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The Moon's Descendant
The Moon's Descendant
Author: Kay Pearson

Chapter 1 - Zelena

Zelena.

I lifted my head slightly as the cool breeze brushed against my neck. My long raven hair waved gently with the breeze. It was a glorious morning, the air was still fresh and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun felt warm on my face as it struggled to shine through the trees. There is something about being outside alone that I have always loved. Most people around here are afraid of the forest and they don’t go near it, me on the other hand, I love the forest. The sound of the wind in the trees, the feel of fresh air on my skin and the faint smell of salt water. It makes me feel, I don’t know, free, I guess. I relish the time I get to spend outdoors, however short it is.

I live in a little fishing town in the far north of Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, population of around two thousand people. The towns inhabitants are spread roughly twenty kilometres along the coast, there's the sea on one side, and thick forest on the other. We’re a little isolated but that’s how the locals like it. People in this town have lived here for generations, they never leave, and the ones that are lucky enough to get out, they don’t come back. The little town has all the basic necessities and people can usually find what they need in one of the few small stores. For what they can’t get, then they make the trip to one of the bigger cities, if you can call them that. Not that I have ever been, I have never left the island.

This short walk through the trees each day on my way to school, was my only solace in my otherwise hell of an existence. I would take short steps, slow steps, as if to make each passing second in the open air last longer. There are only a few weeks left of my last year of school and although every second of the last twelve years has been hell on earth, I shudder to think what will happen when it’s all over.

As I got to the black cast iron gates of the school, my small sense of freedom withered away. I looked at the dark brick walls and small windows and sighed, it was a prison. I pulled my hood up over my face, put my head down and made my way to the entrance. I pushed the heavy door open and puffed out a breath of relief, at least the hall was still empty. Majority of the other students were still in the car park, standing around and chatting with their friends until the bell rings. But not me, I prefer to go straight to my locker, shove my bag inside and wait at the door of my first class. If I get there before the halls fill up, I can usually avoid most of the morning abuse. Watching the kids marching through the hallways, I often let my mind wonder a little, what it could be like to have friends to stand around and chat with. It would probably be nice to have at least one friend in this shithole.

I lingered at my locker this morning, recounting the events of last night's beating. I closed my eyes and listened to my body. The parts of my shirt that stuck to the raw lashes on my back stung with each slight movement. The broken skin felt hot and tight under my clothes. The gash on my forehead was still throbbing, causing a headache to spread from my hairline and down to behind my ear. I did my best to cover it with makeup, but the foundation burned when I tried to rub it in to the open wound. So, I stuck a band-aid over it instead. The band-aid was plain skin colour anyway so it should blend in with my face OK. My dark, messy hair could sit across most of my face and my hoodie would cover the rest.

I suddenly became aware of the increased noise in the hallway behind me. The other kids had started coming in. Damn-it. I quickly closed my locker, bowed my head and started down the hallway to my first class. I quickly turned the corner and smashed face first into something hard. I fell backwards into the middle of the hallway, dropping my books as I tried to catch myself. The hall fell silent as I laid on my aching back, sprawled out on the floor. I clenched my eyes together, the pain spewing from my wounds was almost enough to make me gag.

“What a loser” I heard Demi snicker as she burst out laughing, the rest of the people in the hallway quickly joined in. I scurried onto my hands and knees, trying to gather my belongings in order to make my escape.

I reached for my notebook, but it wasn’t on the ground anymore. As I looked around for it, I froze. He was crouched down in front of me, his knees showing through his dark ripped jeans. I felt like I could feel the warmth radiating off him. He was not two feet away from me. I could smell him, his sweet sweat smelt like the air on a hot summer day. I breathed him in. Who is this?

“Sorry, is this yours?” he asked as he held out his arm with my book in his hand. His voice was soothing and velvety, smooth with a low rumble to it.

I snatched my book from his grip and began to stand up. I felt his big hands grab my shoulders and pull me upwards. The shock of his touch sent me falling back to the ground. I closed my eyes tight, turned my head into my arm and waited for him to hit me. The laughter in the hallway erupted again.

