This event gets eleven 👍🏻 up. We laugh a lot, we cried a little and we ran some too. But we worked hard. 😊 We managed to fill 216 boxes so that 216 kids who could not celebrate their birthday because of poverty, can now celebrate their birthday. @stichtingjarigejob is a great cause and we loved working with them. #hahd #Hahdnl #haveahartday #westnetherlands #hannahhart #harto #Hartosexuals #Voluntering #Volunteer (bij Stichting Jarige Job) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpSs5TmCciX/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=j8qitkk614t7
This is some kind of arrangement that I did to a @harto and @chestersee's song in tunesday. A rocky start but I got there. https://youtu.be/AKB58sbHaPA the part that I did was minute 4:19 I believe. #drums #drumsonly #tunesday #harto #hannahhart #chestersee
“Look at me, okay?” the man hissed his words out, almost like his saliva was filled with the very venom that dripped from his teeth. It should have burned, his own words as they slid past his throat, the conscious thoughts he was so prided for sharing. “That thing… that girl. She’s not like me, she’s not like you. She’s not like most.”
Grace resented that statement. One or two genetic differences didn’t’ make her completely different from the group of savage people surrounding her on every side. They were ready; ready for what she didn’t’ know. It’s not like she could take any of them without a formulated plan.
Her eyes darted between the group around her. They were all dressed in dark clothing, most of them bundled up against the cold. Grace was different. She struggled to keep her composure, struggled to keep her hold on something other than fear. If she focused too much on the fear she would end up on the front page of more than one tabloid.
The teenager had a feeling that they knew exactly what she was capable of, though. Her hair was standing up on end. “Look, I did nothing wrong. I’m just walking through the woods.”
One of the only girls in the group, the one the man kept teaching, was looking at the slick-haired human now. He smelled of hair gel and cigarette smoke. Maybe it was from something fancier, like cigars that were flown in exclusively in pine boxes. They were rolled and bound, finally being wrapped in think sheets of gold. But that was just a guess.
“She looks like me,” The girl said, more out of curiosity than anything. “How do you know you’re not in sighting murder here?”
“You’ll know.” The dark man lifted his chin, “But of course there are more blatant ways of figuring out exactly what we want to know.”
Grace tensed. Her heart was in her throat at this point, pounding so roughly against her palm that she could swear the strangers around her could hear it too. They couldn’t though, but someone had to. If she would get out of this alive, they had to.
In one swift motion, the hot edge of a blade slashed against the edge of Grace’s cheek. It was warm at first, the subtly of the pain dripping from the blood that now poured across her cheek. Her eyes were trained on the leaf coated ground. Her breathing was heavy, a rough heat followed, like a bee sting. The girl had gasped, close to covering her eyes, but instead, she grasped the man's upper arm.
“What the hell, Michel?” She glowered, “What did you just do!?”
“Relax, she’ll be fine.” He said, voice still steady with gravel, Grace was too stunned to stop him from placing his could touch under her chin. He lifted her gaze to his. “Won’t you?”
She swallowed unevenly, swatting his hand away. She knew the very wound he had created with a pocket knife was sealing in front of their eyes. It left a faded red line, but not he large scar it should have provided. Once again, the girl with sharp green eyes let out a breath that was similar to a gasp.
“See,” The man grinned “She’s not like us. She’s not human.”
Her mouth was dry, air filling her lungs to the point of not having much room left. Grace wanted to cough, to clear her throat and stop the cold sweat from collecting at the edge of her collarbone, but all eyes were already trained on hers.
The sheet of paper that was set up and ready to be written on for today’s lesson sat sweat soaked and crumbled as her fist tightened around its edge. She panted, eyes darting frantically around the room as the classroom around her seemed to freeze.
“Miss Helbig, is the thrilling theory of everything boring you enough to lose consciousness in the middle of my lecture?” The middle-aged woman leaned heavily against her desk. She stilled looked close to being fresh out of school, although she lost her thrill for teaching years ago. Her deep brown hair getting lighter with every passing year.
Grace blinked a few times, staring blankly. She didn’t even remember dozing off, much less what that incessant woman was droning on about beforehand. “No ma’am, I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed acceptable enough for the class to keep moving with the lecture.
The lights had been dimmed, an old fashion projector cast an image into the dully painted walls. The glow was golden, an off-brand expo marker was drawing different graphs in attempts to visualize how everything coexisted in the world that was inhabited today.
The girl was still tense, her shoulders knotted as she gripped the edges of her desk, feeling the grains of wood dig into the pads of her fingers as she lowered herself into a slumped position of her seat. The plastic was cool as it pressed against the nave of her back. She tried to focus on breathing. Again, not wanting to lose control.
“Grace,” A slight whisper came from beside her, her gaze flashing over to the girl that was seated to the right of her. She was smaller, her dirty blonde hair cropped and styled in a way that only she could pull off. She was wearing a flannel that was way too big for her own good, but it looked warm- just like her deep turquoise gaze. “You okay?”
