1 Anathema

HAVE YOU EVER been in two places at the same time? As if you were living in the same moment, in the same hour, breathing the same air and in the same location but in two totally different worlds?

I have.

I've always been able to feel unusual things; I hear voices and feel strange coldness. For years, I have been seeing things --spirits, ghosts, odd-looking monsters, angels, and demons. I have had dreams of being watched and surrounded by people with hollow eyes.

I paused as I felt a cold chill when I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the chair beside me. An entity in smoke form scribbled something on its notebook.

The entity suddenly turned its smoky head and our eyes met for a quick second before I snatched my eyes away from its gaze.

The rustling noises that came from all directions told me that we were not alone. I was in the same room but in a totally different realm.

My gaze jumped from the creature who clicked its jaw and looked in my direction with its enormous one eye to a human-like boy who had eerily long fangs. His orange eyes made me nervous but it didn't seem to be hostile.

I diverted my attention back to my professor but when I looked in front of the class, I saw an angel instead. She gently flapped her wings which caused a light breeze. She had long, brilliant, knee-length silvery white hair with golden specks. Her entire being seemed to shine in an ethereal glow.

"Ms. Woodthorpe."

The voice of my teacher, Ms. Ediesca, seemed to come from a distance.

I savored the peaceful emerald green of the angel's eyes. When she spoke, her voice was the most beautiful tone I heard. The class listened attentively to her.

"Ms. Woodthorpe."

The angel smiled at me and I felt myself relax.

"Anathema Woodthorpe!"

I jolted out of my alternate universe. With a blink of an eye, they were gone. The room went back to its original appearance.

Ms. Ediesca was standing behind her desk, her hand on her waist. Her look indicated that she was waiting for something from me. Apparently, my answer to the question I didn't hear.

I stood from my chair and exhaled, my face relaxed into a placid calmness before I stiffened when something or someone whispered in my ear.

"Could you repeat the question?" I asked, glancing sideways. The class erupted into a fit of giggles.

They had been constantly teasing me since fifth grade but I was never the one to back down. They call me names such as freak show, illuminati, weirdo, and limbo – neither here, nor there.

"The answer is 307," A voice whispered in my ear. "The question was in a particular school, the school choir has 45 members, and the school orchestra has 32 members. Five students joined in both the choir and the orchestra, and 235 students are neither members of the choir nor the orchestra. How many students are in this particular school?" The voice murmured rapidly.

"For the benefit of Ms. Woodthorpe, Alex, repeat the questi—"

"No," I interjected. "I-I know the question."

Ms. Ediesca gave me a pointed look; she expected I didn't know anything because I was always daydreaming. But I always got the answer.

Voices like this inside my head always tell me the answer. There are times that the voices are clear, sometimes horrifying, child-like, angel-like and demon-like. Sometimes, the voices come with a face. They were sunken, pale, bloody, and most of the times distorted.

"If in a particular school, the school choir has 45 members, and the school orchestra has 32 members. Five students joined in both the choir and the orchestra, and 235 students are neither members of the choir nor the orchestra. Then there are 307 students in this particular school," I replied with confidence, noting with satisfaction the look of incredulity in the faces of my classmates.

"Good," Ms. Ediesca managed to say. "Now scroll your tablets to pag—"

The majority of the students were more than thrilled it was Friday and the last bell had just rang.

"Sir?" Unconsciously I voiced out an audible gasp. In my periphery and to my disgust I saw the ghost of my religion professor. His face was covered in blood.

"Where are you going, limbo?" Alex shouted as I started running down the hallway.

I hated guys like Alex, a woman eater. He knows he's handsome, he leads you on, acts all sweet and nice, and then fucks you up and it'll take months to get over it so it can completely ruin a girl's life, but he was my best guy buddy. We had a lot of common interests, like extreme sports, types of music, and tattoos.

"I have to see Professor Klein!" If I could stop him from dying, I would not need to bear another agonizing pain.

"Hey, wait up! I'm coming with you, I'm going to pass my research papers to him."

"Research on what?"

"The Anathemas— the excommunicated ones."

"Ha, funny, barnacle butt," I huffed and rolled my eyes at him, walking away with large steps.

I met Alex in freshman year. We clicked instantly and have been friends since then. I probably couldn't choose something worth the possible pain of having my first man-made tattoo that summer without him.

Man-made, because I got my first tattoo ever when I was ten. It was a tattoo consisting of two triangles overlapping, one pointing up and one facing down. At first, I thought it was some kind of dirt but it didn't disappear when I tried to wash it off. Luckily, it was in a spot I could easily hide. Fortunately, my mom didn't see it when it first appeared. She is a little conservative so I know she'd flip if she found out. As if tattoos automatically make someone satanic.

When I reached thirteen, a massive wing tattoo suddenly appeared on my back. I was able to hide each one from my mom for at least a year. But one day, she came in my room as I had just stepped out of the shower. She didn't talk to me for the rest of the week. I couldn't tell her that it wasn't my choice to get inked because I think she probably wouldn't understand.

Since then, peculiar markings would appear out of nowhere on different parts of my body like the two swords in my lower arm. Some of them are symbols and some are words and phrases written in different languages that I don't understand. I didn't know why I keep getting these markings but strange as they were, I've learned to appreciate them.

Whenever a new tattoo appears, I would always ask Alex to match mine, and he would gladly oblige.

"Alex you can't come with me, you can't see him!"

He grabbed my arm and stopped me from walking. "What do you mean I can't see him? I just saw him this morning."

I snatched my arm from him. "Alex, Professor was in our room earlier. He was the one who told me the question and gave me the answer. I wasn't listening earlier 'cause I was in—" I stopped talking because I could see that Alex wasn't buying any of it.

"So you're telling me—"

"Dude, get out of the way!" A student who was running down the hall bumped into him and nearly knocked him off balance.

"What the?" Alex growled.

"What's with all the commotion?" I asked a student who was scrambling out the hallway.

"The religion professor, he was hit by a car. I was just about to go out and see."

"Religion professor?" I asked, bewildered. Then it dawned on me. "Oh shoot!" I darted off out the hall, pushing through a group of students coming in. "No, no, no...he's still alive," I muttered to myself.

"Ani! Wait up!" I didn't stop running.

The school ground was crowded with students but I managed to squeeze myself through and saw Prof. Klein's body lying on the ground. There was blood everywhere. A gasp escaped my lips as I stepped back until my back bumped into someone's chest.

"Holy crap!" Alex spat in surprise. "Is that Prof. Klein?"

I nodded and then he gave me an odd look.

The ambulance finally arrived. Prof. Klein was still unconscious. They quickly checked his vitals. Finding no signs of life, the professor was put in a body bag, lifted onto a gurney and placed in an ambulance.

I watched the entire scenario as if in a daze.

"They're late." Prof Klein's voice echoed in my head. He was suddenly standing beside me. He touched my shoulder. I felt the air leave my lungs, as a gut-wrenching pain settled into my stomach.

I sucked in a deep breath and tried to contain myself but I couldn't. I let out a howl. It felt like I'd been stabbed in the chest.

"Ani, are you alright?" I heard the panic in Alex's voice but didn't, couldn't answer.

I screamed, the excruciating pain was becoming unbearable. I nearly fell over, but Alex kept me up.

"Ani! Ani!"

For a moment, the noise all around me faded into the background. Then there was utter and complete silence—and everything went black.