Starseeds: The Broken-Winged

| 5 | Freak

Ryker Lordaire

I swung my legs onto the bench and stretched, releasing a gratifying, comforting groan, and relaxed. It's morning – probably around seven – and I'm not so far away from St John's High School. I'm in the empty park, relieved to have some quality time for myself. School starts in about twenty minutes, so I gotta make this quick.

Glancing around my surroundings, I made sure no one is around – an adult, a teenager, or even an authority figure (man, I'm doomed if the police caught me, but I can get away with it). It's illegal to smoke weed in England, so I had to take precautions.

Pulling up the top of my hoodie, I fervently took out my lighter, zealous to get high. I wanted nothing more than to forget about the world for a moment. I want to feel like I'm floating. I wanted to forget about the Demons. About Starseeds. All that s**t.

I lightened up the end of my weed and inhaled it. Exhaling, a puff of smoke flee from my lips, fogging in front of my like a cloud. I'm addicted to smoking and drinking. It's my skill to escape this s**t I am.

I was about to inhale the blunt again when, suddenly, I heard someone sigh heavily. I didn't jump, I didn't get apprehensive or came to the conclusion that someone caught me, because I already know it's her.

I turned my head to meet those entrancing eyes of hers – a mixture of grass-green and wood-brown, searing with the look of wisdom and valour. Two traits that makes her ten times more attractive. Her straight hair, auburn with natural copper-blonde streaks, plummeted down below her shoulders.

"'Sup, Noelle."

Noelle Forrester. A girl I knew ever since we begun secondary school. She's a Starseed like me, but she's an Earth Elemental. I'm a Fire Elemental, just like Dad. Aqua is a Water Elemental, just like Mom.

Noelle's father was Russian. Her Mom's Jamaican. So she got that mixed-race skin tone beautifying her, yet, for a mixed-race, her skin is lighter – lighter than tan. She's undeniably beautiful. Everybody in Year 10 knows that. The guys got the hits for her, but she never pays attention to them. She never pays attention to guys. Not anymore. Not since three months ago, when she had her first date with Adam Morrison. She said the date went horrible.

Noelle glared at me, her hands on her hips. "What the hell are you doing?" she snapped, evidently revolted as she glanced at the blunt.

"Having my s**t," I said casually, waving the blunt in my hand. "I thought you already knew that?"

"I know weed is shit."

"Hey, don't say that to my weed," I said, attempting to glare but failed. She's too beautiful to get mad at.

"I thought you promised you will stop smoking!"

I shrugged. "Sorry, love. Promises ain't my thing."

"It's illegal!"

"Does it look like I care?"

No one in the school knows about my addictions. Except for Noelle and Uncle Davis. Davis always put the drugs to the bin, but his attempts to make me stop are worthless. Either way, nearly majority of the students in St John's High School smokes. They mostly smoke those shisha pens – which I have at home – but it's, like, an every-day thing now in Ilford's secondary schools, anyway. In fact, nearly all secondary schools in England smoke shisha. And weed. And cannabis. And cigarettes.

I inhaled the blunt. Noelle scoffed, muttering obnoxious things about me, and stepped back as I blew out the smoke slowly.

She repeated the same questions I hear every time: "Why do you smoke? Don't you care about what will happen to you?"

"Nah." It's the truth. I don't give a damn about my health. Let my health f**k up. It's not as if it'll go away any time soon.

I know how my future will be like. It's much worse than taking drugs. Since I'm a Starseed, I must obey the Task Archangel Michael gave us. I must fight the Demons for a lifetime, sent them back to Hell so the humans can be safe. I must make the Earth a better place for the humans to live in.

But where the hell are the good outcomes in that? These stupid-arse humans will still wreck this world, and soon, when they really f**k things up big time, they're gonna whine and won't accept that it's their fault this world is trash.

