CHB fanfic: Ch. 3

I walked into the bustling cafeteria, giggling with Selena and a bunch of other girls. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the line. A huge line awaited anyone unfortunate enough not to have brought their own lunch. It resembled a huge monster snake thing… Maybe one from Greek mythology? My brain was too tan fried to remember anything from last year.
Natalie, a peppy little brunette from my PE class, pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! I knew they'd serve something that doesn't take like cement today! Hamburgers and hot dogs!"
Natalie decided to talk to her friends and wait until the line died down to buy her food, but my growling stomach kept me firmly in place. I know it isn't the smart thing to do, but I'm human. I have my flaws. This one is called stubborn hunger. Oh God, that sounds like a very cheesy book title.
Now see, this is what hunger does to me. THIS.  I turned to my right and noticed that Selena was scanning the crowd. I squinted at the massive line in front of us.
"Who are you looking for?" I asked.
"Hmm? Oh, no one in particular," she said, but I could still tell she was distracted. We waited in silence until we reached the actual food, when Selena broke out of her trance.
"Ooh, salad bar! And they actually have Italian dressing! And not just the icky ranch they had last year," she scoffed. I giggled, and grabbed a tray and some lemonade.
Then, time seemed to slow down. I felt a tingling, almost burning sensation on my chest. After a few seconds, or maybe it was milliseconds, it magnified to an unbearable point. I gasped and clawed at my necklace. As soon as I had it clenched in my hand, everything went back to normal, like the puzzle pieces of time clicking into place all at the same instant with a big, loud whoosh.
I stared at my necklace like it was going to flare to life at any second and consume me in flames. Maybe it was. The necklace was nothing, really. It was my favorite, and oldest, necklace. I suppose I always wore it because I couldn't help missing my dad, even if he was a—Okay, okay. I won't call him anything bad.
It was a small circle the size of a nickel made out of silver wires on a chain. The wires on the necklace crisscrossed all over, and condensed in the middle where they shaped themselves into a big, beautiful tree. My father had given it to me the day before he left for good. I was six.
I must had looked pretty weird, 'cause after a few seconds, Selena asked, "Um, Terri? You OK?"
"Oh! Yeah, I guess I'm just tired." I shook my head and dumped even more olives on my salad. Then I grabbed a hot dog and some fries. Yum.
As I waited in line to pay, I saw a big scaly THING out of the corner of my eye. I turned around instantly, almost dropping my tray, and bumping into Selena.
"Whoa, what's with you today?"
I saw no one. Just the usual teacher walking to get a free faculty lunch. I shrugged and turned around to face a still chattering Selena.
"And you know, the same thing happened with—Patrick! Wait, what's he doing?"
I looked at Patrick, who was kneeling on the floor, several various parts of the ketchup squirter in his hands. Selena laughed nervously. "Hey Patrick…"
"Wait, hold on Selena. I got this." Patrick was the perfect picture of concentration, brow furrowed and tongue peeking out from a corner of his mouth. It reminded me of my little brother so much I had to giggle.
"Wait up guys, I'll get one of the lunch ladies to help." Although I had confidence in Patrick's skills, I doubted he had the inner workings of a ketchup dispenser memorized. I paid as quickly as I could count money, and strode over to the counter. Leaning halfway across, I called, "Excuse me? I think my friend is having a bit of a problem with the—"
Then I realized the lunch lady was talking to the teacher I had mistaken for a monster before. Well, Patrick was gonna have to wait. I let out a puff of air before I noticed something weird.
The teacher's eyes glowed and her clothes shimmered, like they were going to disappear any second. She flickered back and forth from a teacher with a Spanish looking skirt and blouse to a black robe and… Was that scales on her skin?
Then, she turned around and looked into my eyes so fast I swear the temperature in the room dropped by 5 degrees.
"Oh man. It's the death stare." I looked to my left. A guy with curly, messy hair, glasses, and really bad acne had sneaked up on me. "Excuse me?" I said in disbelief.
"That's Ms. Garcia, man. She's a bad enchilada." He had a deep voice in a weird accent.
"Okay then." I inched away slowly. I stepped over to the lunch lady, hoping that the creepy guy would go away.
"Why, hello!" Nervous chuckle here. "How nice it is to see you Ms…" I read her nametag. "Diane! How was your summer?" I asked planting myself in her path.
"Move aside. I must go now." Her voice was cold and monotone. I switched from cheery to serious.
"Are you OK? You look a little flustered. Maybe I should take you to the nurse's off—"
Suddenly I felt nails digging into my arm. My head snapped around to see Ms. Garcia, whom I guessed was a Spanish teacher because of her name, holding my arm.
"Come, come, now. I must speak to you about you grades," she practically hissed.  
"But I don't take your class," I started, but at the "don't" my throat constricted and I couldn't speak. I panicked. I couldn't even breathe! I looked helplessly toward Patrick and Selena, who were both hunched over the ketchup, with the lunch lady stalking towards them.
At long last, we were out in the hallway and Ms. Garcia let go of my arm. I gasped, stumbling toward the lockers. My head refused to look up. Why was I so dizzy? The square tiles on the floor multiplied by two, then four. I stood, leaning against the lockers, listening to my labored breathing for who knows how many minutes. The only things I could hear were my breath, heartbeat and Ms. Garcia, yelling things at me incomprehensibly in a language I'd never heard before.
"N-no I… I don' know…" I stumbled over the words, not knowing what she wanted.
I couldn't see Ms. Garcia's colorful skirt anymore. She seemed to be wearing a black blur and waving a stick at my head.
What the…
I was blinded by a flash of bright light. A fuzzy silhouette appeared in the light, and then the light got smaller and smaller until it went away completely.
"Hey, you!" Finally, English! The small part of my brain that was still in function recognized the masculine voice.
I stumbled in the direction of his voice, but I tripped and found myself on the floor. I didn't bother getting up. I'd close my eyes. Just for a little while. Maybe I'd even see Dad in my dreams. Daddy…
I let a tear escape my eye. Just one. And then, I promised, I wouldn't care anymore.
My eyes sprung wide open at a loud, raspy, almost serpentine shriek. I was hit in the face with a gust of sand and dust.
I wriggled my fingers in a feeble effort to get all the sand off. I tried to say something, anything. I managed a weak "Daddy?"
Why'd I say Daddy? I didn't wanna say Daddy! The last thing I remembered before the dark of the corridor faded to the true black, painted on the inside of my eyelids, was a hand, turning me over and trying to shake me into consciousness.