Holythurst

It's dark outside, and our car is speeding down the highway at a reasonable rate. I don't know what time it is, but judging by the sky, I'm guessing it's around 11 pm. There's a stranger driving, and I can sense the attention he keeps giving me, his eyes flicking towards me every now and then. I'm surprised by how comfortable I feel, despite the unease that should come with being alone with a stranger. I know he's trying to say something, but he's having a mental debate about whether he should or not. The weird thing is, everything in me is craving to know what he has to say. I sit up straight, pretending that none of this affects me, and watch as we pass by every pine tree. The snow must have started hours ago while I was asleep, because every pine tree I see is now covered in a dusty white coat, leaving tiny green patches here and there. The car windows are coated in a thin layer of snow, except for the windshield with the wipers swishing back and forth. There's no sign of birds or life except us in this part of the woods. It feels like almost an hour of his mental debate before he finally speaks. "You're so beautiful, Lora, and there's nothing in this world that I'd want to trade you for," he says, reaching out for my hand. His face is blurred, but I know he has the most beautiful smile plastered on it as he brings my hand to his lips and places a chaste kiss on it. It's just a simple phrase, but I know he means every word he said, and that's everything I need to hear for my heart to skip a beat. "I lo...", he doesn't finish his sentence when I hear a crashing sound, and I'm swallowed by darkness... Read on to find out.

Stay With Me Laura

“Lorna.Bel.Deefranzo,” my English teacher, Mrs. Hwangeala, snaps. “Did you hear anything I just said?” I don't know what to say, so I say nothing in response. When she knows that she's won, she adds, “I thought so.” “Now get your head out of the clouds before you'll eventually flunk my exam.” Even after all her harsh words, I still can't seem to concentrate. All I can think of and do is smell that sweet scent. It's like I'm drowning in bliss, it's like I'm dreaming. When, “Lorna!”... “Aggghhh, what now, Mrs. Hwangeala?” The whole class bursts into an eruption of laughter; I'm so embarrassed I can literally feel my face burning from all the embarrassment. I'm guessing right now I probably look like an overripe tomato. She gives me one of her “how dare you disrespect me” looks before continuing her lesson. 


When it happens again, this time it's unbearable. It's like a part of me is trying to claw its way out to freedom. 10, 9, 8, the minutes tick by as I continue to drum my pencil harder and faster against the wooden desk top. 7, 6, 5, damn it, it's like it's following me. 4, 3, 2, I can't take it; I'm getting out of here. I dash out the door and down the corridors; I really need to figure out what's happening to me, so I take a left turn and head to the ladies' room to be alone. A lot of weird things have happened to me since my mom's passing, but this is new – like in a weird sense of new. The type of weird that scares me. 


When I get back to class, it's period eight, and math is our last lesson for the day. My math teacher greets me with a smile and ushers me in. Typical of Mr. Aminisher, always welcoming and at peace. I take a seat, and my eyes instantly stick on the back of a brunette's head, and as though reading my thoughts, Feishla, my desk mate, whispers into my ear, “fresh meat.” Perv, I roll my eyes at her before taking my seat. I try to get a better view of him, but his face is overshadowed by his thick, luxuriant brown curls. He seems to be oblivious to what's happening around him except for his book, but as though there was a silent call, his head instantly snaps in my direction, causing me to duck. In an effort to cover up for my stupid reaction, I pretend to pick up my pencil, which had long fallen in the midst of my drooling. 


An hour later, I dump my school bag on the table and literally throw myself on my bed. What a day this has been. It feels as though I spent my whole morning weirdly obsessing over a sweet scent and my whole afternoon stealing glances and hiding from a stranger's view. I hate stalkers, but I feel as though I myself have been one today.


Following the current