“Whoa” the mystery boy gasped as I cowered from him.

“She’s such a fucking freak” Demi cackled.

The pain I expected never came, he didn’t hit me, no one did. I peered out from under my hoodie as a tear rolled down my cheek. He had taken a step back, holding out his arms to pull with him the other kids that had gathered around to laugh at me.

I sat there for a moment on the cold floor taking in this boy. I had never seen him at school before. His dark brown boots were unlaced and very worn in, his ripped jeans hugged his hips. He had on a faded grey t-shirt with a red W printed on it. It hung loosely over his belt but clung to his muscular chest. He was tall. Very tall. He stood high above all of the other students behind him. I examined his arms that were still outstretched beside him. His sleeves hugging his bulging biceps. I looked at his face, his jaw was smooth and strong, his pink lips pursed together. His dark sandy blonde hair sat perfectly atop his head, short on the sides and long on the top. His bright blue eyes were staring at me with a frightening intensity. He was mesmerising, something of an ancient Greek God. Butterflies burst into my stomach and danced around. I began to feel hot and nervous as I looked at this beautiful being. Wow. He tilted his head slightly to the side and examined me. Shit! He could tell I was looking at him. I jumped up from the ground and ran, ducking my way through the crowd of laughing teens.

I got to my English class and hurried to my seat at the back corner of the room. I put my books on the desk and then curled myself into my seat. Wiping the tears from my cheek I whispered to myself ‘I hate this place’. I rested my head on my folded arms and replayed the event in the hallway. I’ve never been interested in boyfriends or dating, but something about this new boy had my stomach doing backflips.

“Class” the teacher called out as she stepped into the room,

“These are two of our new students, Cole and Peter”.

I lifted my head, just enough to see the new kids, and I reared back slightly. Holy heck, they were gods too. The first one, the taller one, had dark brown hair, smooth cream skin and slim toned muscles. His dark eyes were staring in my direction from across the class. The second one was a little shorter with dark red hair, tanned skin and glowing green eyes, eyes that were also staring in my direction. I lowered my head again and huffed. Why on earth would these gorgeous specimens be looking at me? I’m just a dirty and broken rag doll.

“Boys take a seat please” the teacher cooed.

The two boys made their way to the back of the class. I could feel the shift in the atmosphere of the room, and I had no doubt that each set of female eyes followed them as they walked. The tall one sat at the desk next to me, the other sat in front of me. The boy in front turned to face me, his head angled down trying to see my face from under my hoodie. Probably just wanting to get a look at the hideous beast that caused all that drama in the hall this morning.

“Hey, I’m Cole” whispered the boy beside me. His voice had a somewhat calming but sceptical tone. He pointed to the desk in front of me,

“That’s Peter, but everyone calls him Smith” the boy, Cole, said. The boy sitting there gave a crooked grin and wiggled his fingers at me. At first glance, he at least looks nice, but they usually all start out that way.

I awkwardly nodded at them and lowered my head again, keeping my eyes on them the best I could. I don’t like this, I don’t trust this show of friendliness. They both looked at each other and shrugged, turning their bodies to the front of the class. I could feel my panic building, what did they want? Why were they talking to me? It’s just a joke, it has to be. They are going to be like every other asshole in this place and bully me, just like everyone else does. There is no reason for them to be nice to me, so it must be a trick.

As class continued the presence of the two new boys made me uncomfortable. I squirmed in my seat as their closeness to me began to feel like it was shrinking by the second. Finally, the first morning bell rang, and the students started getting up and walking out the door. Cole and Smith both stood in front of my desk blocking my exit, everyone else had left the room already. Right away I knew this had to mean trouble, and I sunk myself lower into my seat, preparing myself for their incoming attack.

“Do you think me and my friends can sit with you at lunch?” Cole asked peering down at me with his head tilted to the side.

I lifted my head slightly to gauge his facial expression. He doesn’t seem malicious, it didn’t look like he was joking. But I shook my head anyway, I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone.

