What am I doing here? Seriously, I must be insane to spend half an hour in an abandoned classroom just because some mysterious note left in my locker told me to. Tap, tap, tap. My foot keeps bouncing but it does nothing to speed the time while I wait. I consider leaving but then I remember what the note said. Happy Birthday. How pathetic is it that the only person who actually remembered my birthday is probably standing me up? And I’ll just be here waiting like an idiot. I only wish I had brought my markers to kill the time. I settle for tracing the drawings I already have inked on my skin. I gravitate towards my most recent design. It’s definitely bigger than my step mom would like, but it’s my favorite. I actually don’t remember much about drawing it. I remember feeling almost as if I was in a trance when I started on it and the next thing I knew it was an hour later and the drawing was finished. Even looking at it now I feel almost as if it’s sucking me in. I feel myself losing focus on everything else surrounding me. The only thing that interested me at that moment was the intricate lines and shapes intersecting. I’m only drawn back to reality by the sound of a door slamming behind me. My head snaps to the door to see no one there and I let out a breath. It was probably just the wind that knocked it closed. After my breathing calms down from the initial startle, I glance back at the abandoned classroom to notice a short, grey haired girl leaning against a desk watching me. I yelp and try to step back only to run into my teachers desk. I wince from the impact and look back at the girl to see her smirking.
“When did you get here?” I attempt to say calmly but I’m sure my shaky voice gives me away.
“I walked in while you were busy staring at your arms. Maybe you should look up more often.” She says much bolder than you’d expect for a girl her size. I vaguely recognize her from a History class we took together last year, but I can’t remember her name. From what I know, she mainly hangs out with the stoners and she misses more days than she comes.
I quickly pull my sleeves down to cover all the various doodles and stare at the floor, embarrassed.
“Why are you here anyway?” I try changing the subject. She seems to know what I’m doing but she lets it slide.
“Didn’t you read the note I left you? We need to talk.” She says cooly and I start to get annoyed at how she seemed to know so much more about what was happening here.
“About what?” I ask, genuinely confused. Why on earth is this girl who I’ve talked to maybe once before so set on having a talk with me?
“What do you know about your mom?” My mouth drops open and I’m sure the shock is written clear on my face. I stutter a few times before I actually manage to get words out.
“I really don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I say, attempting to shut the conversation down quickly.
“Just answer.” She raises her eyebrow but other than that shows no sign that she even heard my protest.
“She died when I was young. That’s all I know.” I say harshly, hoping she gets the point and drops the topic.
“Did she say anything to you before then?” She persists.
Giving up on getting her off my back, I sigh. “Did you not hear the part about me being young?” I remark sarcastically.
“So you don’t remember anything she told you?” She asks, clearly annoyed.
“Do you remember everything you were told as a 3 year old?” I snap back.
“Fine, guess it’s my job to fill you in.” She mumbles under her breath but loud enough for me to hear. “You turned 16 today which means you’re now part of the Legacy.”
“The what now?” I ask, not sure what kind of joke this is.
“The Legacy. We’re responsible for protecting the public from spirits, demons, and any other paranormal creature that tries to cause them harm.” I laugh because it sounds so ridiculous coming from her. I look back at her and realize she wasn’t kidding.
“No no no. You cannot be serious. You’re crazy.” I say half laughing and half yelling. This is what I waited so long for? Some pothead telling me I’m supposed to kill ghosts? I look around for my bag, ready to leave.
“I’m telling the truth. Your mom was part of the legacy and now you are. We each have a gift, including you. So what is it?”
“What’s what?” I ask, still not sure what she’s talking about.
“What’s your gift?” She asks as if it’s a completely normal question.
“I don’t have one. Look, I know you and your stoner friends like indulging in… your own recreational activities quite frequently, but maybe you should consider laying off a bit.”
“You really don’t believe me?” She asks, looking a bit offended.
“No! I really don’t believe you!” I yell. She rolls her eyes.
“Some part of you must know I’m right. Or at least know that you’re not like everyone else.” She was right about the last part. I did always have problems when it came to talking to people. I just didn’t seem to fit in. That doesn’t mean I buy into everything else she said though.
She seems to take my silence as a sign that I was relenting. She nods her head.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’ll see soon enough.” And with that she starts walking towards the door. A thousand questions enter my head as she leaves but what comes out is this.
“Wait! I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Margo.” She pauses to say before walking out the door, leaving me to think about everything that just happened.