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Chapter 9

Let me tell you something. Whoever is trying to threaten me is getting a lot better at it. Initially, I didn't think of it as anything at all. Just some jealous person who wants to scare me. But now, the messages are getting more and more consistent. And it is really creeping me out.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Argh! Nosy and annoying alarm clock! Can't you just let me lie in my bed for once and think about things... Without having to disturb me all the time? I stole a quick glance at the alarm clock. 7.15am. Something tells me that it's time to go.

Oh, bed. I love you so much. But the nosy alarm clock won't let us be together. Just wait for a while and I'll be back.

Groaning, I got out of bed and grabbed a random pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top, along with a pale pink loosely knitted sweater. With that, I walked into the bathroom and closed the door shut with a slam.

I quickly splashed my face with cold water to wake myself up. After wiping my wet face with a hand towel, I looked at myself in the mirror. I see a girl staring back at me with her sea green eyes. Her hair is a total mess above her head. When I laughed, she did too. When I started combing my hair, she did too. Once I'm done with combing my hair, her hair looks a lot better as well.

I sighed. Is it so hard to believe that it's already January? And my birthday is coming so, so soon. Well, I wouldn't say so soon. To most people, it is still a long time away. But not for me. Another three months is nothing to me.

I changed into my clothes and immediately left the bathroom. My brown leather sling bag was hanging at the foot of my bed. My phone, on the other hand, was left lying on my bedside table. I walked over to it – grabbing my bag along the way – took hold of it and dumped it into my already-messy bag.

Which reminds me, I haven't checked if I have any new messages yet. Maybe I do. I dug through the contents of my bag and fished my pink LG flip phone out. True enough, I do have a message. The words '1 new message' was flashing on the screen.

Somehow, even though the message was from an unrecognized number, I can tell who it is from.

I opened the message and sighed as I read its contents. It's from that psycho dude – or girl – that keeps on sending me spam messages.

"You're being way too reckless. You are not careful anymore. Watch out. Trouble is on its way to find you. And I'm pretty sure it'd find you, considering you're quite the trouble magnet yourself."

Who in the world is this crazy person? Who in the whole wide world is trying to threaten me non-stop? Even though I never bother to reply to any of those messages, they still keep on coming. Without fail. I must be receiving five messages, average, a day, give or take one or two.

I grabbed a pair of white gloves and slipped them on as I walked out of the apartment building. A wave of cold air swept across my face as I walked onto the street. I shivered slightly from the chilly atmosphere. I hugged myself to try – in vain – and keep myself warm as I walk. But, obviously, that did not help at all.

However, I just continued walking. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. Walking to school. All alone in the streets. I wish Gray could've picked me up today. But no! He can't come to school today. Why? He caught a terrible flu from his trip to Paris.

I sighed for the third time that morning as I entered the cream coloured school building. I just realised something. There's homeroom today. Very boring and useless, I know, but at least it means that there is fifteen minutes left of even more useless and boring Calculus.

Well, that's better than nothing since I am never able to understand a single thing the teacher is talking about.

Squeezing and weaving my way through crowds of students, I slowly made my way towards homeroom, with my phone silently waiting at the bottom of my bag for the next message that I am to receive.

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I ended up spending my lunch break in the quiet and empty – with the exception of the librarian and a couple of teachers – library. I don't feel like eating, no appetite really, so I thought that I might as well make use of this time and do my homework.

History, Calculus and English homework. Which just as well sucks because those are my three worst subjects. I sighed. Why oh why must teachers give us so much homework? School have just reopened from the winter break for goodness sake! We are all still in the holiday mood!

I sighed for what seems like the thousandth time that day as I looked down at my History homework, chewing one end of my pencil at the same time. An essay question. Oh, great. Just my luck huh?

Analyse similarities and differences in methods of political control in TWO of the

following empires in the Classical period.

 Han China (206 B.C.E.–220 C.E.)

 Mauryan/Gupta India (320 B.C.E.–550 C.E.)

 Imperial Rome (31 B.C.E.–476 C.E.)

