Blood of the Pure (Gaea) (2 page)

Chapter One

TEX

– Exordium of the Equinox of the Gods.
1
–

“Ah, to be able to love, to be able to suffer, to be able to feel ... That which all Humans have for granted, for me are nothing but fleeting rays of light amongst the dark clouds that constantly overcast the sky of my life ...”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

he sound of the alarm clock brusquely pulled me away from my dream. My heart was pounding and I took a deep breath as I searched for the alarm button.

With some effort I realized the day of the week and, being Wednesday, wished it was Saturday so I could just turn over and go back to sleep.

“Mari! Hurry up! You’ll be late!” a woman’s muffled voice called from the distance and I grumbled as I complied. Reluctantly leaving behind the warmth of my soft quilt, I stood up and opened the curtains. The heavy gray sky of another February morning greeted me and suggested it would probably rain.

The quiet Cressingham Road where we had just moved was already showing signs of life, as those who started their days earlier left the comfort of their homes, and I was once again dragged into my personal reality.

Removing my pajamas, I put on the jeans I’d left over the chair the night before, and the cold of the fabric against my warm skin made me shiver.

For a moment the dream, which had disturbed my sleep so many other nights, came back to me, making my cheeks burn.

I looked at myself in the mirror hanging from one of the walls and sighed. Just like me to dream of something like that ... Or maybe it was exactly because it was me!

Another sigh, this time much bitter, left me rather depressed. The truth is that in my seventeen years of life, I had little to no experience as far as relationships with the opposite sex were concerned. In fact, none would better describe my situation. And now a dream like that tormented me every single night.

I covered my face, too ashamed to even look at myself, and took a deep breath.

Not much I could do about it anyway. Truth be said, I was far from being an attractive girl. At five-feet-one I was too thin, even though I tried on daily basis to correct that fact by eating enough for two. My straw-like hair was neither blond nor brown, falling straight just below my shoulder blades. My eyes, of the same indecisive color, were too big for my face, making it look like I was always staring at something, or someone, which made me avoid direct eye contact with others. And to finish it off, I was basically deprived of any feminine forms, leading others to believe I was only old enough to attend, maybe, the seventh grade.

I sighed again, now feeling really depressed, and put on a brown, turtleneck wool jumper. Next in line were my rain boots and I was finally ready to make my way to the bathroom, and face my every morning fight against my dull hair. Once I was finished, all that was left for me to do was follow the delicious scent of freshly made toast into the kitchen.

“Finally, Mari! Good morning!” Rachel, my mother, greeted me, kissing me lightly on the cheek while placing a plate with two pieces of toast and a cup of milk in front of me. “Sleep well?”

“Kind of,” I answered, taking a bite, but she didn’t even seem to listen to my reply.

“I have a meeting today. Which means I’ll probably be late. But you have what’s left from yesterday’s dinner on the fridge. If you’re not up to cooking, all you have to do is warm it up. Just make sure you eat.” She spoke while putting on her coat and, like every morning, looked  for her car keys.

“On top of the cupboard, in the living room,” I advised her, and she nearly ran out of the kitchen.

“Ain’t I the luckiest to have an all-knowing daughter like you,” she told me as she came back dangling the keys on one finger and then turned around inquisitively. “How do I look?”

Quite different from me, my mother was a very attractive woman. The gray wool-skirted suit fit her perfectly. She tied her blond hair on top of her head, allowing the elegant line of her neck to show. And the soft makeup she wore highlighted her expressive eyes.

We’d moved into the house at the beginning of the semester after what had probably been the most peaceful divorce on Earth. My father had taken a working position in New York and, it seemed, they had both agreed there wasn’t any reason to try and maintain a relationship that had been deteriorating over time. Only I had been living in the illusion of a happy family and a perfect marriage.

Rachel was an independent woman, her personality strong and outgoing, the complete opposite of me. She worked as an interior designer and, contrary to what one would expect, the divorce hadn’t affected her in the least; almost as if she’d never been married and my father’s leaving had been the same as saying goodbye to a nice neighbor with whom she had casually shared her house for the last twenty years.

“Wonderful, like always,” I honestly responded, asking myself about her secret to achieve such an appearance. She smiled happily as if she needed my approval.

“Be good then,” she said, kissing me on the forehead. “Anything, just call me. See you later.”

“Later,” I answered with a smile. The sound of her high heels echoed through the house until the front door was shut.

Once alone I made sure I ate the two slices of toast, although I wasn’t particularly hungry at all. When I casually took a peek towards the kitchen clock, I couldn’t help cursing. I was already late!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the beginning of the year I’d enrolled the Christ the King College.

