Yin-Yang Series: Surviving Highschool & Dragons

Chapter 3:
I'm Late. For A Very Important Date

I'm swimming. Well that's all cool and everything 'cause I love swimming. But..... Why am I hanging out with an otter?
He's swirlin' all over the place, screechign and yelping, freaking out completely. And I'm catching it like its some sort of Brazilian disease, or Californian wildfire or something.
Worry is clawing at my belly and I start flailing. Where the hell am I? What's going on? Where the fuck is the surface? Looking up, I was forced to realize that there is none. I was trapped in an underwater chamber, surrounded by the murky depths and this crack-head otter. Drowning. I'm gonna die.
What the hell? Why me?
Then I hear it. A really, really loud growl makes me to turn to my left, spinning around like a ballerina on a perolet. It was all graceful-like, but who pays attention to stuff like that in life-or-death situations like this? I'm terrified, there's absolutely no blood-lust rush to help me out. Adrenaline's not even kicking in. I'm loosing the fight before it even starts.
Then I get to see it. Well, I don't actually see it. More like the jaws of it. Giant jaws filled with sharp fangs and humango canines. Id didn't even think I had the air to squeeze out of my lungs for a decent scream, but there it was. The shrill piercing call of horror, and it didn't even distort itself, even with the fresh water shoving its way down my throat. How cool was that? It was like the kind of scream you hear in a movie theater, in those horror flicks, when someone's gonna die. Only difference was, this scream was real, not Hollywood, and the I was the one really dying.
I tried to struggle backward, but I found my back shoved against this ice cold, stone wall smoothed by the water's currents. I stared in horror as those slightly yellowed fangs neared me, but I could do a damn thing.
This thing was finding me a way easy target, those glittering points closing down on me and...

* * *

Gasping, sweating, and practically crying, I stifled a scream and held myself, sitting upright in my crummy bed. I was soaked in my own sweat, as if I really had gone for a swim.
I could still hear myself struggling for air, trying to fill my drained lungs. They must be feeling really fricken stubborn because no matter how much I sucked in, nothing seemed to be accepted. It was like they were ignoring me.
I closed my eyes tight, strengthening my grip around myself, possibly keeping myself from falling to pieces, as the icy air in my room stung my skin. During which time, I kept forcing myself to say "It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a fricken dream. " Then I blinked and looked at my blank wall, now turned a dark gray in the night. "Great. Now I'm yelling at myself. I can imagine that's real healthy."
It all seemed so effin real. The water and the way it pushed and rolled itself over my skin, cooling every partof me. How it made me choke and splutter, but the wierd thing was that I only started acting up when that.... thing came about. I never really felt threatened about drowning.
I rubbed my pounding temples, eager to get them to stop. My fingers kept slipping over them, my skin slick with its gross layer of sweat, still being chilled and frozen.
Looking over at the clock, I saw it was 3:17 in the morning. Not bad for a night's sleep. My brain must not be as up and about as it usually was, 'cause I've only had about three dreams tonight. The daily dosage of dreams like this is about five a night, depending on my day. Each were as wierd and chaotic, and yes, horrifying as the last. And I could never make sense of any of them.
I slept pretty well tonight, despite the fact that I almost peed myself.
Speaking of pee....
I jumped out of my bed, suddenly aware of my bladder, feeling pretty close to bursting. It hurt really bad, stinging against my belly, but the pain was pins and needles from the inside of my belly, not just biting at my skin.
As my barefeet hit the cold, laminated floor, Molly came up to me. She mewed, looking innocently up at me. The Bobcat flicked her long, tawny eartip and rubbed against my leg. "Come on, not now." I whispered harshly at her, dodging her first attempt.
It was always an obstacle course with Molly, she followed you everywhere.
But I survived it, I get to keep my bladder another day by dodging and hippidy-hopping all over the place as she went to trip me up with her furry paws. I was able to silently sprint out my room, down the hall, and to the bathroom. (A.K.A. the first door on the right.), do what I had to do, and came right back out.
