Turn of Darkness: Book One: Diaries of Nicole Johnson

Chapter One

"Wake up! Nicole, wake up!" somebody screams in my ear, penetrating the dark fog. Suddenly I am born against my will – again – as the protective, womblike embrace I had shrouded around me is ripped away from me. Cold. Bright, stabbing light. Unwelcome sensations flood through me.

"Go away," I mumble, swiping my arm out blindly.

"Nicole, it's April 7th. Demetri's going to be a special guest today in Turning History. Remember?"

My body rises as if I am the awakening Dracula. "Oh my God, Demetri!" I screech, my tragedy forgotten.

We rush to get dressed in our school uniforms, me in my long black plaid skirt, rust colored collared shirt, and matching black tweed jacket. Sylvia in her beige skirt and white collared shirt. She swipes pink gloss across her lips and lines her eyes with a faint golden shadow. I leave my face bare, not one for makeup.

"You sure you don't want any makeup?" Sylvia asks with a wink. I smile politely as she offers me the tube of lipgloss. "No thank you. Besides, I'm pretty sure Demetri prefers darker makeup," I giggle.

We hurry down the hallway and flight of stairs, walking as fast as we can while at the same time being 'proper.' The school was founded by old world vampires, so Victorian etiquette is expected of us.

Students are bustling into Ms. Merrick's class at a hurried rate. Glancing around, I realize how foolish I am. To think I was the only one interested in Demetri. Ha! Every girl in the class is wearing extra makeup today, their hair combed and styled more neatly than usual, and jewelry adorns their ears and throats. I sneeze on an overpowering whiff of perfume and notice with a grimace that a student has sewn her skirts so that it falls shorter than appropriate. Would she really risk expulsion for the tiniest chance that an old world vampire, who most likely looked down on such impropriety, would show interest in her? I laugh.

Finally getting to my desk and taking a seat, I take another quick glance around the room at all the women. Everyone is at least 22 years old. I'm probably the oldest one here, besides the Professor, at 24. Even Sylvia, who had to retake her freshman year, is 23 years old. I try not to let it bother me. Then I laugh to myself as I notice every woman in the room has worn their hair high up to bare their throats. To potentially "entice" our vampire guest today. I knew something they didn't: most vampires were at least 200 years old and stuck in their Victorian ways. They were impressed by propriety and subtlety, especially in today's time with extremely short shorts and women practically wearing bras.

The Victorian vampires saw tied up hair as a scandalous invitation, as scandalous as a woman showing her legs in the 1800s. Loose hair that covered the throat was seen as proper and respectable. My hair is long, thick, and wavy, covering up most of my neck, and a thick choker covers the rest. I'll give him a challenge.

I smile in victory and turn to face the front to realize I am wrong. It isn't I who has put up a challenge. The challenge is being initiated by the tall, solid man standing in the front of the room. His face is a hard mask as his gaze bores into mine. I am being dared to breathe again in the presence of such a man.

I quickly grab my leather bound journal from my velvet bag and draw out my feather pen. To calm my nerves, I begin to write:

Ok, don't judge. I have been struck breathless by him. I have failed! I thought I was ready to meet him without acting like a school girl, but I was wrong! Pictures don't do him justice. His very aura is enticing! It's like he's sucking all the air out of the room, all of the light into his dark heart like a black hole. If I could breathe, I would be breathing the same oxygen as this vampire! Ugh, my baser instincts have failed me. I wish to be a proper Victorian lady. I wish to look upon him as if I didn't care. He will see in my eyes how his very presence affects me. And he's LOOKING at me!!!