After I’d completed the eleventh grade at a Catholic school, my mother wanted me to continue my studies at a Catholic institution and Christ the King had been her choice. I didn’t mind it anyhow.

The sound of the bell made me run once again. The first course of the morning was English Literature and the teacher was particularly demanding with regard to punctuality.

“Morning, Mari!” I followed the voice that had spoken to me and made sure I smiled.

“Morning, Steph. Late as always, I see,” I remarked, fully aware I could hardly criticize her that morning, but she shrugged unconcerned.

“I hate English Literature. Especially early in the morning,” she replied, running to keep up with my pace before I opened the classroom door just in time for the second bell.

Our teacher, Mr. Frederich, raised his narrowed eyes from the class enrollment list and looked at us coldly.

“Late as always, Miss Stephanie Waters! And, as it seems, your bad influence is starting to rub off on your friends. Miss Mariane Mellis! I should warn you that if you’re going to start following your friend’s bad example, you’ll end up seeing your grades plunge until they’re also the same!”

“I’m terribly sorry. It won’t happen again,” I quickly apologized, and with an unpleasant frown he had no choice but to let us in.

“Hurry up and take your seats! Quietly!” he grumbled and we obeyed as fast as possible.

“Stupid annoying old man. I hate him as much as he hates me!” Steph said under her breath as she pulled the chair beside me and I smiled wryly praying he hadn’t heard her. Joanne Baits, sitting right in front of Steph, was an entirely different matter, and she smiled amusingly as she turned back in her chair.

“And then? What was it this morning? The cat? Your brother? The bus?” she asked, trying to guess the excuse Steph had prepared.

Steph shrugged. “Fell asleep. I was watching this movie last night and didn’t hear the alarm clock,” she answered while opening her book as Joanne laughed lightly.

“Oh my, Steph being honest,” she teased and turned to the front before she could be scolded. I smiled as Steph sighed, bored to death, and opened my book to page forty-seven to follow the text being read.

Stephanie Waters was the only girl in school I’d dared call a friend. In truth it was almost as if she’d somehow adopted me. Stephanie, Joanne and Joe Rider were all childhood friends, frequenting the same schools since forever, and Steph had been the first person to talk to me in the beginning of the year when I‘d been completely alone, being the new girl and all.

The complete opposite of me, Steph had wavy dark hair, which fell softly around her delicate face. Her olive-colored eyes changed shades according to the light. And her skin was smooth and pinkish. Quite taller than me, her body was the envy of many girls our age and everything she wore fit her perfectly, almost as if she were some magazine model. She was funny, outgoing and generally well liked, and there was no one who didn’t know her. Steph had pulled me into her group of friends and was my daily savior, filling up the space I couldn’t fulfill due to my usual lack of appropriate words or knowledge for interesting conversation subjects. Thanks to Steph, my otherwise nonexistent social life always managed to have some color.

The morning went by the same as usual.

After English literature came philosophy. Neither Joanne nor Steph were in that course, so I shared my desk with Kevin London, another one of the boys from our group.

Kevin was the quietest of them, no one knowing exactly what he thought about the rest of the world. Together we were the absurd of the lack of subject, since the words we exchanged were always so few. But I still couldn’t help feeling at ease near him, and his company was much more pleasant than that of the other boys.

When lunchtime finally came around, we met Steph and Joanne again in the cafeteria where we took our places at our group’s normal table. The conversation became immediately livelier and, as always, I followed Steph while she told us about the movie that had kept her awake the previous night.

Like always, Joe immediately started picking on Joanne, making her give him her full attention instead of listening to what Steph was saying. Albert Clayton was whispering something apparently funny in Sarah Trent’s ear, his new girlfriend. She laughed softly, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright blue. Kevin had his nose stuck in a book, which quickly became Steph’s target since Joanne wasn’t paying her attention.

I just made sure I kept on smiling.

Again that feeling ...

It was as if I were there but wasn’t. As if I were one of them, but in truth something completely different. As if that were my reality, but at the same time I were a mere spectator of some kind of movie. As if, for a moment, my world had stopped turning while theirs went on, slowly leaving me behind.

“Mari!” Steph’s voice woke me from my digressions. “We were talking about going to Oxford Street tomorrow after school. Want to come? Anyway, you always spend your afternoons home alone, right? Why not leave your books behind for a change?” she asked with her typical liveliness. Although we’d only met a few months ago, I had to agree that Steph knew me all too well. Her arguments left me no way to politely refuse her invitation, which, to top it all, had made me uncomfortably the center of everyone’s attention.

“Ok,” I just answered, forcing a smile and the talk immediately became all about the shops we absolutely had to go to. The boys offered to accompany us, making Sarah happy and Joanne frown in disapproval because that meant Joe was coming too, to torment her all afternoon.