Chapter 2: Zazriel

Demonic_Fever wrote this.

Chapter 2 (Zazriel's POV)

I hate getting discovered. Because then I have to change schools, yet again, and that makes me angry, which makes my skin tingle and itch, which makes my claws lengthen, which makes me angrier! It's this whole big anger-fest, and it's maddening. But it has to be done, because occassionally I'll slip up and someone will see me shift, or I'll step out of line and run several times faster than everyone else, I really have to learn to be careful. There is one thing about going to school, though, and that's the fact that I don't have to ride the stupid god-forsaken twinkie to school, and I don't have to worry about morning traffic. I'll just shift and carry my backpack in my mouth, then shift back and change wherever there's enough tree cover. Am I clever or what? Nope, because that's usually how I get caught, but I do it anyway.

I found out about a little school somewhere, with only about 500 people or so. To me, that sounds like a nice place to hang out for a while until someone sees me again. Just lay low and wait. For what? I have no clue. But I'll wait. Anyway, back to the story before I get too distracted.

I dropped my backpack behind a tree and lowered my head as another breeze whipped through my fur. Best feeling in the world, that. There seemed to be no one around, but I wanted to make completely sure. I ran over to one of the windows and propped my front paws up on the outside sill. Bloody hell, they were already in class. How late was I? Then again, if you knew me, chances were, when class started I was probably messing with my shaggy black hair. I wake up and it sticks up, but if I mess with it, it hangs in front of my eyes, which would be perfect for sleeping in class.

I ran back to where I'd dropped my backpack, stood behind the tree and shifted back to my fleshy human form. I don't like human form. I get cold. And that's not good. So I quickly pulled on my typical black t-shirt and black jeans with my black leather combat boots and black fingerless gloves. Yeah, I rule. I walked to the office soundlessly, and I admit, my heart was pounding. The woman behind the desk--I'm thinking she was about 30 years old and she was very pretty-- seemed to understand automatically and slid some paperwork to me.

"If you'll just fill these forms out, we'll get you your schedule and you should be alright." She smiled. "I hope you enjoy your time here."

"So do I," I laughed.

I also hate high school paperwork. It's so damn boring. It makes me want to stab someone. Now if they'd ask something like "What do you think was the highlight of the 21st century", I could say the movie "Eagle Eye" and get it the f**k over with, but no, they ask how long you've been living alone, and it's seriously tempting to put 89 years, thank you for bringing it up. Instead, I put 3 years like the good little clone they want me to be, and slide the papers back at Rhonda. Rhonda... go figure. Now I'm angry. S**t, I could already feel my skin twitch, dying for me to run through the trees again. I could feel the claws on my left hand start to lengthen, and took four deep breaths. Rhonda--God, I hate that name--glanced at my schedule and smiled.

"Looks like you have Creative writing first. Do you like to write?"

I put on my best fake smile and saw her face redden. "That I do, miss."

She smiled back at me. "You can go. The map is on the back of your schedule. Have a great first day."

"Thank you."

I walked out of the office and smiled to myself. I had an affect on women apparently. So maybe I was a little over-confident. But every school I'd ever gone too, the receptionist took to me immediately. It didn't take me long to find the classroom, but I hesitated at the door for a moment, hoping it wasn't like my last school where everyone tried to torture me on the first day. I opened the door and eyes turned to me. I don't like feeling like I'm under a spotlight... it makes me nervous and I get shaky. The teacher smiled at me.

"You're just in time. We were just about to start our poetry segment." He turned to the class. "So we have a new victim here. What's your name, son?"

Ha. Son. I was probably several times older than this guy. Sorry, random bit of irony. I was embarrassed to find that I was still shaking. "Um... Zazriel." He nodded.

"Interesting name, Zazriel." Yeah, it's 600 years old. Does that classify as ancient? I'm pretty damn sexy for 600 years old, eh? "Just take a seat wherever you can find one, and we'll get started."

I walked toward the back of the class, dozens of eyes boring into my skull. I spotted a beautiful girl sitting off to the side, and she seemed to be the only one who didn't stare. The girl next to her said something, but I was too nervous to really hear it. The girl nodded and her hair shifted. The sunlight caught her hair and seemed to make it glisten. I had no idea what was being said around me, at that moment, if it didn't have to do with that one girl, I couldn't give a damn. She fascinated me, just by how every movement seemed to catch the light and make her shine. She was very beautiful and I found myself dying to stroke my fingers through that silky brown hair. I wished this goddess of a girl would turn around and grace me with her gaze, I wished she'd notice me. Everyone else did.

"Zazriel." I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of the teacher saying my name. "Are you with us?"

"Sorry, sir," I said, "I got distracted."

"That's no problem, son. Do you like poetry?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who's your favorite poet?"

I smiled, knowing what he wanted to hear. "Emily Dickinson, sir." And it wasn't entirely a lie. Dickinson was an amazing poet, and I truly enjoyed reading her work. The teacher smiled.

"What's your favorite poem?"

"I don't really have a favorite."

He smiled and turned away. I looked back to the angel across the room and saw her turn to me briefly, long enough for me to catch a glimpse of perfect emerald eyes and full pink lips. I couldn't get her out of my head if I tried. My god, she was gorgeous.

Reviews

[Drew Wade]

hahha. when I first read this I thought it said, 'I hate when I get divorced, because then I have to change..." haha.. anyway, you didn't write this at all??? Is it your idea? Is it a collaborative writing?

the dialogue is very good, whoever wrote it. haha..