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A Bite of History

A lot of things can be learned in a history class. How we used to live, the mistakes we made, our triumphs and losses. And that no matter how hard you try, you can't avoid your past, even if you use all you have to avoid it.

All charecters are the property of Stephenie Meyers. No money is being made of of any of this work. If there was, we would all have a little more to go to Borders with and get Breaking Dawn.

1. A lesson in History

Rating 3.2/5   Word Count 1216   Review this Chapter

I walked slowly with my head down into history class beside Angela. Out of all of my classes, this was the hardest to go through other than science. They had gone through all of this, and it was hard not to imagine what they would say when we discussed it all. They might have scoffed, or unwillingly acknowledged the truth in what we were learning.

“So, how are you today?” Angela asked, taking me out of my painful thoughts like an answered prayer. That was what I loved about Angela. She always seemed to know just what you needed.

I sighed. “I’m a little better I guess. I just wish we didn’t have to sit through four more hours of school,” I teased lightly, though it was obviously forced.

Angela ignored the strain in my voice. “Wow Bella, we’ve only been in school for what, two hours and already you want to leave? You should be ashamed,” she said in the same, light teasing tone.

Just then, the teacher walked in and we all became quiet. “Alright class, today we are moving onto a new and somewhat controversial topic. I expect all of you to try and act like the mature people you know you can be, and try and go with the lesson,” he said briskly, walking to the front of the room and pulling out an overhead. He wheeled it to the middle of the classroom and pulled down a screen. “Ms. Mallory, could you please turn off the lights for me?”

“Sure thing Mr. Jefferson,” Lauren said in her snobby voice, getting up and going to the back of the room. She flipped the switch, and suddenly the room was pitch black, thanks to the rain pouring outside.

Mr. Jefferson turned the overhead light on, illuminating the room. He reached down and got a slide. “Okay, today we are studying the mythical beliefs in the pre-Industrial Revolution times in Europe,” he said as he put a picture on the light, letting us see a black and white picture of a girl tied to a stake with crowds surrounding her, a man in the white robe of a priest lowering a flame to the stacks of hay at her feet. “Can anyone tell me what this shows?”

A few people raised their hands, including Angela. I knew exactly what it was, but I didn’t want to talk for fear my voice would shake or I would pass out. I knew what was going on, and what was about to happen, and it would do nothing to help the hole inside my heart.

“Yes Miss. Weber?”

Angela took another glance at the picture before answering. “It’s a priest burning a witch during the dark ages when they believed mythical creatures to actually be real,” she said quietly. I winced slightly at her description.

“Very good Miss. Weber. You are absolutely right. Back in times before the American Revolution, this wasn’t an odd thing to see. There were no laws prohibiting it—more actually supported it. You see, many people believed that it was right to get rid of these ‘creatures of the night.’”

I looked down at my blank note page. I wasn’t even going to bother to right any of this down. I had heard it all already from someone who was actually there, and seen pictures from that time. I’d met one of those ‘creatures of the night.’

I coughed to hide the cringe that came with that thought. No need to go crazy in a classroom full of witnesses who could call Charlie and get him to send me to the looney bin.

“Other people captured were commonly subjected to the same fate, though sometimes they could be even crueler,” he went on, oblivious to my minor panic attack right in front of him. He pulled out another slide, and showed a man in a small cage in the dark, only a slimmer of light coming in through a crack in the ceiling. Rats scurried around, and human bones covered the ground. On closer inspection, you could see the man snarling at nothing. “This picture depicted a werewolf, one of the creatures believed to roam the earth at the time.”

I cocked my head, forgetting my worries about what was about to come. That didn’t look anything like the werewolves I had imagined. For some reason, I thought it would look more like…Jacob. I shook my head. Jake wasn’t a monster any more than Angela.

“Mr. Jefferson?” a boy in the back asked, his hand raised. I turned slightly, and saw it was one of Ben’s friends. I recognized him, but no name came to memory. So much for knowing everyone in Forks.


“Why didn’t they like, test the people to see if they really were these big scary monsters? I mean, just take that guy out at the next full moon and see if he pops into a big furry dog.”

Mr. Jefferson chuckled. “Many people considered it blasphemy to try and understand the workings of the creatures created by the devil himself.” The boy nodded, leaning back in his seat.

I glanced at the clock in the side of the classroom. It had only been half an hour. I didn’t know if I could go on much more. I could already feel the hole beginning to flare just in anticipation.

“Now, this is our next topic of discussion,” he said, pulling up another slide. It was of a dark haired man wearing a black cloak. There was a dark stain going down the side of his mouth, and two sharp, dirt fangs stuck out on either side of his lips. His eyes looked like a deep burgundy.

Even with that false picture, it took everything in me not to pass out at the sight of it. I bit the inside of my mouth, making myself sit up a little straighter. Angela seemed to notice something was wrong, and gave me a concerned look. I shook my head, giving her a smile to show I was fine. Though I really wasn’t.

“Vampires were one of the most feared creatures in the olden times. Though it seemed they were easy to kill, as long as you had some garlic on you,” a few people chuckled, “then you would be fine. But they were hard to catch. They seemed to be able to jus melt into the night, becoming the darkness of a person’s nightmare.”

How right he was. Vampires were the things of nightmares, but only when they weren’t around. If they were, then they were a dream come true. To me at least. To everyone else, Mr. Jefferson’s description was perfect.

He went on and on about other creatures and what people did to get rid of them. I barely paid any attention. I just doodled on my notebook, drawing dark clouds and knowing eyes.

When the bell rang, I was the first person up to go. I stuffed my books in my bag and impatiently waited for Angela to come so I could leave the room. She could tell from the look on my face I didn’t want to talk about it. No, I wanted to talk to someone else.

I definitely needed to large dosage of motorcycles tonight.