The Society: Renaissance

OK, I believe I owe you readers something. I have been going on and on about "The Society," and you've never even read one word from it.

I have trouble telling people about it. It was just a project that I really started for myself one summer, way back in 2008. Can you believe it? And nothing would have ever become of it if one of my closest friends hadn't asked for more. So really, the only reason these trio of "books" exist if because of her.

So I guess I'll let you guys read the first chapter out of the first book. And another thing, this book is another reason why I know how to spell Renaissance backwards and forwards. LOL

Now, please don't expect a masterpiece or the next "Hunger Games." (As cool as that would be) This, again, was just for fun. Enjoy! Let me know if you want to read more.

The Society

Renaissance

Book 1

By Lydia Atsma

***

Preface

What had I gotten myself into? That seemed to be the question that ran through my head almost daily, ever since I decided to join The Society and become a vampire. A creature of the night. Never to feel the sun again, or to see my family again.

But they're dead anyways.

And now, I risk my “life” every day, and for what? To defeat an enemy that no one else knows even exists? The answer seemed to be a resounding yes.

***

Chapter 1

The Mundane

I woke up that morning feeling tired. I look back and noticed that in the days before that first day of school, sleep seemed to evade me. It was like I could feel the big changes in my life coming. Some might say that it was because I was going to be a senior in high school, and that I was feeling the impending future of college, but no. A big change in the winds was headed for me. And I could feel it.

I groaned as I sat up in bed and looked around me. The blankets were everywhere, and what was left on the bed kept me trapped in a tight cocoon. I almost fell off twice trying to untangle myself.

This is going to be a long year.

Especially if I’m going to be having dreams and sleep issues like these.

As usual I don't remember anything from the dream. Just that it was bringing something. And right then, it felt like all it was bringing was sleeplessness.

After a futile attempt to tame my wild brown hair, I huffed and snatched my already bulging backpack off my chair.

Ah yes. I thought to myself. Another year of the mundane. The boring. Stupid kids, and pom poms. I couldn't wait to escape the folds of high school and join college. There I would be able to pursue my own life.

The exact nature of what I wanted to be when I grew up always eluded me. I couldn't seem pinpoint just what I wanted to do. It seemed too many things were out there to choose from. But if there was one thing I knew that I loved, it was writing and books.

Nothing made me happier than sitting down and entering a world not my own. Or creating a world all my own. I was always at complete peace in those moments, with nothing about reading or writing that I didn't like. But I knew that a career of that sorts was tricky, and unreliable. So it was most likely that I wasn't going to major in anything of that nature.

But for now, I would have to survive high school. Just one more year. Just one more year. Just one more year. That was my motto. I don't know how many times I told myself that in the days leading up to my senior year.

The blow dryer coming from the bathroom yanked me out of my thoughts.

“Susan!” I bellowed, “Come on! We have to get to school!”

“Yeah, just a sec!” I laughed quietly to myself as I made my way downstairs. My sister. I shouldn't begrudge her wanting to look good. She can do it. I on the other hand can't. It seems the more work I would put into myself, the more futile my efforts were. I didn't think there was any way I could improve on myself, so, why bother?

My family and I lived in a nice house in suburban San Diego. Living in a humid area on the water always made the mornings more cloudy. But most of the time it cleared up later in the day. However, right now it was perfect for me. A cooler, darker, day; which I kind of wish would stay that way, the night always seemed to bring out the best in me. But that doesn't happen when you live in a desert state.

I guess that also just meant that my younger sister Susan and I would get along better. Since we're not fighting over bathroom space, we get along really well. Just like sisters should.

My dad was in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. He worked at a bank and was getting ready for work.

“Hold on a second young missy.” he said as I tried to sneak out the door. He grabbed my backpack and pulled me into a hug. “This is going to be your last year of high school, ever!” he said into my ear.

“Try to enjoy it.” I could hear the pleading in his voice. My parents always worried a little too much about my loner status at school. But never really did anything about it because my grades were always too good.

“Dad...” I started, but gave in instead. “I will try to enjoy it.”

