Chapter 3 #3
A hand slams into the wall beside my face, just barely missing me by mere millimetres.
“What are you glaring at, pleb?” I turn back toward Jeremy and Jake, both towering over me, their eyes slowly creeping up my exposed legs from the fall.
What I wouldn’t do to slap the scum off their faces.
I ball my hands into fists but quickly realise, I’m not strong enough.
This body is physically too weak to take on two normal boys, let alone two athletic shifters.
My younger self had no scars or broken bones, but she had no physical strength or training either.
My mind is as sharp as a twenty-seven year old with years of experience of fighting and surviving assholes, but this seventeen year old body is weak even for human standards.
I needed time to become stronger.
Sure, I could inflict some well deserved pain, but it would be fleeting for a shifter who would heal quickly. But for me, I’d have some unnecessary broken or fractured bones that would take time I didn’t have to heal.
Jeremy bends down toward me, “Maybe I should teach you your place in a more memorable way?”
I clench my fists. What's a few broken bones anyway? He deserved everything I’d give him. Even with this weak body, I’d make sure I would inflict as much pain as I could.
His grin widens, his eyes gleaming with some disgusting thought as he leans closer.
But he quickly freezes, and the grin stretching his lips fades as he gazes at my face.
“Try…” I grit out, “And you’ll regret the thought ever having crossed your mind.”
His eyes slightly widen, before quickly curving upwards, a heavy and mocking laugh falling from his lips, with his two lackeys joining in.
“You're serious? You think you're something now?” Chuckles Jake.
“Who the hell put that thought in your head?” Jeremy pulls himself straight, a mocking smile stretching his lips. “You’re pathetic and weak, and can’t do anything for yourself.”
He jabs his meaty finger into my shoulder, a sharp sting searing from it and from the hit just moments ago.
“Fuck Micai, you don’t even have a drop of magic in you, do you?” He shakes his head and shrugs, “What the hell could you do to anyone? I’m sure even a human could knock you over with ease.”
Jake steps closer. “You’re nothing, don't forget that. We tolerate you, that's all. But if you step out of line, well…” His grin falls, his eyes hardening, “I wouldn’t want to waste my time having to deal with you, but I will if I have to.”
Such dark threats from such small boys. I’d seen and fought bigger beasts that would have them wet their pants and leave them balled up in a foetal position.
I try to pull myself up, ignoring the pain searing down my back and shoulder as I stand up straight, my gaze never leaving Jeremy and Jake.
Jake pulls Jeremys shoulder, “Let me handle her–”
His words are cut short as a stream of cold liquid and lumpy clumps of brown are poured over my head.
The brown liquid falls down my hair, trickling onto my face, and down my uniform until it reaches the floor.
The lumps and chunks roll beside it and down my face and clothes.
It leaves a trail of rotten sludge down my uniform and a smell so foul and rotten, it has Jake and Jeremy stepping back and as far away from me to avoid it.
A laugh rings out beside me, before a small carton hits the top of my head and then tumbles toward the floor. More laughs and chuckles resound out around me as Jake and Jeremy join in with the new group that's arrived. Their laughter echoes around the corridor as a voice giggles from beside me.
“I kept that just for you Micai. Aren’t you grateful?” The petite redhead smiles mockingly at me as a group of boys surround her.
“It's chocolate milk, don’t you like it?” She laughs, as more droplets and chunks of the spoiled milk fall down my face, while the boys around her chuckle and sneer at me.
The redhead is Ivy Harris, a classmate of Seria’s and her easily manipulated pawn.
This tiny green eyed witch relished male attention and wore way too much make-up, trying , and failing to cover up the hatred she had for her natural freckles.
Her small stature, and heavy hand with dark eyeshadow and eyeliner always reminded me of a particular dumpster diving pest. Well, I guess the boys around her were trash.
I brush my hand through my now wet and stench-ridden strands, pushing them back as a smile stretches my lips with the thought.
“What are you smiling at?” Ivy sneers, her petite face quickly twisting with her fiery temper. “Did your lonely, pathetic life drive you crazy already?” She begins to laugh again but soon stops.
“Maybe.”
I couldn’t really call myself ‘sane’ anymore, not with what I had been through, and crap like this was juvenile to me now, almost cute even. Not that it meant I would take it all lying down anymore.
“So maybe you should be more careful from now on, Ivy.” I meet her gaze as the laughing around us fades. An incredulous look contorts Ivy's face and wrinkles her brow, a huff of air falling from her lips before they open again. “Who do you–”
The bell rings above us, signalling the start of class.
Ivy's eyes flicker toward the classroom and then back to me before tightening at their corners.
“This isn’t over.” She hits off my shoulder as she passes me, heading into the classroom with the group of boys trailing after her.
I try to roll my shoulder out, the pain making me slightly wince. I’d had worse, but hopefully it would heal quickly. It looked like she wouldn’t be leaving me alone anytime soon, and if I remember correctly none of them had the personality to drop something when it came to messing with me.
I’d have to train and get stronger fast.
A throat clears behind me pulling me from my thoughts.
A blonde woman stands behind me, with a stack of papers in her hand pressed against her floral print dress.
She struggles to adjust her glasses as she gazes toward me. When she finishes fixing them, her eyes scan down my hair to my uniform. Her nose scrunches slightly, a look of pity in her eyes as she shakes her head.
“You can take the rest of the class off and clean up Micai. I’ll give notes from this lesson to another student to pass on later.” She gives me a nod and a small pat on my uninjured shoulder before heading into the class.
This teacher was either completely naive or oblivious. I wouldn’t be getting any notes, but I could still appreciate the reprieve she was giving me. I didn’t want to give those assholes the satisfaction of me walking in there covered in whatever this crap was.
Mrs. Fleur was the Music of the Arts teacher, and from what I remember she was always very messy and unorganised, but had more warmth to her than the rest of the faculty. She never treated me badly anyway.
I make my way down the stairway and out of the main building, heading toward the girls dormitory.
I needed a hot shower and fast, the sickly smell and spoiled liquid becoming sticky against my skin.
Days like these were tame compared to what they threw at me in my second year, dull even if I remember correctly. Not that any of that could hold a candle to what I’d survived in The Facility.
Either way, one thing was for sure, I wasn’t as strong as I needed to be to handle all the malice and attacks that were going to be directed at me.
And I had to be stronger, so I could not only stop the hit coming toward me, but break the hand throwing it.
Students here needed to know I wouldn’t take anything lying down anymore.
There were consequences for touching me.
And sooner or later, I would have them all pay in full.