Now, when I came out, I realized I wasn't too tired anymore, only slightly groggy. My exhaustion was gone. Damn. What was I gonna do now?
I could change my bed, it was all sweaty and gross, and it was the best option I had.
So I did. Turning on the balls of my feet, I went back into my room, as quiet as the stars, and turned on the lamp in my room. I tore off the skimpy blanket and stripped the matress of its sheets. It all ended up in a pile of sweat-soaked linen. I even ended up putting my whole pillow in a hamper basket. (An old cardboard box I found outside of Cat's Den.) The small box was overflowing now, but it was still too late for me to care. I figured I'd take care of it and wash the crap tomorrow, if and when I got time. After school.
Seeing that my mattress was still slightly damp, I made the extra effort of flipping it over to its dry side. Fising out a blanket from my closet, I dropped it in its own little pile on my bed. (I had a large supply of bed dressings since this usually happens at least twice a day.) I went back over for a new pillow, but fell into slight dismay when I realized I didn't have anymore of the fluffy luxury. I thought for a moment, then steathily decided to get my coat. It'd be satisfying enough.
Before I did so, I decided I'd been in soaked clothing long enough and changed into some new light ones. Thin, loose pants of black I figured were made of cotton, and an even thinner gray T-shirt that went down to the base of my knees. Yup, really big clothes serve for really good P.J.'s.
After the small detour, I headed out in our short hallway and into our considerably small one-size-fits-all room and found by the door our makeshift coathook. I grinned with satisfaction to find my jacket. This one was thin with absolutely no stuffing in it. Really, it was actually a hoodie, but I didn't care. Soft, comfortable, yet hardy and able to endure anything. I love my coat.
There are a lot of things that suck from being poor. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. But, there are a few benefits. (Besides Food Stamps.) One of which, just happens to be my choice of coats. I don't have to go out in this big, thick eskimo puff wintercoat. My mom can't make me, she can't afford it. So I guess my life isn't as much as of a hell as I would imagine.
So anyway, I took my comfy coat (hoody) and headed back down the hall. Just like I was supposed to. You know, the good little teenager? As I did, I let my mind drift. For some reason it fell onto my mother, about school, her working so hard, and me being the worst kid in the world. Now, why did I first think of Mommie Dearest? Well, I just don't have an answer for you. So there. Anyway, she was supposed to be at work by now. She's supposed to punch in by 2:30, so I've missed her by a good hour, seeing as though the time had passed and it was now about 3:45.
I passed her room. Almost.
I suppose I got curious or something because I dared to peek inside. My breathing was steady, not expecting to see anything or anyone special, just an empty bed with a lot of fumbled blankets thrown about it. Even after my horrible nightmare, I felt fine. The room was completely pitch black, but from the bathroom (of which I had left the door wide open) the nightlight brightened up the soft, black blanket of the night which stretched over into my mother's domain, only slightly.
There she was, in her bed, all snuggled up like a bug all snug in a rug, in her big fluffy blankets. But she wasn't supposed to be there, not now.
"She's hiding something." I whispered to myself, so quiet I almost thought I didn't say anything. Then, "She's not the only one with secrets."
A thought to tuck away for later, but now? I had to get to bed. Unfortunately, a soft mew came from within the room, and I turned my head slightly to find two glowing silver eyes, lined with a soft amber color. They were pretty, but scary at the same time. Think about it, two eyes? No body? Can't blame it on Casper, I just saw him last week, and last I checked, he had brown eyes. But I knew better, thankfully.
"Molly." I chided her quietly, desperate not to wake my mother. "What are you doing?" I tried to act tough, but I could already feel a happy smirk playing on my face.
The bobcat was standing on my mom's computer desk, the one in the corner of her room, facing away from the door. With her paws perched on the coputer's montier, she looked directly at me and meowed again.
