1, Where it all began...

I enter through the large, iron gates and vow that one day, I will never set foot on this cursed soil again. I just had to survive my last year of secondary school. That seems hard in itself, add that to the fact that I'm a vampire, and it gets even worse. I just has to keep my head down and-

"Ari, over here!"

I scan the seemingly endless flow of people for my best friend Damien. So much for keeping a low profile.

I wade my way through the sea of people and eventually find my way to Damien, who's waving enthusiastically at me and hoping from foot-to-foot, attracting way more attention than he needs to.

I have to admit, he's cute, but not my type. Of course he's not my type, look at his perfect, curly, blonde hair, his pink L.A jumper, his trainers and his jeans. Now take a look at me. I'm Latino with dark brown hair and dressed formally in a black shirt & skirt combo, black heels and a spotty black and white headband. It's a shame our personalities have to be so different, although I don't think I'd be able to cope being as energetic as him 24/7.

He's holding a pink folder to his chest and springing about energetically, dropping notes everywhere as he bounces.

"Jeez Damien, do you ever stop bouncing around?" I laugh, collecting all his notes from the tarmac below us. I gather a small pile before handing them back to him, "You need to be careful with these." I glare at him, but god, it's hard to stay mad at him for long.

I laugh again when he comically imitates my overly serious facial expressions before I herd him into the crowded school building. It's not that bad, but they seriously need to do a good clean out of the place. I'm sick of seeing gum everywhere, it's such a pain to peel from the bottom of my heels. Of course, Damien finds it absolutely hilarious that every couple of hours, I have to peel gum from my heels, otherwise they refuse to lift themselves from the floor.

Mine and Damien's lockers are right next to each other, which makes it easy to compare timetables as we prepare for our last year. We've got the same classes, as expected. We've been best friends since kindergarten and have had the same classes every single year. And I can't even remember one year where we haven't sat together. I can't tell if it's just luck or if the teachers genuinely approve of our friendship. Most likely the former rather than the latter.

I pull my notepads and my pencil case out of my locker and are about to lock it when I notice a small letter taped to the inside. I open it, and read each word slowly, taking in the contents of that slip of paper...