Unfamiliar Territory
Chapter 1: The Fog and the Dog

I remember the fog - thick, cloudy, and cold. I remember an early morning, the sun creeping over trees nearly foresting my neighborhood.

I wish I could forget the dark shape sitting across the road, opposite of me.

It appeared as I made my walk to school. I thought it might have been a fire hydrant or some discarded piece of furniture. It was so still, I did not consider it to be anything alive.

That was why I stopped moving when I saw it was a dog.

A German Shepherd, to be specific. Distinct with its powerful frame and dark browns and blacks. The sight of it - alone in this darkened and quiet street - was unnerving enough.

What made it worse was that it was watching me.

I didn’t know it at first. It took a moment of us staring and studying each other. When I moved, it continued to follow me with its eyes. And, as I walked past it, the dog turned its head. Its big black eyes bore straight into mine.

As more distance was put between us, I almost lost sight of it in the fog. I turned away but could still feel its eyes needling into the back of my head. My insides squirmed and twisted and a rising sensation of unease pushed through me until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I shot a glance behind me.

And the German Shepherd smiled. No teeth - just a wide, unsettling smile. Our eyes met one final time and he winked at me before vanishing into the fog.

I didn’t hear the sounds of a chase but I refused to look behind me again, or slow my pace, until I started running into other people. They were other students making their trek to school - a good distance from where I lived. A few odd stares were shot my way. I tried to hide my face with the hood of my jacket as I caught my breath.

I had been coasting by in the background for the first few weeks now. This was not a good way to start my time in the spotlight.

The fog had trailed me to school. Everyone talked about how abnormally thick it was. By the middle of the day, no one could see anything beyond the school grounds. It was like we were isolated from the rest of the world.

Throughout class I would look out the window, thinking I would see the dog smiling up at me from the mist. But it was never there.

I was sitting by the window in one of my classes, watching out for it, when two quick, firm taps against my shoulder caught my attention.

I jumped in my seat, spun around, and saw a boy with dark brown eyes and one of those winter hats with the two ear muff flaps on both sides. He sat in the desk beside mine, a mop of brown hair poking out from the hat and a wide, goofy grin on his face.

“Hi, my name’s Mutt,” he said.

He spoke in a quick breath. His big sneakers bounced beneath the desk. He extended a hand towards me in a quick, jerky motion, making me flinch. “What’s your name?”

“Uh,” I said as he caught hold of my hand and shook it.

“Nice to meet you!”

His voice was really loud. People nearby were staring and whispering. He leaned forward, still holding on to my hand.

“So, have you heard of the Dead Tea Drinkers Society, or DTDS for short?”

He talked not only loud, but fast.

“I—Huh?”

“DTDS!” he repeated, his voice booming through the small, semi-quiet classroom. “It’s a club I have with my friends. You should be in it with us!”

I glanced down at my hand when his grip on it tightened. “I don’t really—Um, what is it?”

“Oh, man, it’s way cool! You should definitely give it a try!”

He looked around at the kids in our class, the majority of which still had eyes on the two of us. He leaned in even closer and whispered: “It’s also super secret, though. Invite only. Okay?”

The teacher chose that moment to walk in the classroom and Mutt released my hand like I had electrocuted him. He straightened, faced towards the front, and lost his smile in the span of a second. As class pressed on, he did not look my way once. But, as I watched him, he didn’t appear to be focused on what the teacher was saying either.

He was on the shorter end of the guy spectrum. His big shoes and floppy hat only helped to make him appear smaller. By contrast, his nose was big, almost comically so, and it was bent in a slight angle as if it had been broken. Had he been in a fight?

He didn’t look tough. His eager attitude and big smiles didn’t fit with the stereotypical tough guy act, either. And the way the other students stared at him when he talked just a little too loud. Leering. Hateful. It was more likely it was the other way around.

He was being bullied.

As soon as the class was over I tried to strike up a conversation with Mutt again but, when I turned to his seat, he was gone.

I caught a glimpse of his bouncing hat as he left the classroom. He moved pretty fast for a guy who looked so floppy.

The rest of the day most of the other students gave me weird looks when I would pass them in the hall, or I would catch my name when they whispered in the back of the classroom. When I tried to be proactive with some during lunch they acted as if I wasn’t there.

Let’s have some fun with the new kid, huh? Were we back in grade school?

I didn’t see Mutt again for the rest of the day. When it was time to leave, I stood out in front of the school for awhile - joined by many of the others.

The fog had not cleared. The men in blue were taking extra precautions to ensure we got home safe. Closing the roads, offering escorts. Still, it wasn’t too surprising when, the very next morning, the news featured a story about a young girl who had gone missing on her way home from school.

My mom, along with many other concerned parents, drove their kids to and from school until the fog lifted a few days later. In that short amount of time however, it had claimed another lost child who did not have the luxury of parents with free time. The first one still had not been found.

The thick trees plaguing my neighborhood originated from a dense forest which grew a short distance from the school. It wasn’t any different or frightening compared to any other forest, but after the first two disappearances it started to get a reputation. Some of the students even tried to give it a name. Forest of the Damned, Forest of the Lost, The Forest that Snatches Unsuspecting Children. None of them caught on for very long. And once the fog disappeared, after a few weeks, the forest, and for the most part even the missing kids, were dropped from the lips of the students.

Though they did not forget about me. For whatever reason they still avoided me. Still whispered about me. After another two weeks I was close to giving up trying to talk to any of them. Most gave me the cold shoulder; others would spare a glance and then giggle to themselves or with each other if I had summoned the courage to approach a group. I was starting to think this was more than just messing with the new student.

