drag me to some church service. I’m really sick of them.

Chapter 1: Faith, the freshman

As I walk through the halls of the high school, people stare at me. I’m actually quite used to it. But, it is the first day of school, so I’m thinking to myself, ‘Have more rumors started over the summer? Is there something wrong with the way I look? Why are people staring so intently today?’ Ah, well, I’ll just brush it off. I spent an hour making all the chains on my bondage pants perfect, making sure my hair was spiked perfectly, my blood-red tie, unwrinkled, and my accessories all aligned. All the blacks matched, and my make-up wasn’t smudged, so obviously, there was nothing wrong with the way I looked. I think there’s just something wrong with them. Screw those people, though, I had better get to my locker before I’m late to first period.
I continue down the hall, ignoring the not-so-subtle glances from my classmates, all of whom probably remember me from last year. I find my locker at the very beginning of the hall, lucky number 13.Which is good for me. I get my stuff out of my bag and shove the rest into my locker, then rush to Ms. Granger’s class.
She greets me as if I am just any other human being and shows me to my seat, with a big, kind smile on her face, just like Mom’s or Darrik’s… Mom and Darrik…both of whom gave me a ‘Good luck!’ this morning. Everything’s turning out to be great today, almost perfect… but… it’s not real.
All this is just a day dream, a hope in my mind that I know will be crushed the moment I step through those ugly, steel doors that lead into Salem City High School. As they say, out of the frying pan and into the fire. Out of grade school and into my freshman year. Just more crap for me to deal with. Here’s how my day is really going…
I try to subtly walk through the doors without being noticed (ha, so much for that!). Instantly, heads turn. They’re not staring at me; they’re glaring at me, glaring at me with pure hatred that I have done nothing to deserve. Some guy that I vaguely remember from last year approaches me.
“Hey, Faithless!” he uses the typical insulting nickname that people use for me, “You still owe fifteen bucks for that weed I gave you last October at that 666 party! I want it, and I want it now.”
I continue walking, looking at my feet and ignoring him. I have the money, but I need it to buy some groceries.
“Are you listening to me? Just because you got rid of your drug addiction, doesn’t mean you’ve gotten rid of your debt!”
“I don’t have any money.” I lied.
“Then steal some from your mum!” he yelled at me. He had hit the wrong button.
“Would you SCREW OFF?!” I yelled at him, grabbing him by his neck and slamming him into the wall. I reach to punch him, but a hand grabbed my arm firmly. I turned around to see that it was Mrs. Hikedson, our school’s guidance counselor.
“Let go of John, please, Faith.” I let go. “Please come with me.” she said calmly. I go with her.
She takes me to her office and sits me down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.
“Listen, Faith, I know you’ve been through a lot in the past, but you’ve got to realize that you can’t go making trouble on the first day of school.” I nod, acknowledging what she says. “I’ll let it slide this time. It’ll be our little secret. But next time, I’m telling the principle. Okay?” I nod again. “Good. You may leave.” I stood up, gave her a small hug, and left the room.
Mrs. Hikedson is a shrink, but she’s the only shrink that’s good, and one of the few people I feel I can trust. She’s always been there for me, and understands me. I’d be a lot worse off if it weren’t for her.
I hike down the hall, ignoring people’s eyes. I know they’re on me because of the way I look. I spent no more than twenty minutes getting ready. My bondage pants are a faded black, definitely not matching my brand new, overly baggy t-shirt with an alien on the front, and are completely beat up. Some of the chains are missing, others broken, the bottoms are frayed and one of the pockets has a hole. I have no tie and my accessories (I have more of them than I do meals) are all messed up. My hair is strewn every which way, due to low-quality gel. My make up is the only thing that matches the me in my dream sequence, completely perfect. I’m entirely self conscious and miserable. My locker is one away from my dream locker. I get locker number 12. This sucks. I grab my notebook (which is overflowing with drawings and the book that I’m trying to get published) and rush to Mr.Pallan’s classroom. He greets me with a scowl and mutters something angry under his breath as he points to my seat. He reminds me of my father, whom of which I’m glad is dead. This day might have been a little better if Mom and Darrik had been there to start the day with me. But that’s a hopeless thought, just like everything else. I sit through the explanation about first-period math, bored out of my wit, doodling horrific images on a piece of scrap paper. The bell rings and I stuff it into my notebook as I shoot out the door first to avoid the rushing crowd.
