Chapter One: Nose Bleeds

Tim Adair

The room was an eruption of movement. Pens moved quickly scratching on paper, filling the stark white pages as they were being dictated to. At the front of the room stood an old man, large glasses filling his face of wisdom. Near the back of the room sat a young man, curly blonde hair creating wings from having a black hat perched on his head. He wore a black sweater rolled up to the elbow, a pair of cargo shorts and an aged, worn pair of Doc Martins, they were unlaced making the tongue flop forward from lack of support. A headphone wire dangled from his ear, music could faintly be heard from the tiny speaker inside. “Psst, Derek, iPod now, I’m bored.” The young man turned to face the speaker. This young man was called Adam, he and Derek had been friends since elementary school. “Krizzit, turn around, Derek that means you too keep writing; Headphones out gentlemen.” shouted a voice from the front of the room.

Derek turned around with a smirk playing on his lips. Krizzit was a nickname that Derek had received when he was in elementary school. He was quite young when he got the nickname; Adam had dared him to stick his finger into a power outlet for a piece of gum. Derek was a pretty brave kid at the time, so he did it. Krizzit is the sound people say he made as the electrical current jolted through his small body. Derek didn’t remember much from the accident but he survived with only a few faint scars on his right forearm. The scared were barely noticeable, only when you looked very closely did you see them.

…

Adam’s voice filled my hearing, in a hoarse whisper” Derek iPod now, I’m bored.” I turned to face him, and with a quick gesture I tossed him my iPod. “Krizzit, turn around, Derek that means you too keep writing; Headphones out gentlemen.” Spinning back forward I looked on the blank piece of paper sitting on my desk. Abstract lines were drawn on the corners, it’s just what I do, every piece of paper has these abstract lines, and I’ve been doing it since the accident. The soft ticking of the clock filled my senses. My hand sent a shiver up my whole body, “Damn it, Adam do you have any tissue?” I whispered. The sensation was the same every time. My arm would begin to go numb, the feint veiny scars became more prominent, and my nose would begin to bleed.

The soft feel of a balled up tissue brushed against my ear. Doctors weren’t sure why these odd symptoms occurred but they did, but that didn’t mater to me they told my parents I wouldn’t live after the accident. “Mr. Wilifred, Can I go? My nose is beleedin’ again.” Mr. Wilifred nodded me to leave. I quickly excused myself to from the classroom. Blood was beginning to fill the balled up tissue. I quickly jogged to the bathroom, my nose bleed shave been known to knock me out due to blood loss. I kicked the door of the bathroom as I hurried to the sink. Blood began to free flow the second I turned on the tap.

I looked at the mirror, and all that filled my vision was a serious boy staring at me over my shoulder. His violet eyes tore through my body making all the nerves in my body to be on edge. “Got a problem?” I mumbled with all of the force I could muster. No answer. I looked back to the blood that had stopped running down my face. I heard a faint click as I saw a long slender piece of moist wood that looked extremely sharp. “Give me your arm, Derek.” I reluctantly held out my right arm. “This will hurt.” I flinched as the tingling sensation numbed my arm. I looked down at my arm; he had scrawled some weird symbols on my forearm:

ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛁᛟᚾ ᛒᚱᚨᚹᛖᚱᛇ ᛋᚹᛟᚱᛞᛈᚨᛚᛇ

“Here take these,” the boy said as he flourished three short blades towards me, “We have a fight to win my brother.” With that the boy kicked the bathroom door open, readying a blade in each hand as he did so. I cautiously followed him into the hall.