Turn Around (The coldest girl in Coldtown competition)

Did you ever feel like you were being watched, like the monster under your bed isn't just a childhood fear. Well you're right.

They hide in the darkness and the shadows, they hunt you till your back is against the wall and there is no where left to run. They feed off your fear, and rejuvenate themselves with your blood. They are the undead.

There is a way to survive, they will not harm you if you know they are their, It's their only law, their only rule. So if you want to stay alive. Turn around.

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5. Red Eyes Gone Blue

I couldn't forget his eyes, redder than blood, evil. It was the only way I could describe those eyes. The way they seemed to stare right into me, or maybe just me.

I never told my father about the man, which was the only way I could describe him, as a man. Everything about the guy was distinctly male, his firm jaw to his high cheek bones, the way his muscles had been so firm that his top had not been able to hide them, his jeans had hung low on his hips that showed off a distinct 'V' line where the bottom of the top hadn't quite stretched enough. His motorcycle boots looked like they would really hurt if they accidentally trod on your toes. 

It wasn't like I could say, 'hey, I saw a really hot guy with red eyes staring at me when  was chasing my dog through the woods?' Yeah because that was going to go down well, they'd ship me to a mental hospital before you could spell crazy. 

It didn't matter anyway, for the next couple weeks I didn't see the guy again. I met a couple girls that were my age who would be starting the new year at the high school with me; Maria and Joseline. They were nice girls, a little too bubbly perhaps, but maybe it was just me. 

When it came to the first day of school, I wasn't overly nervous or excited, I wasn't really overly anything. It was a school, the same kinds of clicks and the same kind of students or teachers as any school. You would have the populars, the inbetweeners, the nerds, the dramatics, the bad-asses, the wannabes and the burnouts, all schools had them.

Then as individuals you would have the sluts, the football players, the computer geeks, the loners, the girls who secretly crushed on the popular guys, the gays who were either saving coming out for after high school or found the balls to have already done it. You would get the really nice people, then you would have the honour students. Finally you would have the kids who were so stupid, you might actually beg them not to reproduce. Sometimes you got the rich kids, but those weren't indigenous to all high schools. 

"Willow come on girl, we don't want to be late for our first class of senior year!" Maria giggled, always with the giggling. She was wrong though, I very much wanted to be late for my first class of the year, and every other after that.

School wasn't a terribly exciting experience in my opinion, anything you wanted to learn you could learn off the internet and being social wasn't my favourite thing to do. Though it gave me a break from my father's constant murmurings about witches, magic and some sort of special circle. 

The school looked pretty old, and just like the rest of the buildings, it was grey and boring. Metal bars surrounded the school perimeter, was this an educational facility or a prison? No doubt it would feel like both. 

When I got to my first class, everyone stared at me like I was the bearded lady at Uncle Bill's road side freak show. It was really unnerving. 

"Ah, you must be out new student," the teacher said, looking up at me from his papers, "Everyone, this is Willow Davir our new student. I expect nothing but hospitable behaviour towards her. Tell us about yourself," he asked, though demanded might have been a more appropriate word.

Although he never did tell me his name, he has a bronze coloured plaque with 'Mr. Davidson' written on it. That must've been his name then, or there was a random plaque there for no reason.    

"Well, My name is Willow, I just moved here from Chicago to live with my dad. I'm seventeen and uh... Salem seems, a little different than I remember it being." I finished lamely. Hey, I could have just left it with my name and age. 

"Wonderful, does anyone have any questions for Miss. Davir?" Mr. Davidson asked. Inwardly I was groaning in social agony, but my rare social side forced a smile on my face. After all, Garret Davir's daughter did not cower in the face of rowdy high school kids. About a dozen hands rocketed up. 

"Isn't your dad, like, some sort of, like, rich guy, or, like, something?" Some blonde girl in the back asked, her fingers were twirling in her glossy hair and she had positioned herself in the please 'don't' look at my breasts position. I just nodded and ignored her. The amount of times she said 'like' was really annoying, seriously she must have been one of those dumb ass popular girls.  

"Why did you leave Salem in the first place?" A muscular guy with brown hair asked, I wasn't particularly fond of the way he looked at me if I'm honest. 

How was I supposed to answer that one? My dad is a raging lunatic and my mum didn't feel I was safe with him? Hardly. I just settled with the obvious and more common answer.

"Family drama." It wasn't a lie, more of an omission. Besides no one had asked for the gory details. Yet.

"Why did you come back to Salem." A deep, distinctly male voice enquired from across the room. If sex had a sound I wanted that voice to be it. It was husky and alluring, it seemed to wrap around me and comfort me yet at the same time, it caused shivers to run up and down my spine.

When I turned to look at the guy whom had asked the question I almost died from the shock because there before me, sat Mr. tall, dark and male. He was as perfect as I remembered him, but where red, evil eyes had flamed on his beautiful face, icy, impenetrable and harsh blue ones now stared at me, as cold as freshly fallen snow. 

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