My teacher said that that was just to get our brains to 'start up' again. To get ready for our upcoming History test. She said that this is one of the easier kind of questions in the test paper. But I've never seen a harder History question in my life! I am so going to flunk that test.

I mean, what the heck happened in Han China? What is it even? And I've never even heard of Mauryan-slash-Gupta India. And sure I've heard of Rome but I don't know any political control thingy that ever happened there in who-knows-how-many-years-ago.

I almost immediately gave up on my History essay and decided to start some work on an easier assignment – at least I hope it's easier – English. It's my best subject among the three, but I am still terrible at it anyways.

I stared at yet another essay question for a whole five minutes before any of it actually got to my head. When it finally did, I realised how ingenious this question is. It's so easy to write, yet at the same time, they make it so hard. How is that technically possible?

Money is the root of all evil. Do you agree? In no less than FOUR pages, discuss and give relevant reasons to support your answer.

Hmm... Let me see... Money is the root of all evil huh? Agree or don't agree? Agree or don't agree. Money is something like the root of all evil, but there are some people who do evil because they like it. But money indirectly promotes evil and wrongdoings...

Before I could even think of an answer to the question – let alone think of the relevant reasons to support it – the bell rung. Groaning, I shoved all of my uncompleted homework – that I didn't even get the chance to start on. Not even one – into my bag and got up.

I exited the library and started jogging a little to class, not wanting to be late for my all-time favourite subject: Art.

~~~ ♥ ~~ ♥ ~~ ♥ ~~~

"Okay class. Today, you are going to paint a garden. It really doesn't matter what kind of garden you are painting, I just want your painting to be about a garden," Miss Abigail's kind voice boomed throughout the quiet class.

I chuckled at Miss Abigail's announcement of the topic. I had already thought of what to paint before she could even finish making the announcement. It is so simple and easy, yet so elegant and perfect.

My lips curved into a smile as I dipped my favourite brush in the crystal clear water and painted a wet streak across the paper. I wetted the upper part of the paper before dipping my paintbrush into the light blue paint – very lightly, making sure that but does not have too much paint on it – and painted it against the wet splotch I had made on the paper.

I just continued making short and quick streaks of colour, drawing with paint and painting itself, totally losing myself in the art that I just love to do so much.

"Wow Willow," I heard Miss Abigail gasp in shock and awe from behind me.

I blushed and smiled at the compliment from my teacher, considering that her artworks are up in the state art museum, getting a compliment from her is a real feat to accomplish. "Th... Thanks Miss Abigail," I stuttered.

I turned to stare at my own work. It was the scene of a misty Japanese garden at dawn. All of a sudden, the bell rang, making me jump from surprise.

"Willow, would you please leave your painting on my desk? I would like to put it up for the world to see," she told me overdramatically.

She winked at me and I chuckled, but nodded my head.

I gathered up the rest of my things and shoved them into my leather sling bag. I got up and holding up my semi-wet artwork, I put it on the teacher's table. Then, I turned my heel and made a beeline for the exit, but a sudden vibrate in the back pocket of my jeans caused me to stop in my tracks. I reached for my phone, pulled it out, and continued walking.

"1 new message," the screen flashed for the second time that day.

My hand shook vigorously as I opened the message to read it. My heart started beating incredibly fast from fear and beads of perspiration were forming on my forehead.

"You okay Willow?" Miss Abigail asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I answered as calmly as I could.

I quickly paced out of the room, with my phone still in my hand, the message still left unopened.

Once out in the hallway, I headed towards my locker first, the anxiety quickly building up inside of me. Upon reaching my locker, I opened the combination lock and yanked the door open. I just left it as it is as I read the new text message.

It was as if the whole world just came to a standstill. It was as if the whole world had just collapsed on top of me. My heart was beating unbelievably fast. I started panting from anxiety, fear and worry combined.

"Willow Rayne... Today will be the last day of your comfort... Say goodbye to everything you have. Want to know why? Just wait for tomorrow to come..."

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