Day 8

It looked like I was pulled out of my life and replaced in another dimension, where people had powers, and my mother smiled all the time.

"Honey, and then? Are we going to the toy store buy your security? I was thinking of getting a Superman or something."

"Superman?!" Sr laughed. "I prefer Batman."

   "... Or any of them." I sighed. "Still don't know if I should use my powers anymore."

They both stopped pouring honey on their waffles. I thought mom didn't like waffles.

"I can't control what I create. And if Superman starts a group of terrorists? Or if Batman starts giving free flowers at church and forget about protecting me?"

They exchanged worried looks. When did Mom and Sir get so close, by the way??

"Well, princess..." Sr checked his watch. It was a beautiful watch, round, with no numbers, and the contours inside were golden. "We'd better go to Oxygen now. It's your first day. Are you exited?"

First WHAT?

"You are going to a place called the Common Room, which is a huge space full of tables and chairs and Arian teenagers. It's where you can make a lot of new friends... Ah! don't worry!" Sr cleaned his sunglasses with Mom's napkin. "You already know Snowfields..."

•••

The common room was not that big empty place I first saw and got lost yesterday. Its entrance was actually hidden on the second floor. Mom and Sr had to stay behind, waving and wishing good luck from the car, because adults were not allowed at the Common Room.

But I didn't even had to make the effort of seeing the common room's doorknob.

The first thing I saw when the elevator stopped and slid its doors was a guy about 23 years old. His strong arms, placed against one of the windowsills, were completely lost in ink. There were tattoos everywhere, even in the lateral part of his chest, which was not covered by any clothe. A chill spread through my stomach. Not the same kind of chill I feel when I have to speak in front of the whole school, or when Oliver's body gets too close from mine. It was an icy, awful and unpleasant kind of chill.

I stayed still, like a statue, observing that guy. Because he was curiously handsome.

He wasn't moving at all. Was he paralyzed? Should I try to pass?

I gulped.

"What you want, girl?" His feature suddenly turned to me. He had a piercing in one of the nostrils.

Say something Angelina your idiot.

"Sorry, I was..."

"Trying to pass." He completed, looking at me as if I was some kind of insignificant poop under his shoes. And then, without changing the relaxed position he was in, he gave a boost on the windowsill, making his whole body go backwards against the opposite wall, on the other side. The sound of his back's skin hitting the cold cement was astounding.

That way, a sufficiently large space appeared for me to move on. I stepped forward. Every part of me had its own heart, beating desperately and messing up with my walk...

But the next second I felt the guy's hand close around my wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across my head; my mind felt as though it was about to split in two- I yelled, struggling with all my might. He let go of me. The pain lessened. I looked around wildly to see what he was doing, and to my own surprise, he kicked me to the ground with his knee.

I fell, numbly, with the arm he had touched pressed against the floor; my head almost blinding me with pain.

"Weak girl", he spat, "Won't survive a day. What did cute Gene told you? That you are special? That you are powerful?"

His shoes full of metal thorns nudged my ribs, making my body shrinks convulsively, the floor scraping my shirt.

"DAMON!"

A loud yell echoed from the end of the corridor. Something appeared, and it was a black mass, faster than any shadow I've seen before. It pinned the guy against the wall, and grabbed his neck with both hands.

"IF YOU TOUCH THIS GIRL AGAIN YOU WILL BE DEAD"

I let go an airless breath- a wimp. The bad guy, whose name must be Damon, had his throat immobilized by the shadow who ended up being a man. It was a man, and he was very tall, and strong, and I could see the veins of his hands while squeezing Damon's neck.... My eyes narrowed. Near the veins there were also weird brown spots, an amount of them, popping up on the places Damon's skin was touching. It was as though... Damon's skin could hurt people.

"Vince Snowfields- I thought you would-never- come back." His voice was suffocated, breaking in some parts.

The man's hands were now looking burned, raw, red, and shiny. I tried to scream, tried to make the man stop touching Damon; but nothing would come out.

"Well, glad I arrived just in time to see you scaring this girl. By the way, that is what your name means, right, Damon? Killer. Wait until your time comes."

Vince's hands were looking even worse. A yellowish matter was appearing from inside the injuries.

"STOP TOUCHING HIM!!"

          Damon turned his gaze to me, surprised, maybe, by my sudden existence. And Vince, seizing the moment, shoved the knee into Damon's stomach and pulled his head down, knocking him against the cement floor.

I always thought I would never live enough to presence something like that.

Damon fell on the ground a few feet from me. He started to cough red saliva, his tattooed abdomen running up and down- with Vince's knee mark right in the middle of it.

  I felt Vince's eyes watching me from above. My head was throbbing; but the killing pain from Damon's touch had gone away. I saw that Vince shoved his marked hands inside his black coat. He spent some time looking at my weak shape by his feet; and after that his shadow bypassed me and disappeared through a lateral door I hadn't noticed before.

I wanted to get up, to follow him. Whoever he was, wherever he was going; I wanted to go after the one who saved me.

I turned, very afraid, to where the tattooed guy was. The Common Room's doors were swinging. Damon was gone.