They don't know we exist. They used to believe in us, but eventually they've forgotten about us. We're only stories to them. Rare ones. However, some humans – like, five percent of them – knows we're alive, and they're trying to slaughter us. Why? Because they think we're Satan's arseholes. Really? We're the ones risking our arses to save them!

Ever since Mom's disappearance, I had to leave Aqua. I had to. It was for her f*****g safety. I'm a f*****g nuisance. A f*****g monster. I tried to kill myself, but this b***h inside me is preventing it. Damn my life. f**k my life.

Davis told me that I'm a Starseed when I was nine. He trained me to become a better fighter – taught me the martial arts, made me a sexy Karate Kid (just kidding) and taught me how to use a gun, a sword, a dagger and other types of weapons. In fact, I have a gun in my bag in case something bad happens – like a Demon attacking the school.

The gun doesn't hurt humans. It only hurts Demons. Our types of guns were designed that way.

I tossed the blunt away and stepped on it. I turned to Noelle, who scrunched up her nose. She gagged. "Ugh. Gross. You smell."

I blinked. It was in that moment I forgot the cologne. Damn it. "Uh, got some perfume?"

Noelle arched her eyebrows. "You know perfume doesn't get rid the smell of weed. You're going to get busted, Ry."

"But your perfume is strong. It's a perfume for female Starseeds, right? Your Gran made it, didn't she?"

"You're going to smell like a girl."

"And people will think I f****d a girl. That's fine. Gimme it."

Noelle sighed. Her hand went to her backpack and she drew out her home-made fragrance bottle. She sprayed onto my clothes about ten times before putting it back.

"Well?" I say, waving my hands wide open.

"You smell like a girl."

I grinned. "Good."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's go."

We walked through the park. I swung my arm around Noelle's shoulders. She jumped and pushed them off. I sighed. With other girls, I can get them easily. I got, like, ten girls to fall for me. Noelle, on the other hand, she's a challenge. She doesn't make it a chase, but it sure seems like she does.

I remembered the first time I saw her. She was looking cute in her uniform, like an emblematic, classical school girl willing to be educated to acquire a professional job. I couldn't help but stare at her. It seemed as if my eyes are drawn to her. It was like they found something they had been looking for millennia, and now, they didn't want to risk losing it. At first, when the sentiments incited in me, when I suddenly kept on thinking about her, I didn't know why I was acting like that way. I didn't know what they meant.

Now I do.

I wanted to talk to her. To create a friendship, at least. But I was too shy. I was afraid she would think unenthusiastic of me. I'm the freak of St John's High School. Everybody thinks I'm bizarre, different. They don't talk s**t about me because they know what I can do – not the Starseed s**t, they don't know about that, but they know I can knock them out.

I beat up this guy before and I knocked him out unconscious. He had a concussion and had to go to hospital. I swear punches and hits don't give you concussions. From a human impact, it's not likely. But when you're a Starseed, when you're a freak, you can not only give them concussions, you can end them.

When I properly met Noelle, it wasn't sweet. It was not cliché. It was not romantic. It was ghastly. I met her in this very park when I was eleven. Around six in the evening. I came here for a smoke (yes, I even smoked when I was eleven. I started when I was ten), and I saw four men traumatising, taunting, intimidating and assaulting Noelle. Attempting to use her. She was trapped in between them and a tree. She tried to run, but she felt light-headed. She was having an attack, a panic attack, because she's claustrophobic.

I attacked those men. I punched them. I told her to run. She did. I turned to the four men who were laughing. 'Think you could frighten us?' they taunted. My response was silent, yet grisly and spiteful.

It came out of me.

I couldn't control it.

It dominated my mind, my head, my systems and my body.

The next day, I woke up in my room, covered in blood. I washed myself to get rid of the stains, and when I went to the living room, the BBC News was going on. And one of their reports was of a murder in Seven Kings Park, Ilford, Essex. Four homicides. The legs ripped from their stomachs, with their intestines gushing out of the insides of their bellies. The skulls were cracked open, showing their brains.

It wasn't the first time I killed.

I wanted to stop it.

