INMARCESIBLE

06092013

08122012

09102014

Numbers.

I grew up seeing numbers my whole life. Not because my father was an accountant, but because everyone around me had numbers looming over their heads. Numbers made out of smoke, as if leaking out of their soul and hanging over them.

For the longest time I thought this was natural. Everyone had them and could see them. But eventually I realized that was not the case, and I was the only one who could see these numbers. I didn’t know what these numbers meant. Not until I turned thirteen and my father died. On 08th of April 2012.

08042012.

That was his number.

And thus I knew, what they meant. The day you die. And my world has never been the same since then.

~•••••••••••~

I stepped out of the car and into the thick hot heat of July in Georgia. Thanks to the humidity, my hair felt like it had tripled in size. And I was not at all fond of the feeling. In front of me, loomed Verona High, the mansion hovered proudly behind enormous creaky iron gates, flanked by row of maple trees, swaying gently to summer wind. Ivy grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. As a whole, the building looked for all the world like it had grown there rather than be built.

I squinted my eyes at the mansion which was soon going to be my school and boarding home as mom spoke, “Magnificent isn’t it, sweetheart. I’m sure you going to enjoy being here.”

“Erm...yes. I guess!” Was all I could manage as we reached into my trunk for my stuff. After dad’s death, nothing had been the same for us. Mom isolated herself, not being able to deal with the pain of losing dad. And as time passed by, her sorrow grew more profound. I, on the other hand, never felt as powerless as I did then. Unable to soothe mom, unable to fill in the hollowness in her eyes, all I could do was stand and watch as she fell apart.

And one day, mom just got out of bed and came to me in the middle of the night. And said, “Sara, let’s move.” And I knew what she meant. “Yes, mom. Let’s move on.” I said, but I didn’t know how I could move on from seeing a person’s death date.

We moved to Georgia to start things anew. Mom got a job as a real estate agent and I was here, in front of Verona High, pulling out my beat-up trunk out of the car.

“Honey, I know you’re gonna love it here.” She grabbed my face and kissed my cheeks as I nodded in silence. Mom seemed tired and there were heavy lines around her mouth, lines I’d never seen before. She was almost forty, but she could usually pass for ten years younger. I did not want to stress mom more than she already was. I hated to see her sad. So I smiled, as I kissed her goodbye.

I grabbed my trunk and pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder as I walked towards the giant of an old building. There were people everywhere, students and professors and busy stuff. But all I could see was numbers. I hung my head low as I walked swiftly towards the florescent-lit lobby of Verona High school. There by the lobby, stood a hatchet-faced woman with a clipboard clamped under her thin stick-like arms. Pointy cat-like spectacles hung to the bridge of her nose as she eyed me with unpleasant eyes.

“Name!” Her shrill gritty voice rung in my ears.

“Saraphina Valdez.” I answered. I was already regretting coming to this bizarre place. But I didn’t have much of a choice. After we moved, we’d seen difficult days. I wanted to give mom a chance to life once more. I thought moving out was the right thing to do. So I did.

“Hmm!” The woman’s weasel-like eyes peered over her spectacles, tilting her head downwards to see her clipboard, the light metal frames gliding a few millimeters down her beaky nose. Then she curtly said, “Very well, Miss Valdez, I am Miss Helen and you are in room number 502. Classes start at eight in the morning and late comers are not tolerated in any circumstances. I suppose you’ve read the school rule handbook?”

Honestly, I didn’t. I just was so wound up with everything else that I didn’t really have the time to read some stupid handbook. But I nodded nevertheless not wanting to meet her eyes. “Good! Then I suppose you know the rules Verona High abides by. But, let me repeat the absolute rules again; No roaming around the hallways after ten. Students are not allowed to leave the school ground after six and they are absolutely not allowed to go to the west wing of the third floor if they don’t want to get expelled.” She took a saccharine tone of voice, “Remember, follow the rules and no one gets in trouble.” I could tell this woman was an expert in giving people the evil eye. I nodded briskly and she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

Verona High was five storeys tall. The fifth storey was where the girls’ dormitory was located. The stairs were long and winded and there was no sign of an elevator. I looked up the stairs and gulped, did I have to drag my heavy luggage to the fifth floor through these stairs!

“Are you the new transfer student?” A gruff voice barked into my ears. Honestly, for a moment I thought my ears would fall off. I turned around to set my eyes upon a huge barrel-chested man with ruddy cheeks. This man was going to die in a month’s time. “I said, are you the new transfer student!” He snapped again.

“Y-Yes.” I muttered.

“Come with me,” He said as he grabbed my trunk and snatched my duffle bag from me and walked ahead.

I followed him into a silent dark hallway which seemed to have no exist to it. Finally after walking for about ten minutes we came upon what you would call an elevator, but not quite. How should I put this, the elevator looked like it was built hundreds of years ago, rusty and dusty. Making creaky sounds as we got into it. I was half scared the thing wouldn’t work and we would fall to our deaths inside this wretched thing.

“The elevator is only for special occasions. Students are forbidden to use it for classes or other activities,” the man, called Rudy grumbled. As if anyone would use it anyway.

When we reached my room he shrugged off the bags and said, “Dinner is at nine. Don’t be late.” And took off in a rush.

I entered what seemed like a girl’s room, the room was like the wonderland for comic driven recluses. The walls were bright green with strange cartoon posters sprinkled all around it. Two desks sat in each corner of the room, one littered with wadded up pieces of paper and pens and the other empty. A few shelves were pushed against the walls and filled with books. Some books sat on the floor in front of the selves, some on top of the messy pile of comforter that lay on the bed opposite to mine. And my eyes finally rested upon the owner of it all. She sat on her bed, her blond hair poker-straight and pulled back into a low ponytail. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and the freckles over her nose and upper cheeks half hidden under her huge glasses. And she was going to die within the next six years.

She passed me an awkward smile as I tossed off my duffle bag on the bed which was supposed to be mine.

“Hi!” She said.

“Hi.” I replied.

“Erm...I am Lena Marvel. Nice to meet you!” She offered in a small voice. She seemed skeptical of me, and she should be. I was good news to no one.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you too. I am Sara Valdez.” I mumbled back unenthusiastically. With that I climbed up my bed, pulled over the comforter and fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, it was the next morning. I had only meant to dose off for a while since I was tired. I had been tired for a while, not the kind of tired that needs a goodnight’s sleep. But a kind of tired that wears off one’s emotions and eventually become an ingrained part of your life.

“You’re awake?” I heard from the other end of the room.

“Yeah!”

“Oh great. I tried to wake you up yesterday, you know. But you seemed so deep in sleep that I didn’t want to disturb you.” Lena Marvel spoke up.

“Yeah!” I muttered, “Are you going to use the washroom now?”

“Oh no! Go ahead.” She smiled a toothy smile and I returned it with an awkward one.

I was not good with people. The inability to communicate with humans only grew more prominent after my dad died. I just didn’t need to know the expiry date of anyone close to me. Mom’s was hard enough.

I looked at my schedule and grabbed my backpack and sauntered off to my first class in Verona High. There were people everywhere. The hustle and bustle in the hallways made the dreary walls of Verona come to life. Smoke-formed numbers everywhere as people passed me by. ‘Of course, everyone has to die one day,’ I thought. But it still didn’t ease my nerves to know the date of their expiry. It was disturbing, and hence I never let anyone know about my power. I never tried to act upon it and just watched from the sidelines. After all, who was I to mess with fate?

I thought I would take this secret to my grave, but then...I saw him.

The boy without numbers.

TO BE CONTINUED...