The blonde just nodded, against trying to keep her mouth from staying as dry as it was now. She knew that Hannah could see right through her, but she wasn’t going to grill her friend in the middle of a lecture. Grace was off the hook for now. The scent of rustic blood was sure to soak through the bandages that her mother had painfully wrapped around her leg earlier today.
Demi Helbig had always been the type of woman to think of everything, her cunning solutions and makeshift medicine skills constantly came in handy when it came to the issues that faced their family. She had taken fresh jasmine, layering the herb between each layer of bandages to mask the smell as much as possible.
The loud clanging of the school bell made her jump again, which Hannah was sharp to take notice of. Again, she stayed quiet, watching her friend carefully as she shoved the already crumpled page of notes into her bag. She was usually pristine, never wanting anything out of place, but at this point, Grace didn’t care.
Light poured through the windows of her truck, the grey sky was a collection of bold clouds and deeper colors. Grace had seen stuff like this before; the sign that snow was about to fall and a crisper time of the year would creep in.
When the sun started to set, the sky would fade to a vibrant orange, the clouds painted in deep maroon until everything eventually turned black. Grace always used to watch the color vanish from the sky. She would sit right by the lake, the quiet taking up most of her time.
“She’s not like us,”
The words fogged up her mind, a sharp chill filling most of her body as she let out a gasp. The sound was almost in unison to her side door creaking open. The leather steering wheel beneath her grasp nearly tore and changed shape like putty. It was malleable, her nails digging into the material.
“What is with you?” Hannah stood on the other end of the door. She had her hand resting above her head on the roof of the truck. Her foot was propped up on the base. She had her bag hanging from her shoulder. “We were supposed to meet in the courtyard.”
“Right,” Grace let out a breath. She glanced into her rearview mirror, letting her deep golden eyes take up most of the reflective surface. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I just… a lot has been going on.”
“Then talk to me about it.” Hannah let out a small huff of air as she hoisted herself into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with a dull thud. She was turned completely in the chair, her fingers pressing against the dashboard. Her cheeks were red and irritated from the cold. “That is why I’m here.”
“That’s not why you’re here Hannah,” Grace scoffed “You’re here because you need a ride home.”
“Well yeah,” She stifled a smile “But that’s not the only reason. We’ve been friends for years, and I know when something more than a test in phycology is bothering you.”
Grace let out a long breath, pressing her back into the plush seat. Just like her father, she knew that Hannah would be upset about her going out in the middle of the night without at least one person by her side. Without her. She clenched her jaw, tasting the familiar copper that often plagued her.
“You have to promise not to get mad.”
“How can I promise if I don’t know what you did.”
“You can’t really, but it helps.”
“Okay,” The smaller girl breathed out “Okay fine.”
Grace swallowed roughly, her nose close to running from the cold. The truck hadn’t warmed up yet, even though the vents pumped scented air into the small space. She started to feel stifled, her fingers pulling at the edge of her shirt. It started to stick to the nave of her back. It felt like a cold. Something she hadn’t acquired for years. Then again, she always healed whenever something like this decided to attack her body.
“Last night I went out,” Grace sounded carefully, avoiding the accusatory gaze from Hannah. It wasn’t like she had been taken out on a date for some pizza and a movie. She never got asked out, and both girls knew exactly what she meant. The smaller girl stayed silent, though. “And a group of people, they uh, they attacked me.”
“They saw you?” Hannah adjusted her position in the leather seat once more.
“They sure as hell did, but it was dark. They were human. I don’t think… I know they wouldn’t recognize me now. Not in daylight.”
Hannah chewed her lip slightly, the metallic taste coating her tongue. It was a nervous habit. She would always have Grace’s back no matter what, and part of her was irked that her friend didn’t come to her first. The taller blonde had a tendency to do without thinking- to rebel even in the smallest of ways. This time it cost her a lot more.
“Was it another pack?” Hannah’s voice was sharp, squeezing the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes.
“No, god no.” she shook her head “I would smell them from a mile away. Feel them even sooner. This was different. It freaked my dad out. He won’t talk to me about it.”
“What about my mom?” Hannah asked, breath still clouding in front of her in thick condensation. “Do you know if he called her?”
“I’m sure he did,” Grace scoffed, staring down at her hands as they rested lazily on her lap.
They sat in a labored silence for a few moments, their breath the only sound the filled the area. A few people were starting to crowd around the table that their group usually met at. All of them were bundled up in different layers of clothes, Grace’s eyes catching a few stares when she glanced in the rearview mirror.
Anthony was sitting on the blue painted table, the mesh sure to dig into her thighs. He didn’t seem too bothered by it though, Andrea had her arms wrapped tightly around his arm, leaning her chin on his shoulder as the two stared at the glowing screen to his phone. Rosanna had her nose buried in a book, eyes scanning every single page as Jordan occupied himself with peeling a sticker off of an apple. They looked comfortable- like family.
Hannah finally lets out a small sigh before pulling the car door open, tossing Grace a questioning look. “You coming, Helbig?”
“Yeah, Hart.” She let out a small breath “I’ll be there in a minute.”