But I couldn't.

It's the dominant.

And I'm the submissive.

Now you see why I'm a freak?

During break, my friend, Brandon, was eating his packet of Sensations. I was staring at Noelle. She's sitting with her horde of friends, the type of friends people in our year group classified as the popular clique. She was laughing at something her friend whispered into her ear, her lips slanted upwards into a gorgeous smile. Her laugh is like a melody. A sweet, heart-warming melody. Beautiful. Like her.

"Yo?" Brandon waved his hand in front of my face. I blinked, looking at him. Brandon sighed. "Look, dude, why don't you just ask her out?"

"No," I said. "Why would a girl like her go out with some freak?"

"You're not a freak, man. You're human." 

I snorted. Brandon doesn't know I'm a Starseed, obviously. He doesn't even know what I'm doing to myself. He doesn't know what's happening to me. 

"You guys are, what, best friends? You're both close. Everybody can see that. She's closer to you than anyone in this school. Why do you doubt yourself?"

"She deserves someone better," I murmured, narrowing my eyes at her. "And why would she like me?"

"Because you're hot," Brandon replied immediately. Then, he added: "Don't take that in a gay way. Not that there is nothing wrong with being gay. Gay is cool. I'm just saying – you're pretty good-looking. And you're nice, rational, wise, strong, funny, sarcastic –"

"Okay, I get it."

"Just give it a go, man. And if it doesn't work, then screw her. She ain't worth it."

She is, though. She is worth it. I think she's the only one who can save me, who can aid me, who can comfort me in my untameable episodes of trauma and evil.

The bell rang, and everyone sprung up from their seats. I bumped my fist with Brandon's. 'I'll see you at lunch, yeah?' I say. He nodded and we parted ways to our third-period-classes.

I came out of the cubicle and approached the sink to wash my hands. The boys' bathroom is vacant, and dirty. There were toilet paper glued to the floor, with puddles and yellow fluid leaching around. The school's toilets were disgusting.

Pushing the tap down, water spluttered out, and I washed my hands before rubbing the soap across my skin. I was the only one in the bathroom, and that's good, because usually, at this time of the day, it comes and stalks me. It comes and terrifies me.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I saw her. The artificial lights in the ceilings were illuminating, radiant, yet they did not reach the dim corners. Immerging from the shadowy spaces was a woman.

Her clothes were ragged with red smudges and red stains. Blood. Her hair, black as raven with grey tresses, cascaded down her shoulders, cascaded below her breasts, and reached her waist. Her devilish eyes beamed at me through the mirror.

She is not real.

Unfortunately, in my head, she is.

Her lips tilted up into a smile. Don't fall for it. It may seem humble. It may seem benevolent. But it's a trick. A trick to seduce you. To lure you in. Her tattered clothes caressed the grim floor. Her feet took one menacing, threatening step, each full of vows to raze. To create havoc.

A loud noise of chatter resonated outside. The irritating voice of Adam Morrison was heard, along with his sidekicks. They entered the bathroom and saw me. They paid no attention to the woman in the room. She's not visible to them. Only to me.

Adam smirked. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? Freak boy?" Adam is lanky. He's skinny with a mess of curly red hair. His eyes were brown, and he has unattractive freckles blemishing his face.

I ignored him. The title hurts me. It hurts me bad. Because it is the truth. I am a freak. A monster. Ever since I was young, they decided to haunt me, to follow me, to stalk me . . . And there was nothing I could do to stop them from consuming me.

I walked to the hand-dryer to get rid of the wetness of my hands. I felt Adam stand behind me, and I turned around to be faced with his dark-chocolate eyes. The woman standing in the corner smirked, knowing the company of these humans will piss me off.

"Move, Morrison," I ordered.

"Wasn't it your mother who died?" Adam enquired, ignoring my request and surprising me with his pure inquisitiveness.

"She's not dead," I said through gritted teeth.

Adam smirked. "No one found her for seven years, bro. I'm pretty sure she's dead. But I'm curious – who killed her?"

