Show and Tell

Andy had never been a popular kid. His big, thick glasses and the two freckles on his upper lip made him an easy target; not to mention the hand my down clothes he’d got from his older cousin.

Life wasn’t easy at ten. Just that morning he’d been given two super wedgies, a Chinese burn on his left arm, kicked in the shin and had his chocolate biscuit stolen. It should have been a bad day, but today was show and tell and Andy had something amazing to demonstrate. His presentation would be so fabulous, so gloriously mind blowing that before third break every kid in the playground would be begging to be his friend.

He’d been hiding out in the library for a good twenty minutes of lunch break before they found him. Kicking the book out of his hand Brian and his trio of thugs grabbed him under the arm pits and wrenched him out of his chair.

They carried him out, his little feet kicking their backs and podgy, soft arms. The fat hand clamped over his mouth stopped him from calling out for help and the librarian was too busy chatting over her tea to the tutor from room 105 to notice. He spent the rest of his lunch break sitting in the bin outside the main office.

When the bell finally rang and he could clamber out of his dank and smelly prison, he dusted himself off and pulled the last sticky bits of banana and old chewing gum off his sweater before heading to the bathroom to wash his hands.

The last straggling, giggling girls scattered as he clumped his way down the corridor, howling with laughter and disgust at the slight smell coming from his damp clothes. He’d show them, he’d show all of them what he was worth; how special he really was. He had hated his life and everyone in it for so long he couldn’t bare it anymore, but today it was all going to change.

Class 3A filed in two by two  and sat in their neat little rows in eager anticipation of this weeks show and tell. The teacher chugged down her last cup of coffee, her black hair in a slightly skewed bun that had a few loose hairs flying from it like little spiders. The bags under here eyes indicated a heavy night and she was wearing one of her less professional jumpers today. She looked like what every teacher dreading becoming, washed out.

“So.” She began in a thin, worn out voice. “Who wants to go first this week?”

A sea of quivering, eager hands fluttered in the air, high pitched muttering of earnest desire bounced around the space. The teacher scanned them with uninterested eyes, the usual eager beavers catching her gaze, until she saw a shinning little face she’d not really noticed before.

“Andy? You have something you’d like to share with us?” She asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

Andy swallowed, this was his big moment. Taking a deep breath and pulling up his huge trousers he clambered up to the front of the class. Walking over to the teacher’s desk he helped himself to her favorite mug from it’s usual place on the top of the paper stack. World’ Best Teacher it proudly declared to anyone paying attention.

The interested muttering gave way to toxic giggling. He looked so ridiculous standing there with his bowl cut hair, over sized clothes and eyes magnified 10 times by his thick specs. Until, he dropped the mug.

A collective gasp went up from his crowd. Stunned silence fell for a few, short seconds until a tidal wave of excitement crashed in on them. Screaming, stunned children rushed to the front, chairs scraping and falling over in the scrum. The teacher craned over her desk, neck stretching out like an ostrich, mouth wide.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“How do you do it, Andy?”

“Can you teach me?!”

“Andy, Andy, can I come over to your house after school?”

Andy smiled wide over the brim of the mug as it spun gently in the empty space in front of him. He knew these telekinetic powers  would come in handy one day.

The Little Vampire who went to the Beach

The Littlest Vampire Sketch by  Alarura

The Littlest Vampire Sketch by Alarura

The littlest vampire had always loved the sea. The moon shone in dappled freckles across its shifting surface; reflecting back a light from the sun that he could no longer see. Something about the beckoning call of the crashing waves seeped into his soul and pulled at his heart strings. The littlest Vampire was lonely. Normal children did not suffer the blood lust, they could play in the sun without the itchy scratch of imminent disintegration. They still had parents, the littlest vampire had eaten his a long time ago. Darkness was his only friend now. When the clock struck midnight every evening he would creep excitedly through the streets of the nearby village, skulking in doorways and under bridges until he reached the white shore. His little bucket clunked against his leg, the hollow plastic sound penetrating the silence. Under the soft moon light he sculpted sand castles, chased crabs along the sand, struck with his supernatural reflexes at the fish that swam underneath his feet. In sudden fits of elation he bounded, jumped and twirled across the beach, kicking large clumps of sand up with his clumsy feet as he went. Tottering slightly he span around and around in a moon beam, reaching out his chubby little fingers to the sky to grasp as the moths that danced in the light. A large purple specimen floated down ethereally to land on his outstretched index finger. It flapped its huge wings, tickling the Littlest Vampire’s hand. He wondered what it would be like to fly, the soar away into the night like the bats that hung upside down in his cave. He’d tried to fly once and give himself a headache with the effort and crashed into a trailing wall of ivy that dripped over the local haunted house. The butterfly took off suddenly, its juddering movements flicking his colour through the air. The Littlest Vampire chased him, his feet pounding across the sand. One foot got caught in the other and he stumbled, flying through the air, arms outstretched. He landed with a thump on the soft ground, his face buried in the sand. Spluttering he propped himself up on his elbows to rub the dirt from his eyes. Two little feet stood in front of him, slightly turned inwards with chipped pink nail varnish over spilling onto the skin of the toes. The Littlest Vampire raised his head slowly, if he had any blood left in his undead body he would have blushed. A little girl stood before him, dressed in a white frilly nighty. The hem was dirty and a little wet from walking through the surf, her black ringletted hair coiled like Medusa’s around her, framing her startling green eyes in her pale face. In her hands, she grasped a bucket and spade. The Littlest Vampire looked at her, suddenly afraid; he’d heard stories of pitch forks and bonfires. What if this little human tattled on him? Humans were mean creatures and the Littlest Vampire was scared of their fear. The girl slowly reached down to put her bucket on the floor and stood inspecting him with an understanding look. She tilted her head a little to one side and smiled, a bright, brilliant white smile that showed off her young vampire fangs. The Littlest Vampire smiled too, suddenly filled with elation. She reached out a small hand, slightly blue and veined, he could see the dried blood underneath her finger nails. Reaching up he clasped her little fingers with his and allowed himself to be pulled upright. The Littlest Vampire and his new companion gazed at each with a look that only the creatures of the damned understand. Picking up their respective buckets they walked away hand in hand across the beach, off into the moonlight.