The Meeting

The Non-Human Human

The Meeting

Perhaps it is best to start at the beginning; on the day that I had my meeting with her and my fascination began.

The day was normal; as normal as any other day there could be. Though that sounds clichéd, this fact is true. It wasn't the first day of school, nor was it the last or some other school-related occasion. It wasn't a holiday, in fact, not even close to a holiday. It was the middle of November and, now looking back on it, the only special thing about that day was that I had a math test and didn't study for it.

Here I should probably say something about the school I attend.

My school isn't extremely large. In fact it is rather normal sized with somewhere between a thousand to a thousand-and-a-half students. This is spanning six grades, so there are roughly one hundred-and-sixty-seven to two-hundred-and-fifty students per grade. My grade was one of the larger ones, so we had just over two hundred students. Although that sounds like a lot, in actuality it isn't. Everyone had a rough idea of who everyone was. Though names and faces did not match up most of the time, even before I met her, I knew Mia Russo, if only by name.

As per the rumors I heard in grade nine and the beginning of grade ten �" oh yes, I was in grade ten at the time �" Mia was a normal girl. She was somewhat aloof from time to time and spaced out fairly easily but otherwise she was always surrounded by people. I tended to only hear things about her as off comments made when speaking of the people she hung around with.

Thinking about it now, I might have caught a glimpse of her at an assembly or in the hall between classes before. Not that I knew exactly who she was then.

In any case, the only news of her I got was from some of my friends who were interested in getting at least one girlfriend before they graduated. They tended to find out as much information on the girls as possible as well as ranking them in order of beauty. To be honest I wasn't that terribly interested in their escapades. I didn't care for getting a girlfriend and even now I do not. If it were to happen, it would.

One day while they were conversing about their new information, they began to rank the people from Mia's group. The only reason I ever asked the question, "Eh? What does she look like?" was simply because they were having trouble with ranking Mia.

Their ranking system was set up based on personal preference; one being the ugliest girl and ten being the most beautiful. Five was set up as a mid point where the girl placed there was average, as in: she would stand out if you knew her and blend in if you did not.

One of the two thought that Mia was more of a five as if she did not hang around with whom she did her name would never get mentioned. The other thought that she was more of an eight. He defended his argument with the fact that her appearance alone stood out from the other girls in the school and that she seemed beautiful in a humble way. After putting up with their arguing for ten or twenty minutes I finally ended up asking them.

Suffice to say, they both looked at me as if I was crazy. It was only a moment after that my opinions to dating and the like occurred to them and they sighed and slumped in their chairs.

"Honestly Ethan…." One mumbled while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, hey, we should expect as much right?" The other mentioned.

I rested my head on my fist and glared at them, "At least I'm not like some certain people who have weird hobbies."

"Yeah, yeah," He waved his hand in the air, swatting at the invisible words, "but you want to know what she looks like right?"

"I'd say she's like every other girl," Interjected the other, whom had stopped rubbing the bridge of his nose. "She has no piercings other than in her ears, she has rather fair skin, her hair isn't too short, but it's not long either and her eyes are a plain brown. There's nothing-"

"Hey! You aren't talking about the good points at all!" He pointed his finger towards the other. "Though she does have fair skin and brown eyes, her hair color is completely different from others! It has an orange-brown-red color to it similar to the setting sun that makes her clearly stand out from the rest. Not only that but she doesn't even have freckles or any other type of blemish. Plus she doesn't have a dark tan or sunburns like other girls and she doesn't wear a lot of make-up either."

"How do you know how much make-up she wears anyways? Are you some sort of stalker?"

A pause. He opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it and glared at him instead.

"So basically she's a ginger with brown eyes who has slightly pale, but good, skin?" I asked suddenly.

Both of them turned to me and nodded their heads, one solemnly then other in agreement.

"So, based on that, what would you rate her?"

I starred at him. "I haven't even seen her you know. But, if I had to place her somewhere, and if it'll get the two of you to stop arguing, I'd say she would be a six or a seven at best."

"You just chose the middle ground."

I glared back at him.

Lunch ended shortly after that, that day and their fighting stopped, if not for only a little while. But it seems I have gotten off track.

It was after school that I met her. When thinking about it, at this point, where I was completely alone and no one else was around, where the light was becoming dark and how I became the only one to see and therefore know; it is at this point that I feel things become clichéd.

As I stated, it was after school. I had stayed late, for whatever reason. Whether it was because I got caught up in a conversation or just spent time wandering around before going home, the fact remains that at the time I met her, it was at a time where there shouldn't have been many people around.

I had headed home and walked the same path as I always had everyday. As per usual, the sun set quicker in the late fall and it was getting to the point where the stars were starting to rise to my back as the sun set before my eyes. I had headed down a small path that weaved behind the homes of the neighborhood. Typically there would be a few joggers and maybe a dog with one or two of them, but that day I didn't see any of them.

I proceeded a bit more slowly down the path, looking around more than usual. It may have been because it was late, or because it was quiet and empty, or because it was getting dark, or maybe all of the above. But, if I had not been looking around at the time, I would have missed her completely.

I noticed her off to the right of the path, hidden behind a tree or two. I was wary, but I had felt better, even if slightly, that there was someone else around. As I came up, and the trees began to move out of my view, my memory of that time begins and ends.

It may sound like an excuse, or some sort of trick of the brain, but I remember clearly the sunlight hitting one of my eyes. I had squinted and starred forwards; only able to see bits and pieces of her. Orange-red hair sparkling in the sunlight, the outline of the school uniform and her silhouette.

She stood there, her back facing me as she stood over a man. He was on his knees, and it looked like he was in pain of some sort yet no sound escaped his lips. I wanted to move, to get away, to see what she was doing to him, to see what was hurting him, anything. But I feared that she might turn around and look at me. I feared that she might know that I was already there. I feared if for no logical reason at the time.

The man fell over, his body making a soft thump against the cold ground. She turned her body ever so slightly, starring down at the body with eyes as cold as ice. She seemed to be eating something, as she swallowed something rather large and murmured something along the lines of "Thank you for the meal", though I wasn't too sure.

She turned some more after a moment, and I felt my heart drop as the blood pounded away in my skull and I knew somewhere inside of me that she was going to turn around, she was going to see me and she was going to kill me.

Our eyes met; hazel to brown. And laced within the brown was a ring of bright purple, like a fire hotter than blue but softer than the warmth of red. There was a long pause as she starred at me seeming to contemplate something.

This is where my memory ends.

Author's Note

Please be as honest and detailed as possible; I really want to improve.