"Come on, get off." I stepped forward and clutched the giant cat gently in my arms, and put her softly onto the floor. She padded off, with yet another one of her meows, with a purr trailing in its wake.
I was just about to leav ewhen I noticed the glowing orb of green light coming from the tower, from the power signal thing. The computer was still on. Mom. Doesn't she know she's wasting electricity? Evidently not, or I have the world's youngest patient with Alzheimers. But no worries, I sure was the conservitive one.
Wiggling the mouse a bit, I brought the moniter back to life. No password, my mom trusted me. Big mistake, but what can I say? She's way too trusting. And I didn't even have to worry about the light, the monitor was dimmed already, so there wasn't much light to bother me or mom. Cool.
What I saw next was really wierd. A big title with pretty foo-foo words spelled out in golden writing LoveWorld.org. And beneath it, in minor size spelled out in that same disgustingly girly writing, Find Your Inner Romance.
Now, I'm very prone to throwing up. But thankfully, because of my hardy, steel-like stomach, I can stop myself from doing so. So, what's my vomit factor now? Well, on a scale from 1-10, I'd say about a 7.5. With, of course, 10 being the worst and I definately would throw up, whether I wanted to or not.
Anyway, the questions came up right after the urge of upchucking. Why the hell would she bother with this kind of pathetic place? God, if you're really up there, let it be known to all that this really sickened me.
I guess it didn't bother me too much, since its only online chatting, no one making out or anything, but it did make me think of my dad. What a great role model. Why would my mom even try to find someone else when she had my asshole-of-a-father to remember?
Whatev. Back to bed. I shut the system down with about two clicks. Its soft buzzing eased, then ceased and I left the room, just as silently as I came. Dude, I felt like an effin ninja.
I creeped into my own room and sank into my bed. How soft the spring loaded sponge could be. It was glorious. Kind of.... Well, no. Not really. But I was able to get halfway comfortable with my head resting on my coat. And I drifted off to sleep, slowly but surely, with about half an hour's worth of tossing and turning. And this time? No dreams.
Thank God.

* * *
My muscles ached, my head throbbed, my eyes stung, and my poor effin eardrums pulsed. On top of it all, my whole body stung with cold. Somehow my blanket fell off during the night, leaving me as one very unhappy, very unlucky camper. Yay.
I turned my head to glared with violent menace at the the alarm clock on its nightstand, beside my bed. 7:32. Late for school. Again. But hey, I'm always late. Why switch up the schedule?
I'd rather stay home, but I can't ditch 'cause then Mom would know. Not that she doesn't know my predicament now, I'd bet money on it that she did. Even if I don't have the dough on me now.
But whatever. Time to get up.
I lifted my stiff self unsteadily unto my aching elbow, then pushed my body to sit up. Rubbing my tired eyes, I swung my legs clumsily over the bedside and onto the cold tile floor, my toes screaming in despair. Poor things, need a hug.
I stumbled over to my plywood dresser and pulled out a black tee and a matching pari of black, baggy jogging pants. Again, made of cotton, not that polyester crap.
Took off the cozy pajamas, slipped on some real clothes, then I went back and took my coat/hoddie. Fashionable and warm, how much more could you ask for. And here's the grand bonus, it's in my favorite color. Black! I put it on and walked out, heading to the bathroom. My bladder had filled. Again.
Went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, my hair, and washed my face. When yet another mew came my way, I saw Molly leap easily and gracefully up onto our sink. Her water!
"Sorry girl." I apologized stupidly. And yes, as you have noticed, I talk to my cat. Don't you?
Anyway, I don't know why I said that when I know she can't understand me. Never the less, the Bobcat seemed to blink and nod slightly as I filled the sink with water, putting the stopper on to hold the water in the basin.
I pushed my black bangs out of my face and left.