"No one killed her." I swallowed the saliva down my throat as the woman's smirk enlarged. Her dark eyes were lethal. She knows I'm getting provoked. She knows I'm only a minute away from exploding.

"Was it your father?" Adam guessed. "He was there, wasn't he? It was obviously him. Or . . . was it your sister?"

"My sister was innocent," I say, "she had no idea what was happening until she woke up."

"Innocent?" Adam threw his head back and contemptuously laughed. The others joined in, though they did not comprehend the joke. "She's a freak. Just like you. I'm sure no one likes her. I think her bullies will kill her."

"She has no bullies."

"You have bullies. So it must mean your sister does, too. You and your f*****g family are the freaks in this world. And guess what? The people know that. The people know your family are weird ever since they heard about your mamma's disappearance on the news. Your mom's a freak. Your dad's a freak. You're a freak. And so is your sister."

I grabbed Adam by the collars of his shirt and tossed him into the wall next to me. His friends inhaled astonished breaths, some full with fear, as the wall cracked due to the impact. Adam collapsed to the floor, groaning. Blood seeped from his mouth.

I picked him up by the neck, escalating him high in the air. My grasp around his neck tightened, and he wheezed, his hands clawing at my hands, trying to pry them off. "My family are not freaks. Nor is my sister." My sister is more than a freak. She's angelic. Important. "I'm the only freak. And you're quite late realising that now, Adam."

My hand hammered his stomach. Adam howled in pain, his face turning blue from my compressing grip. "I know what you do, Adam. You don't only hurt people with words, you bully them, too. I've seen you assaulting that poor Year 7 lad in the canteen yesterday. The lad was bleeding, and you never cared. You laughed and moved away, leaving the lad in pain. I've seen you pulling girls' hairs. I've seen you slapping others. And the teachers knew what you are – a bully – but they don't f*****g do anything. They don't throw your f*****g ass out of the school. Bullies are the real freaks in this world, Adam. And you're one of them."

I leaned closer and whispered into his ear. "I don't do promises, Adam, but if you hurt anybody else in this school again, I promise I won't hurt you . . . I promise will kill you."

I tossed him back onto the wall. The wall fractured, pieces of bricks tumbling backwards into the hallway outside, creating a hefty gap. Adam groaned on the floor, rolling onto his back. His fingers stroked his already-bruised neck. He coughed, wheezing, and tried to say something, but the words came out as a rasp.

"Got it?" Adam didn't answer. I took steps closer to him, and Adam whimpered with fright, cowering away from me. He nodded his head swiftly. I looked at Adam's crew. "That goes to you arseholes, too."

I walked through the fissure in the wall and stepped over a weeping bully. The hallway wasn't vacant; it had at least three of four people – all students. Nevertheless, eventually, the doors to the classrooms thundered open, and swarming into the hallway were probing students and teachers, wondering what the uproar disturbing them was.

They gasped, examining the damage I've caused. They stared at Adam, who was choking and coughing and groaning, then at Adam's so-called friends, then at me. They must've detected that I done all of this because they all stepped back – even the teachers.

Except for Noelle.

She stood in front of everyone, glaring at me. I shrugged, smirking.

I had to do something, I told her. We, Starseeds, have Telepathy. We can mind-link to others without the humans even noticing.

You didn't have to choke the life out of him!

He's not dead.

He's hurt!

He needed to learn his lesson. We can't let humans like him roam around and hurt others who are innocent. He's sick in the head.

So are you.

I laughed. The people frowned, wondering why this creep was laughing. I stifled my laughter and legitimately smiled at Noelle, shaking my head. Tell me something I don't know.

The horde of people parted, and walking through the space they've created was the head-teacher. She halted and gasped, flabbergasted as she took in the whole scene. Adam's friends have now hauled him up to his feet, and they glared at me.

The principal copied their glare and bellowed: "Ryker Lordaire, in my office. NOW!"