For the Love of Death (Chapter 1)

The guitar strap dug into my shoulder slightly, but only because I was carrying the bag at a slightly odd angle, not because it was heavy or anything. I had too many things with me...as usual. A book or two, and a three ring binder, my prized guitar, and the bag that held my music books along with my purse. Why I always carry so much with me everywhere, I'll never know, but I guess it isn't important.1

I sat down in the nearest chair and took a look around the rather small auditorium. I've wondered in the past what the college used it for when the Gospel music school wasn't in session. Probably band or something. I doubt they just moved the piano out of it whenever the two week session was over. My ceaseless rambling thoughts stopped for a minute and I leaned back in my seat. This was a vacation for me...from everything. My grandfather wasn't nearly as much trouble to handle as my parents, who wouldn't be so bad if they didn't view everything as a reason to fight. Just thinking about that was making me angry.2

Why did I come back here? Did I really like it here? Not really. It was just something to do. But then again I didn't really like anything. I trusted one person...maybe two at the most. Actually, I didn't hate much of anything either. It was strange. I either felt everything or nothing. There was no in-between. I wasn't sure what I felt at the moment.3

Getting bored, I left my stuff in the chair next to the one I had been sitting in and began walking around the room, greeting different people as they walked in and began talking amongst themselves or just dozing in their seats. It was around eight in the morning, and most of them wouldn't be awake yet. A lot of the older people hadn't come in yet, so it was just people of around twelve or thirteen. More and more started to crowd the room, and I felt a moment of claustrophobia. I started wondering if anyone from last year was going to show up that was actually friendly to talk to. Where was Katie? It would be great if she showed up. That was the only person I could remember from last year...well, the year before that there was that guy...but he probably just thought of me as an annoying little kid and wouldn't be showing up anyways. That was just the way it was. I either scared the hell out of guys, or annoyed the hell out of them. The ones that I scared had actually told me it was my eyes that freaked them out most. My eyes are hazel and switch colors depending on my mood or what I'm wearing. They can go from various shades of green, gray, or blue in an instant, or a mixture of all three. They're actually the only feature I like about myself.4

Actually, my mind wandered back to the boy from about three summers earlier. True to my usual dim memory, I honestly could not remember his name. Did it start with a J or an M? Or an R? It was one of the three. He was really good at drawing, and he had made up a strategy game that I was pretty much addicted to. But it was a shadowy memory at best. That was when I was twelve, and it wasn't a good year for me. I was still shaken back then over various events that had occured, none of which I wanted to think of at the moment...5

I turned as I recognized a deeper voice behind me. My mouth took over my memory searching for a name almost instantly, as a two syllable word slipped out of me without my thinking. "Marcus." It was loud enough for him to take it as a greeting, obviously, because he turned around. I couldn't tell from the look on his face whether he remembered my name or not, but he played my game anyways...he pretended to. 6

"Hey!"7

"Hey." I looked over him for a minute. He had gotten taller. Much taller. I was dwarfed compared to him...and he had grown a beard, which didn't look bad on him, come to think of it. "How have you been?"8

"Not bad. You?"9

"Okay." I looked at the hat he was wearing. It had a skull on the front of it. Just a few years ago that would have creeped me out slightly. Now I just found it kind of cool. "Nice hat."10

"Thanks." There was an awkward pause, until I saw a tall girl with extremely curly brown hair wandering through the crowds aimlessly. 11

"Hey Katie...KATIE!" I had to shout it a second time, because she hadn't heard me. She turned in confusion until she spotted me, and then finally came over.12

"Hey."13

I responded in the same manner and he nodded. The three of us walked over to a table and sat down. I sat next to Katie and he sat on the other side of me. Katie had been at the school the last year, and I knew her better, so I just started talking to her mainly. The last time I had seen Marcus I hadn't given it a thought that he was a guy. Now it was...different. He was different.14

We jumped into various subjects, and he kept pace. Books, music, TV...even cartoons. Somehow that struck me as odd, that he knew and liked the same stuff I did. 15

"So, how old are you, again, Marcus?" Katie asked off hand. 16

"I'll be nineteen in September. You?"17

"I'm eighteen."18

I gave a half hearted laugh. "Well, that makes me feel great. I'm only fifteen. Makes me feel like the little kid of the group."19

Marcus gave me an odd look. "You are a little kid." I wasn't sure if he was teasing me or serious. It was hard to tell, and I almost took offense to the statement before he cracked a grin. His eyes had a disconcerting wildness in them when he smiled. It was almost...attractive. I shook that last thought away. I hadn't come to Alabama in search of a boyfriend. I had come in search of an escape.20

I automatically tensed as his hand grazed the top of my guitar bag. He noticed and smirked. "This yours?"21

"Yeah."22

"Cool. I didn't know you played." 23

"A little." I replied with a shrug, still watching to see if he was going to knock over the bag or anything. That Fender stratocaster was the one thing that I had actually wanted to buy for myself, and would have if my dad and I hadn't had a huge fight about nothing and he made it up to me by buying the amp and guitar and my insisting that I would pay him back for it. I still had one hundred and fifty dollars to go, but that wasn't the point. I was tired of my dad thinking that gifts could solve everything imbecilic thing he ever said to me. 24

My eyes widened as he waved his hand in gesture to something he had been saying that I hadn't been listening to and knocked the neck of the guitar, almost sending it to the floor before he caught it and set it back upright. I breathed a sigh of relief and he sent another smirk my way. 'He did that on purpose', I mused, raising an eyebrow at him.25

The room was called to attention as a woman in old style clothes stood up in front of the crowd and began droning on. I tuned her out again until people began filing out of the class and I realized she was separating people into classes. "Anyone who has not taken their music placement tests will go to the cafeteria after everyone else has been taken to their classrooms." Katie had taken her test the night before. There were only about six or seven of us that were left there...myself and Marcus included.26

I stood up and started to grab my stuff, having a hard time balancing all of it. I turned around to get my guitar, but it was gone. My eyes turned to Marcus, and he had it half picked up.27

"Want me to carry this for you?"28

"No...that's okay...I can get it." I said quickly, which was my usual polite way of telling him to get his hands off of my guitar. Something told me he was laughing at me for being so jumpy. But he didn't smirk or anything. It was just his eyes.29

"Suit yourself." He held out the strap, but instead of letting me just take it, he waited for me to slip my arm through the strap and helped me get it on my shoulder. He set off a few paces, leaving me to just stare at him, but then he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows in an 'are you coming, or what?' look.30

I frowned as I followed. This vacation was not turning out as planned.31