“That's my girl.” he gave me another gentle squeeze and left for work.

“Bye mom!” I called upstairs. Mom was an artist, and she was most likely in her studio creating something for her new opening. Art was another thing that I loved to do, creating dragons and monsters in the margins of my history notes was one of my favorite pastimes.

“Bye honey! Love you, have good day.”

“Susan, last call, otherwise it's the bus for you!”

I smiled as I heard her scamper down the staircase.

As we drove to school Susan chatted happily about her upcoming year.

“I'm just sooo happy that I’m not a Freshman anymore. I'm a Sophomore.”

I laughed, “Sorry Susan, but you're not really anything until you're a Senior. You're not even an upperclassman. I know that sounds harsh, but that's the high school life.”

“Psh, whatever.” she said with a wave of her hand.

I just rolled my eyes.

As we pulled into the parking lot of our high school, my sister squealed and pointed to a bright yellow Mustang.

“Ooh, there must be a new guy in school!” she clapped her hands and immediately began to fix her already perfect hair.

“Oh come on Susan,” I said, “you don't know it's a guy. It might be a girl, because yellow is a girl's color.”

“Oh whatever Alex,” she retorted, “since when do you know anything about fashion?”

All I could do was sigh and shake my head again as we pulled into a parking spot. It was with a sense of doom that I walked towards the school doors. I felt like an animal, walking towards entrapment, but at the same time, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And so I began the first day of my last year of high school.

Or so I thought.

As I walked through the hallways everything was exactly the same, but different at the same time. Instead of cheering for the previous class, my year was all over the halls. The Juniors of course had their signs as well, “You're almost there!” they cheered. Of course the Sophomores were just stuck in the middle. Not much to be said about them. And the Freshmen had huge, bright “Welcomes!” and
“Good lucks!”

Like I said. Exactly the same.

I also noticed the cliques in their spots as well: the geeks pissed every one off because their laptops hogged all the outlets, and cheerleaders doubly pissed everyone off because they shook their pom -poms in our faces for the introduction assembly. The Goths and emos just stood in the corner of the halls staring at everyone and the jocks…well the jocks were the jocks. I sighed again, nothing about this ever changed; and then I smiled to myself knowing that this was the last year I ever had to do this again.

As I made my way to my locker, trying to be invisible, I instantly got the feeling that- that was the exact opposite of what was happening and immediately felts eyes boring into the back of my head.

“Geesh, Alex,” I mumbled to myself, “stop feeling like a frosh all over again.”

Still I couldn’t help but glance around to see if I was correct in my feelings or only being paranoid. And then, there they were: perfect, beautiful, and poised. I right away figured that these people were the ones who drove the Mustang. They had to be; it would feel wrong for them not to be. One was a girl and the other a boy. No, more than a boy and a girl. But otherwise it was too hard to describe it. For they looked no older than I did, and yet their faces seemed to display a wisdom that was beyond the average teenager. She was shorter than he was, with piercing blue eyes and beautiful blonde hair that just reached her shoulders and then swept outward in a cute curl. Sigh, another pretty, petite, dainty girl, I thought. He was taller and looked fairly muscular, not in the over steroid way, but nice and toned. He also had the beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair. They were also impeccably dressed. Now I know that I’m no fashion mongrel, but everything looked designer; another clue to the possible fact that they drove the Mustang. Must be brother and sister, I thought. And all they did was just stare at me. No, it was more than staring. It was peering into me, looking into the depths of who I was. You’d think this detail would creep me out and it did, a little; but not as much as the fact that it felt like they were actually getting what they wanted. That they could see everything about me; that they were measuring me up. Then the thought or question entered my mind: did they like what they saw? As I was looking back into their faces, no trace of an answer was revealed.

Then it was over in a flash, they stopped staring and then leaned into each other and began whispering or, conferring seems to be a better choice of words. Once they had finished that, in another blink of an eye, they turned their backs and marched away into the crowd as if nothing had happened. Which nothing really did happen, it just did not feel that way to me.