Out in the livingroom/ kitchen/ diningroom, the table was cleared and spotless, as was the sink. Mom did dishes and the table? Usually she didn't have the time time nor energy to do both. Boy, she must've been on a role.
I grabbed my bookbag, not too inclined to find out why, and I opened the door, only to practically fall on my ass.
"What the hell?" I shouted, glaring at the sandy-haired teenager before me.
"I could say the same. Where the hell have you been, Vixen?" Colt growled at me, having just as much menace as I did. I just loved how he could meet me evenly, then I'd have to pull out a little more than he did, and he easily met up. Man, it annoyed me.
I stood up and crossed my arms, my jaw automatically tightened with attitude. "In bed, dumbass. I just got ready for school. Would you like to know the brand of toothpaste I used?"
Despite the fact I had insulted him, his frown formed into a slight smile, possibly half-grin. And, thankfully, his eyebrows lessed on their intensity, his green eyes lightning as well. "Very funny."
"Only the best for you." I looked down at my fingernails as I sarcastically replied.
Colt didn't respond to that. He more or less ignored it. "Do you know what time it is?" his eyebrows yet again furrowed a bit and I was nervous, but in a few seconds, I could decipher it was just curiousity in his voice, no anger.
But I was tired and cold, and not even for my best friend Colt hear could I shush the sarcasm and bitch-ness of me.
"What, we playin twenty questions or somethin'? No I have no clue what time it is. When I saw the clock last it was like seven thirty."
Colt actually raised his eyebrows at that, he was surprised. "Avira, it's twelve thirty." he said slowly, sympathetically. "In the afternoon." he decided to add, after about three milliseconds.
I felt my own hands clench fiercely and clamped my eyes shut for just a short blink. Well, maybe longer.
"Fuck!" I cursed, rubbing my sore forehead. "First the dreams, then the damn cat, now I'm late for school, and I am soooo getting expelled." I muttered, crouching against the wall of the room, seeing as the hallway part of the room was only about three, maybe three and a half feet wide. I closed my eyes and ruffling my short hand with both hands, tried to steady my breathing, with no success.
"Dreams? What dreams?" Colt asked, yet again curious. Why did he ask so many damn questions?
I looked up at him, meeting his emerald eyes, full of heightened curiousity, with an icy glare. "Nothing."
Readjusting my book bag, I slipped past him and started walking, ignoring the freezing crunch I felt every step I took in the really cold snow. "Come on." I said, keeping my eyes on the red Chevy Blazer ahead of me, "If I'm lucky, that dumbass principal will still let me in."
Colt followed, like an obedient dog. What a good little pet. "Right, right. Get in the truck, I'll get you over there."
Nothing like a friend to help you out on a bad day.
I didn't hesitate. Opening the door of the truck, I slid into the passenger seat, surrounded by way too neat, way too clean interior.
My best friend was beside me in moments, putting his seatbelt on and grabbing the big leather-covered steering wheel. He put the vehicle out of park and into reverse, expertly backing out of my parkinglot. Rocks cracked and popped, making me a little nervous and slightly on edge. The last thing I needed right now was to pop a tire, but Colt didn't seem to be the least bit worried.
Next thing I knew where were on solid, smooth concrete, racing with traffic. I don't exactly pay attention to directions very much, so I'm not going to even try and explain where we were. You don't need to know, this boring world of mine won't last very much longer. Keep reading, you'll find out.
I sat staring out the window, forehead pushed up against he ice cold glass. I let out a silent sigh, and the warm air fogged up the small section of glass in front of my nose.
The winter was harsh this year, blizzards and storms coming every other day, one after another. No one trusted the weather man anymore, the weather was unpredictable and did as it wished. Kinda like me. Well, sort of.
Now the roads were covered with thick with dirty brown slush. Undoubtfully, black ice was everywhere. I was hoping we would hit any, not today. I continued to gaze out of my point of view. I could see dimly lit yellow lights of the city to the right, in my seat. Next exit was our stop.