I didn’t get an idea of what was going on until one morning when I was walking down the hall. One of them tried to trip me.

I stumbled. Laughter immediately rose up around me. Everyone already surrounded me, as if it was planned.

“Look, its face is as red as its hair!”

Maybe it was planned.

I rubbed a hand over my face. I tried to walk away, but it was like being trapped in some echoing cave. The laughing followed me.

“That’s right, run back to your pack of freaks!”

I stopped. I gripped the straps of my backpack as I glared at my reflection in the polished floor.

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The laughter was, all at once, cut short.

A girl stood in the spot where I was tripped. Shoulders squared, she looked around at each person, one by one. Smiles vanished. Some clung to one another while others looked ready for a fight. But when she spoke again they all flinched.

“Well?”

The silence was absolute. I could almost hear some of them sweat. The largest and toughest of the pack were the first to break from the others and saunter away from her. The rest were quick to follow. A few had a last dirty look to throw my way as they passed. But I hardly noticed them.

She was walking right up to me. Looking right at me. Her eyes were a bright - unnaturally bright - green. They held my gaze and I could not break away. My mouth opened but I did not know what to say.

She stopped a short distance away. “New kid?” she asked.

Her voice was rough, gravelly. Something about it sent a chill down my spine.

My fingers had gone numb. I released the vice grip I had been holding the straps of my bag with as I nodded.

She folded her arms. Her shirt was plain white. It had a strange picture of a simplified, cartoon cat’s face on it. Just a circle and some triangles. Over it was a baggy black jacket with one of those fur hoods.

“Most of the kids here aren’t much better than sharks. Drop some new blood and they eat it up.”

She wore jeans with tears at the knees, a pretty popular fashion of the time. She never smiled.

My face grew hot and I squirmed as her gaze trailed down my body and back up. “And you won’t make much of a meal. Make sure you stick up for yourself next time.”

Her shoes were black leather boots with little spikes and chains and a zipper that snaked its way almost all the way around and up to right beneath her jean-torn knees. It was the most intricate pair of footwear I had ever seen. They looked so cool on her. All of it.

She cleared her throat. I froze when I found her eyes—cold and burning at the same time— glaring at me. Another wave of heat shot up and down my body. I tried to find my voice.

“Th—”

“Hey!” A voice echoed down the hall.

I turned back and saw a ghost. The floppy boy, Mutt. He was pushing through the stragglers as if they weren’t even there. Most scrambled to move out of his way even though many of the guys, and even a few of the girls, were taller than him. I heard the girl behind me curse under her breath.

“Why’d you run off like that?” Mutt asked as he approached us.

I made to greet him until I realized he wasn’t seeing me, either. I stepped away and avoided being shoved aside like the others by mere seconds.

“There was something I had to take care of,” the girl said.

She avoided Mutt’s eyes even while he was staring straight at her face. Her arms remained folded and I saw the fingers whiten as they gripped her arms.

“What was it?” he asked.

“Just some assholes.”

“Mr. Mallard said—”

“I know what he said.” Her eyes found mine again. “There was just—”

“Oh, hey! That’s him! That’s the guy!” Mutt cut in, finally noticing me.

I looked between her slightly open mouthed expression and Mutt’s wide smile as he grabbed my hand and shook it fiercely with both of his. “Hey, buddy, long time no see!”

“Yeah, uh, yeah it has.”

I wished she would stop staring at me. Her thin lips formed a frown as she watched our exchange.

Her hair was cut short, almost to her head, all the way around except on both sides where it was down to her shoulders. It was all dyed a faded green color. Was there any part of her that wasn’t interesting?

Her arms remained firmly locked when Mutt finally released my hand and turned me to face her.

“This is the guy I was talking about.”

I tried my very best to hold her glare. It was like staring into the eyes of a starving lion. When she lowered an arm to place a hand on her hip, I flinched—then mentally cursed myself. I was acting no different than the jerks who feared her.

“You’re a guy?” she asked.

Ouch.

“I know, right?!” Mutt said, loudly rubbing salt in the wound. “He’s way too pretty, but he’s a guy, honest.”

I was struggling to find the right way to tell off Mutt and the girl who saved me, when said girl addressed me: “So, kid, you interested in joining DTDS?”

She was part of it, too? I looked to Mutt who was nodding and smiling as if he could read my mind.

“Uh...”

They watched me as I stood there, silent. I could feel my heart beating against my rib cage. When I opened my mouth again, a blaring ringing erupted down the hall. We were late to class.

“Well?” the girl pressed.

I guessed it wasn’t a dream after all. I didn’t imagine the too-happy Mutt and the too-serious girl. They were real.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to. Thank you,” I said before the silence dragged on for too long.

“Alright, awesome!” Mutt cheered.

The girl continued to stare at me. I bit my lower lip and avoided her gaze as well as Mutt’s eager smile.

“We’ll see,” she said, before turning around and walking away - as if saying the conversation was officially over.

“Thank you for the help back there!” I called after her.

She was thin. I didn’t notice until she was further away. A gust of wind could knock her over.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, not stopping her slow walk or turning around. “I didn’t do it for you.”

I looked back to Mutt who smiled and shrugged unhelpfully. He gave me a short wave before hurrying after her. “Meet us out at the front of school after the last bell!” he shouted back. “We’re gonna have a meeting today!”

I waved back while thinking: shouldn’t he be going to class with me?

I stood there and pondered the unanswered question until a teacher yelled at me to get to class.

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