“Well okay, I guess we’ll see you later then” said Cole cheerfully as he turned and headed for the door with Smith on his heels.

“Hey, what's your name anyway?” Smith called back to me from the front of the class, I lifted my head to look at him, surprised. Both he and Cole were standing by the door looking at me, waiting.

Why would he care what my name is? It’s not like we’re going to be friends or anything, why would boys like that be interested in being friends with a beast like me. I was confused and unsure, was this just another trick, some sort of mind game to gather information? I paused, considering all the thoughts swirling through my head. But I figured they have been nice to me so far. Nicer than anyone else has ever been. What’s the harm in letting them know my name? I got up out of my chair and stood next to my desk, with my head still lowered and my arms crossed in front of my body clutching my books.

“It’s Zelena” I whispered with a croak.

The two boys looked at each other wide eyed. They looked back to me and smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Zelena” said Cole as he nodded his head and walked out the door.

Smith continued to smile as he lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers at me again, then turned and walked out the door after Cole.

Once I was alone, I puffed out a breath that I didn’t realise I was holding. I stood there for a moment, placing my hand on my desk to steady myself. What the heck was that about. My head was pounding and my breath was shaky. I put my other hand to my chest, my heart was thumping hard and fast. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I’m just hungry I thought, I didn’t eat this morning. I rushed off to my next class, zipping through the other kids in the hall. I got to the door and went straight in and to my seat, everyone else was already seated. I put my arms up on the desk and rested my head in my hands and started to daydream about the beautiful man in the hallway.

The lunch bell rang snapping me out of my daze. Once all the other kids had left and the hallway seemed quieter, I headed out of the classroom towards the cafeteria. I walked through the doors and went to grab my tray, thank God for meal vouchers. The rest of the school was already seated at their tables, talking and catching up on the happenings of the weekend. I took my food and slowly made my way to my usual seat by the rubbish bins. I bit into my apple, keeping my head down. The room was full of noise and laughter amongst the few groups of friends.

Demi and her minions sat at the table next to the footballers. Demi was your typical mean girl. She was beautiful and stylish, with long wavy blonde hair that bounced down her back and flawless bright skin. She was the kind of girl that all the guys wanted, and all the girls wanted to be. She would prance down the hall with her short skirts and high heels, as everyone else stepped out of her way. You would never catch me in clothes so short and tight, no one would want to see that anyway.

My little daydream was broken when my orange juice suddenly tipped all over me, spilling down my stomach and over my lap. I looked at my tray and saw that someone had thrown a half-eaten slice of pizza at me. Lifting my head, I saw Demi flick her hair over her shoulder laughing and high fiving her followers. One of the jocks, Brian, was standing on the table pointing at me and laughing.

“What happened Snow White, did someone have an accident?” he laughed as he jumped off the table and onto the back of one of his bros, his face turning red from his laughter.

I felt the eyes of the entire school on me as I sat alone at my table with orange juice dripping onto my legs. I looked down at my clothes and my plate of mushy food. I turned my head to look at the exit and saw at the table by the door was the new boys, Cole and Smith, sitting with the mystery Greek God from the hallway. None of them were laughing. Cole was glaring at Demi with hatred in his eyes. Smith was looking between Demi’s table and his tray of food, furiously stabbing at his plate with his fork. The mystery man was looking at me. A look of deep hurt and sadness covered his face. His gaze followed me as I got up from my table and walked to the exit.

“Bye Bitch” I heard Demi call as I pushed the doors open and walked through. I went to my locker to get my spare clothes. I know now from experience to keep a change of clothes at school, for those times that Demi is feeling extra cruel. I was pulling my jumper out of my bag when I heard a voice.

Comments (2)
goodnovel comment avatar
cathy knoblauch
The saddest part is everyone knows exactly the type of "mean girls" that are being referred to...
goodnovel comment avatar
Kristan Halsey
Who would put make up on an open wound? Ridiculous
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