Second period sucked, too. I don’t remember that teacher’s name, don’t really care, just kept working on my picture. It was shaping out to be pretty gruesome.
Third period was wonderful, though. The subject was English, always my favorite, but the best thing about this period was the guy sitting in front of me. His name was Keith and he was apparently from Colorado and had just moved into town in time to be here for the first day of school. Were all Coloradans this hot? Anyways, all through class he would occasionally lean back and talk to me, as if there was nothing wrong with me, as if I were some normal girl. His eyes were so dreamy, so perfect, so deep, and I kept getting lost in them. His voice, the voice behind the one that was speaking, was amazing, not like most of the other guys’ undeveloped, boyish voices, but deep and soft and welcoming. It seemed like every time he talked to me, his lips would be saying whatever it was that I was hearing and his second voice was trying to tell me something, though I couldn’t tell what, no matter how hard I listened, but it seemed as if it accepted me, as if I were part of it, and suddenly I felt it inside me, holding onto my soul, gently attempting to mend my wounds without any success. His eyes were pulling on me, begging me to come closer, to tell him everything and anything on my mind. He wasn’t dressed in anything spectacular, or capable of stereotyping him, just a plain pair of jeans with a chain connected to the wallet in his back pocket and a tee-shirt from one of the concerts of my favorite band, My Chemical Romance. I was pretty sure I owned the same shirt. He wasn’t bulky or muscular or anything, but he was actually a little lanky, with just a little bit of muscle, enough so he wasn’t a twig. His face was square and long, with a straight nose and deep set, bony, angular cheeks and forehead. He probably wasn’t most girls’ dream guy but he certainly was mine, and somehow, he treated me as if I were the perfect girl.
“Is there something wrong, you two?” Ms. Sheivers interrupted us. I loved her as much as I loved Mrs. Hikedson, but she always picked the worst times to interrupt.
“He was just asking me how to unlock his locker.” I answered for him, seeing that he had his entire backpack with him. “He knows his combination, but can’t figure out how to put it into the lock, and was asking me for instructions.”
“Well, the time for that is after class, okay?”
We both nodded our heads and the teacher turned back to explaining our monthly creative writing piece (she knew for a fact that I needed no instruction on that. I had her last year as an English teacher, too, before she was moved up a grade to have all the same students again. She knew I always completed that assignment perfectly, if not disturbingly, and with flying colors, she probably just felt the need to make everyone feel equal).
A few minutes later, the bell rang and as I rushed out the door, Keith hurried up along side me with his back pack before I even reached the door.
“Thanks for covering for me. I really don’t know how to get into my locker, though, to tell the truth!” he laughed, “What are you, psychic or something?”
I smiled at him and retorted, “What are you? Stupid, insane, naïve to this school’s atmosphere, or just blind?” he looked at me with a puzzled expression “What I mean is why are you hanging out with me when everyone else so obviously avoids me at all costs? You’re probably going to be labeled as a freak and people will start sympathizing you, saying that I put you under some goddamn Wicca spell.”
“You do have me under a spell…” he muttered.
“What?”
“I mean, no, don’t, never mind, just- I never said that, okay!” he became flustered and stuck his face in the water fountain we were passing as a distraction, and then came back to me. “What I meant to say was, you seem like a very interesting person to me, and really, I don’t care about what others think of me, I’m curious about you, and I want to get to know you because even though you dress kind of gothic or whatever, you’re really pretty and-“
I giggled softly at the last thing he said and he blushed.
“I mean- no, what I mean is- you’re just- I mean I’m just, I mean, oh, who am I kidding, do you want to go to the movies with me on Saturday?”
