No Title.... Part Two

Please, if you do read this, I would LOVE feedback of any kind!
***********************************

As we walked to the Art studios for our next lesson, Nate joined us. Grabbing hold of our bags and swinging us behind him in some tag team wrestler type move. We screamed, half panicked, half delighted. A golden pink hue rose in Anya's cheeks and I smiled secretly to myself as I noticed he held on to her bag a little longer than mine.

We have known Nate since Primary school and this kind of physical banter was common between us. But lately he seemed taller, leaner, more defined. His mid brown hair shone with coppery accents and looked deliberately styled more often now. His hazel eyes had always sparked but to coin a phrase he was definitely growing into himself. And we had all noticed!

Though the pleasure of thinking he might like Anya half as much as she liked him was quickly replaced. I felt nervous, I could tell the issue of the marks wouldn't go away. Others would notice soon and I had not got any ideas for a credible cover story. Dark thoughts crowded my mind of all the various ways it could go wrong and worry thrummed in my head and slid down my throat.

I perched on the stool in front on my easel and began to wrestle the tangled woes from my brain. I loved Art and Mr Rich was an amazing teacher. I wasn't highly artistic in a traditional sense, my drawing was pretty basic but I thrived on creativity and ideas . And here I was allowed to express myself however I liked, even if it didn't quite fit the project, Mr Rich would find a way to make it work. Apparently I was "A talented Artist, in someway."
and he was determined to help me find out. I pushed the thoughts out of my head as I drew out my project folder and slipped into the design process- 3D sculpture using recycled man made materials.

The hour passed comfortably and quickly and I had planned several ideas using reclaimed masonry. I had offered to tidy up the studio as it got you out of assembly, earned house points and besides Mr Rich let you play your IPod through his stereo. So everyone filed out and I was left alone.

It was then that I heard the noise, it wasn't that loud at first. I couldn't really hear it over the music but I guess there was only one of them then.

The Art Studio was at the top of the block and had a slanted 70's style metal roof with exposed metal beams inside. Slanted glass skylights covered one side, allowing dusty light to filter through into the room. This is where they were. Sharp taps resonated across the room, growing in loudness and pitch. I froze. The feeling of no longer being alone had consumed me whole. The sketching pencils never reached the pot as I quickly glanced up, knowing the whole time what would be there to greet me.

Large, glossy black Ravens crowded the skylights. Their talons scratching at the glass to achieve more purchase. Each beak pecked rhythmically at the glass, all mourning bead eyes fixed on mine. They seemed never ending, like a blanket of feathersome fear suffocating me and filling the room, every inch with Chilling and threatening noise.

I wasn't aware I was screaming. I couldn't even really recall the events of the next few moments but I guess I must of been loud or prolonged or both as staff fled into the room and crowded me with questions and concern. Mr Rich wound open the skylights and the remaining birds flew off.

I found myself in the Medical Room, sweet tea in one hand,
Mrs Courtney, my head of year sat smoothing the other. The dark thoughts had returned, questions were bound to be asked. And I didn't have a reasonable answer to any of them and that would then lead to more unanswerable questions. Only they did have answers, just not rationable, level headed answers. But I would need to think fast as my parents had been called and were on their way.