Crapity crap on a stick of crap.

I ducked behind Damien, hoping that his large frame would obscure my much smaller one from view. It wasn't my brightest idea but hey, I didn't work well under pressure.

"Way to look guilty," Damien hissed at me.

"I don't look guilty," I shot back.

"Then why are you skulking behind me?"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

The man must have come into view because Damien immediately shut up and straightened his back.

I snickered. "You look like you have a pole shoved up your ass."

"That's funny, considering the fact that you're the one hiding," he hissed back. Damien grabbed my wrist and pulled me beside him, much to my annoyance. I guess he didn't want to face the music alone.

I bit my lip as we watched the man advance. He walked with a flair of dominance, like he owned the place. He probably did but still, it was unnerving.

He had on a black suit that screamed respect and his shoes were so damn shiny they reflected the light. I wondered whether he polished his own shoes or had it done. He looked like someone who would pay to get it done. I couldn't imagine him sitting there and polishing his own shoes. 

This guy was old but his leathery skin and grey hair were the only indicators of his age.

He stopped about a few meters away. "Do you think we should meet him in the middle or something?" I asked.

"No, wait. I'm sure he's just taking a break," Damien whispered back. I swallowed a laugh at the absurdity of our situation.

"You two, over there! Come here now!" he yelled.

Damien and and I shot each other a look of confusion before making our way to him.

We stood in silence in front of him, waiting to see what he was going to say. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at us.

"Explain yourselves or I'll be issuing you both one hour detentions at the end of today. Do you know who I am?" His eyes skirted over my left cheek before angling towards Damien. My brother gave my hand a little squeeze, letting me know that he was there for me.

"No," I said. I watched as the colour leached out of his face before returning full force. His face turned a motley shade of purple and I was half convinced he was going into cardiac arrest. Clearly, it was a rhetorical question but because I really didn't know who the hell he was, I could hardly be to blame.

As he was ready to explode, Damien cleared his throat, "We moved here a few days ago with our Nana so we're kinda new here."

The minute Damien finished, a smile lit up his face, "Well why didn't you just say so?"

I stared at the guy, clearly he had issues. I didn't know if I was afraid of him or amazed at the way he went from 0 to 100 then back to 0 again.

Turning to me he said, "Welcome to Cedarwood High, I'm Mr Evans the principal here. Follow me."

With that, he turned and led the way to the school. Damien and I stared at each other in shock, then slowly followed him into the school.

It was a large building, clearly housing many students. There was evident wear, like it had been there a long time.

The building was a mixture of browns and reds on the outside, almost as though someone ran out of one colour brick and decided to continue with the other just to get the job done.

West of the parking lot was a forest. It contained Cedar wood trees which I'm assuming was how the school got it's name. I only knew what they were because when I was much younger, my father used to teach Damien and I about wildlife. He was really into the survival thing. Us, not so much.

About a meter before we reached the front of the school, a sign was haphazardly hammered into the ground.

Welcome to Cedarwood High

Home of the falcons

The sign read. Underneath was a list of numbers to call and Mr. Evans' name.

"Go falcons, go," I whispered dryly to Damien. He snickered but muffled the sound with his hand when Mr Evans turned around and smiled at us.

Mr Evans opened the door and held it for us as we walked though. Ahhh, it was a lot cooler than outside that's for sure.

I went to sit on one of the four soft cushion chairs adjacent to the door but the Head teacher cleared his throat. Loudly. I took that to mean 'do not sit down'. Words would have been easier to be honest.

With a sigh, I pushed myself up and stood next to Damien. Mr Evans walked up to the receptionist desk and started taking.

I took that as an opportunity to look around the room. It had air con which was a blessing because the humidity outside was unbearable.

I walked over to the display cabinet which held an array of trophies. One for the best soccer team, one for chess, it looked like they had trophies for everything. They even had one for the best choir.

"Is there anything this school can't do?" I asked Damien, who came and stood behind me during my peruse of the room.

He snickered. "Probably not, eh?"

"I guess," I sighed.

"Hey, hey, hey." Damien turned me around to face him, "Stop thinking about the past, it wasn't your fault sis. Quit blaming yourself."

"How do you even know I was thinking about that?"

"You're my sister, I know things." He smiled at me, "Plus I have your back like you got mine. No one is going to hurt you! Okay?"

"Okay." I nodded slowly. I gave him a weak smile to show I was alright. I was happy to be blessed with an amazing brother and Nana who cared about me.

We moved over to a vase that was on display. Strange, I thought, what's so important about this?

I leaned in closer to inspect the plain looking vase. It was the traditional kind with two handles, the irregular sides suggested it was crafted by a hand that was either young or new to the clay making business.

I looked down at the plaque below it and gasped. It was created by an Annabelle Clarke. The same girl that was rumored to have committed suicide on school property. Her body was found in the water fountain. Death by fish - what a sad way to go.

The vase was placed as a memorial for her. She created it so it seemed to be the best way to remember her, or so I read.

"Damien," I whispered with worry, "do you see what I see?"

"Yeah," he drawled, "lets move the hell away from it."

I shuddered. "Agreed. It gives me the heeby jeebies."

"Right!" Mr Evans bellowed. His sudden outburst made me jump, accidentally hitting the vase and causing it to tip precariously off the stand.

Lucky for me, Damien effortlessly grabbed it before it fell.

I breathed out with relief. "Thanks Day."

"Yeah, no prob." He rolled his eyes, "Stay away from creepy crap, okay. The last thing we need is a ghostly stalker pissed off at us."

Mr Evans cleared his throat to get our attention. "Mrs Agnes will show you to your class room. Lessons have started, no dilly dallying in the hallways please." With that, he strode off to God knows where.

Damien and I stared at the woman in question. She was old, I'd peg her to be around late fifties early sixties. Her greying hair was shoulder length and framed her face in the most unattractive manner and making her look twice as old as she was.

"Here you go." She handed us each a packet containing a map of the school, a school planner and our timetabled lessons.

"Follow me," She droned out.

"Wait!" I blurted. "We were supposed to have a meeting with Mr Evans."

The woman turned and stared at me. I looked left and right, waiting for her to stop. Damien snorted in the back but didn't come to my aid.

"Never mind," I mumbled. Finally, the magic words broke her stare and she walked off, expecting us to follow her.

"Here we go," I whispered to Damien as we walked through the silent hallway to our first lesson - history.