The bell yanked me out of my thoughts so suddenly, that I jumped and crashed into the “star” quarterback of our school.

“Watch it dork!” he spat and stopped in front of me.

“So what sort of weirdo things do you have scribbled all over you notebook this time?” he sneered.

“Nothing that you'll be able to understand moron.” I retorted, as I grabbed my math book out of my locker.

“C'mon,” he said reaching for my papers. “Let me see your crap.”

“I said no!” I shouted and I jerked back just as he reached causing all my things to smear across the floor. I looked down and saw everything everywhere. And then he started to laugh.

I don't know what came over me. I looked up and saw his sniveling face as he and his friends pointed and laughed, then reached back and slammed my fist into his nose. For once, praising the stars that I am a bigger girl and was able to put some force into my punch.

“Ah!” He shouted. “You freak!” But then he turned and marched out of the hall, clutching his face in his hands. As I gathered my things alone, I couldn't help but smile. When I stood, I saw the blonde boy staring at me from the other end of the hallway. He too, had a small smile on his face. Before I could do anything else though, he turned and left.

As I entered my Trig class, wondering how Cosine and Tangent would rake its horror on my intellect today; I halted right in the doorway as I noticed who sat in one of the seats. The blonde girl who had, I don’t know, what exactly had she done? She noticed me and then smiled -one dazzling, bright smile with perfectly positioned white teeth- and gestured to the desk next to her. I smiled back, maybe she would be different then all the other girls who looked like her. But as I walked into the room another detail about her made me stumble, as the room light reflected off her eyes, there seemed to be a red glint that flashed from behind them. But I was still moving and then it was gone in an instant. I passed it off as having too much coffee this morning catering to my over active imagination.

“Hi, what’s your name?” she asked me in a voice that would have made was so smooth and pure, I wondered if she was really talking. I tried to put my finger on the sound, like tiny bells way off in the distance. This voice made me want to trust her completely, although something about her question seemed odd to me, as if she already knew the answer, which kept me from trusting her entirely.

“It’s…umm, Alexis Williams, but just call me Alex.” After hearing her voice, mine sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to hers and I tried to clear it up; yeah, like that would make a difference.

“It’s very nice to meet you Alex; I’m Janelle Tanner. As you can probably tell, I am new here and would like someone to show me around. Do you think that you could do that? Alex, hello?” She had only been talking a few seconds, but by then I was almost completely mesmerized that I didn’t even answer her question.

“Oh, um…yeah, sure! I would love to show you around.” Geez, pay attention.

The final bell rang signaling the beginning of class. Although I could still hear frantic running in the halls as students tried to miss out on being tardy. I shook my head; things here never change; which just fueled my longing to move on.

Trig class went by in a breeze. As our teacher assigned our homework, Janelle leaned over to me and whispered, “I’m not sure where my next class is, could you show me?” Again, my first instinct was to trust her completely, but then a second thought made me think that she wasn’t being honest with me. But I just decided to go along with her.

As she handed me her schedule and I blanched a little, wow, she had all my classes. Something about this made me stop and think for a moment, she has all the same classes I do, and before that, she and her, I assume brother, were giving me a good once over this morning. What did it mean? Then I shook the thought away. Stop being so weird I thought; it is just a coincidence. She is being really nice, and it is about time that I had a friend.

“Wow, you have all the same classes I do!” I exclaimed,

“Oh, really? Let me see!” something about her “surprised reaction” did not seem authentic, again!

“Wow, you’re right, they are. Well won’t this be neat? And here I was worried that I wouldn’t find anyone be my friend.” She exclaimed.

I snorted in faux amusement.

Hah, yeah right, I thought. Looking like you do, someone would have to be blind and maybe even deaf to not want to be your friend.

Her face shot up to look at me for the briefest second, almost as if she heard me. The movement was so brief and concise that I thought that I had imagined it.

“I would love it! I don’t really have a friend, so I think we’ll get along well.” I continued trying to forget my suspicions.

“Oh…”she said, with a knowing nod, “…I know that we’ll get along well.” Something about her statement sounded ominous. If only I knew.