Finished Facing The 'Me' Dressed in Red Solo

october 9th, 2024		wednesday, classtime
wc: 1000		dhampir | terrible presence
interacting with: meow meow		mentioning: @Emily Shephard

i'm sure that the lights that shine upon the shadows of the city / seemed more gentle than yesterday

In the midst of all the classes Scout had taken over the course of two years, her favorite had been and would always be Potions, and her least favorite had been and would remain to be History of Magic. Where would she place classes in between those? The more active they were (spell-casting or by other means), the higher they'd be placed on her favorites list.

Herbology was in the middle but a little higher, in B tier. She liked the plants, they were cool. Apparently Zyair was horrible at keeping plants alive, he had mentioned it passively in the letters they'd send to one another. But today they were taking notes in class rather than dealing with plants and whatnot, which was kind of a bore.

Somehow, and at some point in time, the conversation in the greenhouse had shifted temporarily to that of Boggart. One of the girls next to her mentioned how her dad had mentioned them, and then her and her partner began talking about what their Boggarts would be. Typical second-year conversations, if Scout weren't hands down terrified at the idea of encountering a Boggart in front of others, she might've even joined in!

But...

God, she knew what her worst fear was, what that monster would turn into once it laid eyes on her, and even the concept of telling someone what would happen made her guts twist unpleasantly. There was no way she could focus on what the professor was talking about when all she could see in front of her was the face of someone she hadn't seen in at least two years!

"Hey everyone!"

Huh? Scout's eyes adjusted as the greenhouse shifted into a primary school classroom. How old had she been when she was in this room? It was only a few years ago, she couldn't have been younger than eight. On the desk in front of her was a notebook her father had picked out for her when she couldn't come with him to go shopping before school started. It was so pretty, a dark shade of red with splashes of orange on it. She loved the color red.

"Look at Scout! Her book is red like the blood she drinks!"

Even though she was a vampire, Scout had never actually drank blood before. If you didn't count blood-pops, which her father always kept a stash of in their fridge. She opened her mouth to say something, but it was like her throat couldn't form words. "I- I don't..." her voice was silent amidst the laughter in the room. Why were people even laughing? It wasn't a funny joke, just a mean comment on the color of the notebook.

"My mum says that the Fu-Hai's are a bunch of vampires! That's why she's so pale."

"Everyone! We should bring garlic to school so Scout can't come!"

Often Scout was the butt of the joke, usually containing garlic or something like that. She had brought buns filled with red bean paste one time, and that was a huge mistake because everyone said her teeth looked blood-stained. They forgot about it a week later but she made her father promise to never pack her lunch with red bean again.

When the class had ended, there was a red notebook on Scout's desk adorned with orange flashes on it. Dark red was Scout's favorite color. As soon as everyone in the class had left and it was just her and the teacher, the book was no longer on her desk. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the metal spirals at the side of the book, slamming it into a trash bin with all of her might. She hated the color red, she hated it.

Everything about the color red was atrocious, it made her feel angry and hateful. Scout hated red, and she hated dark red most of all.

The sound of everyone leaving the greenhouse snapped her out of her thoughts, the bin fading into the dark quill in her hand. Right, she wasn't in primary school anymore, nobody knew she was a vampire, and most importantly, she had to get out of class to go meet up with Emily. Right, think happy thoughts of Emily and maybe even Zyair if she finally could admit that talking to him was a little fun.

It was- well, it was a little ironic that she hated red so much. Her hair was the same shade of the notebook she had slammed that day, the tie wrapped around her neck was a similar shade, it was like she had become buried in the color she found herself detesting. Sometimes she pondered a question along the lines of 'I wonder if I should tell dad that I threw away that notebook', but it always ends with a resounding 'no'. All of her memories of school were generally unpleasant anyway, which was fine. But why did she recall that scenario so specifically?

"Emily... I wanna ask you something." She adorned her typical toothy grin, wrapping her arms around her best friend as they walked to wherever they were going. "What do you think about the color red? I know you're more of a pink girl."

There would be a time when such a color didn't make her stomach squeeze with distaste, but Scout knew it wouldn't be soon. Maybe one day she'd associate it with rainbows or love or something happy like that, but when her eyes landed on the mirror in the morning, she could recall the notebook so clearly looking back at her. Sometimes it was on the desk, most times it was in the bin, or in the hands of one of the girls who had teased bringing garlic powder to school.

Sometimes it'd be on her tie, or faded into her hair.

Scout still hated red, even when she was dressed in it.

Continuation