The snow as storming down on us, and sight was limited. But I guess Colt expertly knew this before. Duh. Of course he did. The Chevy's headlights blared with unbelievable luminosity. He must have replaced the bulbs and fiddled with the wires to up the wattage, turning this farmboy truck into a military-grade automobile. Man, I wish I had his brains. I wouldn't be about to beg Mr. Roy for my slot in school, that's for damn sure.
"So what's up?"
I turned my head, looking blankly at the driver as he briefly glanced at me and the road, back and forth.
"Huh?" I'm so smart.
Grinning, Colt repeated himself. "I said, what's up?" he said slowly, looking hard out of the windshield, focused on the road ahead.
I rolled my eyes, but found myself smirking.
"Nothing much, ol' buddy, ol' pal." I replied sarcastically, in my all-too-good redneck accent. I'm really good at accents, and its fun to practice 'em.
He chuckled to himself, then talked a little more. "You wanna here a funny joke?"
I stared at him in disbelief. What. An. Idiot. "A joke?"
Nodding furiously, he kept his gaze locked on outside. "Yeah. A funny one."
I held out my hands, "Sure, go ahead. Hit me with the best one you got."
He shook his head this time, "Can't hit ya. Mom said I can't hit girls, but I'll tell you the joke." he said, silly goose.
I rolled my eyes at him, still a little puzzled at his behavior. He never really acted like this before. He was one bright braniac, too smart for common idiocy. You know, my type of stuff.
Anyway, he went on. "Why'd the chef get arrested?"
"I have no clue Colt. Why?" I said, sighing.
"'Cause he was beatin' an egg." he laughed aloud at that, and I just looked at him with a bewildered gaze. What the hell?
I decided to change the subject. "This sure is some nice weather we're gettin', huh?" What a dumb thing to talk about. But hey, it was better than discussing probation regulations with the chef who beat his egg.
He seemed to snap out of it then, like he was fighting his own head. Two split personalities, only one could win. (Cue the dramatic music)
"I know what ya mean. The pastures are packed with snow, and we had to keep the horses inside while we try to unbury the fields. I'll tell you what, Fawn wasn't too happy about it." he said, his voice still groggy, but getting better with every word.
See, Colt's a born-and-raised farmboy, but with no hillbilly accent. (You are allowed to fistpump at this point of time.) He lives on a big ranch his parents own. They breed horses there, mostly this breed of drafts called Belgians. Whatever they are.
But that "Fawn" he mentioned? That's his horse. A mare. She's a beautiful black horse, with silver dappled all over her back in fine, neat patterns. Like a perfect Dalmation coat, painted right onto her. Silver on black, she's gorgeous. She's a mustang in her prime, and she's the most graceful thing on that piece of property. I love her to death. Colt let's me ride her, never alone, of course, but he does. He makes sure that's sitting right behind me, holding the reings with me, like I'm a little toddler. Mostly because he doesn't think I'm capable of riding a horse on my own, with my city roots and all. Normally I wouldn't put up with it, but this is Fawn we're talking about. I'd give up my own lung for her, nothing's too good for that horse. Nothing.
"It's only January, it's gonna get worse." I pointed out, sadly. Why couldn't spring just get here? I looked back out my window, settling back in the soft seat.
"Or it might level itself out." Colt mused.
I stifled yet another sigh. He always looked at the brighter side, even if there wasn't one. It was so annoying, he made me look emo. Maybe I was. To me, there wasn't a bright side. For moi, there was a bad side, and then there was the worse side. No good in either. It was a choice of two bad endings. Always had been, always will be. Always.
You know what? This is dull. No, it's not dull, it's worse than that. It's boring. Seriously, I'm writing all this stuff down and I'm practically falling asleep on the keyboard. I can't even imagine how bored you are. I'm amazed you got this far into the book. So you know what? I'll cut you some slack. Let's skip ahead to where my life starts. My real life.