His question caught me by surprise and the voice holding onto my soul tightened its grip. I choked for a split second, then answered in a small, unsure voice (no one’s ever, ever asked me out), “I… I don’t know… I mean, maybe but, I’d have to think about it, I don’t really have any money and, well, I’ll think about it and let you know tomorrow, okay? If we don’t hurry up, we’re both going to be late for fourth period. Meet me at locker twelve after school and we can walk home together.”
We both went in opposite directions down the hall and didn't see each other at all until he met me at my locker like I'd asked him. We talked a lot while we were walking home, mostly about how gutsy he thought I was after seeing me in the fight earlier that day. Luckily, he had to turn down his own street before he saw my "house".
He met me eagerly the next morning at my locker with a rose. I took it with a smile, opened my locker, and placed it into a half-full water bottle that was sitting on the top shelf. He continued to stand next to me, attracting dozens of suspicious glances from classmates. I could tell he was waiting for an answer to yesterday’s question.
“Yes, I’ll go to the movies with you, though I don’t have much money.” I finally sighed.
He instantly reacted, jumping up and punching the air in triumphant joy, “Yes!” he cried out, “I’ll see you at third period, and don’t worry about money, I’m paying!” and he ran off.
The rest of the day went quite smoothly. I spent the couple of periods daydreaming about how perfect my date with Keith would go. I would walk to his house in one of mom’s old dresses, looking absolutely adorable, with my hair all done up (completely opposite of how I looked now, band tee, floor length bondage skirt, combat boots, same hair, same makeup). His nice mother would greet me with a big smile and drive us to the movies. We would see a horror movie with a little bit of romance in it, and share a bucket of popcorn while we watched the movie. He would have his arm around my shoulder (yes, definitely shoulder. I hate it when guys have their arms around their girlfriends’ waists. Blech!). After the movie, we would play some games at the arcade, and then his mom would come back and take us home. I would walk home, and everything would go perfect. The perfect date. Of course, some imperfect dates crossed my mind. His mom might not have liked me, or I could spill popcorn all over the place or he might hate the movie and not be in the mood for arcade games, or if, when we were talking while waiting for the movie to come on, I said something about myself that would make him not like me. Any of those things would be terrible. After third period, when I talked to Keith the whole time and paid no attention to Ms. Sheivers, I was completely frantic with all sorts of ideas about how our date could go horribly wrong, so I turned to writing my way through classes. My book was turning out to be quite nice. It was a vampire book, an action/fantasy kind of thing, with a little love plot twisted into it. I was still having a little trouble with the title. Hellheart was the first one that I had come up with, but I was unsure of it. I had also been considering One Secret, which seemed like a title geared more towards the age group I was aiming at, while Hellheart seemed more of an adult’s title. I had finally reached the one hundred page mark, and during the middle of seventh period, accidentally jumped up and shouted “yes!” at the top of my lungs, which caused my notebook to be taken away by the teacher and eighth period to be miserable. I rushed frustrated, back to my world studies class and got my notebook, then rushed back to my locker, where Keith was patiently waiting for me.
“I’ll pick you up around eight-thirty at your place, all right?” he told me, “But I can’t walk home with you today because one of my clubs has one of their first meetings today.”
“That’s fine, but I think I’ll just walk to your house. Is that okay?” I answered. I still couldn’t let him see where I lived.
He agreed reluctantly, though he insisted that it would be the right thing for him to pick me up. I carelessly rushed home, occasionally almost running into a pedestrian in my hurry, and started to get ready.



Chapter 2: Keith, the New Kid
My first day at a new school, in a new city, with new people, and new teachers. Everything is new, new, new. Even my own bedroom is new! I feel absolutely sick. I’m not exactly the hottest guy ever, so I’m sure I’ll never have a girlfriend. I just hope things won’t be like they were back in Colorado, where everybody thought I was a freak. But I’m taking a whole new approach now. I’m dressed normal, I’ll try to talk to more people, and I kind of like it! I’m nervous as Hell about my first day of school, but nonetheless excited. Maybe things won’t be so bad after all. I stuff all my school supplies into my messenger bag (still covered in graffiti from last year) and set off down my street. As I walk into the halls of Salem City High School, I don’t receive a single look. Apparently, I blended in quite well. Everything was going according to plan. Suddenly I bumped into