Monday, 10 January 2011
11:29:20 PM (GMT)
I pulled up my hood and turned to face the window. I pressed my forehead against
the cold glass and fought a war with my tears.
Don't cry, don't let them see you weakness...
They've seen the scars, how much weaker can it get!?
It'll be worse, still, if you cry...
I found my iPod in my pocket and jammed the headphones in. I turned it up full blast
and tried to get lost in the music. It was a good distraction.
The bus drove on for hours. It rained hard, and I couldn't see what was outside the
window. Maybe I didn't want to.
I tried to imagine what this place would be like. Huge, probably, with class rooms
and bed rooms and long hallways. Would there be separate buildings? Would boys and
girls be separated, like at summer camp?
Everyone on the bus seemed to be talking except me. I quieted my thoughts and turned
down my iPod to listen to them.
"-yeah, I stabbed the bitch, she-"
"-got pregnant from Matt, and now-"
"-never knew it 'till now. Can't always-"
"-and I told her, hippies suck. So don't do drugs-"
"-was never the same again. Brain damage, and all that. Can't-"
"-yeah, that sui girl's gonna have some hell to pay-"
"-but you can't deny that was some funny shit! Wicked scars, though-"
I turned my iPod back up full blast. No way in hell was I going to listen to them
talk about me.
'Honesty', my favorite song came on. I closed my eyes and tried to know only the
'All I want is to feel alive,
but I'm dying on the inside.'
It seemed like forever until the bus finally turned into a long driveway. An
identical bus followed ours past two hugs gates. A massive stone grey building
loomed before us.
The busses stopped at various places in the circular driveway, deposited their
students, and drove off to the bus building. There appeared to be about ten busses
When my bus stopped, I grabbed my bag and stood, careful this time to keep my
sleeves pulled down. Everyone pushed and shoved to get off like the bus was on fire.
Not wanting to get massacred, I waited until everyone else was off to get off
myself. The bus driver looked at me with something like pity.
As soon as my sneakers hit the concrete and the rain drenched me, everything was
chaos. Kids screamed to old friends, screamed about the rain, screamed just for the
hell of it. I ran towards the doors.
The steep stairs that led to the heavy wooden doors were also crowded with students,
and I dropped my bag half way up when someone shoved me. My bag was quickly kicked
to the bottom of the stairs, and I had to go back down and fight my way back up
When I finally reached the doors, someone was nice enough to slam one in my face. I
fought through the crowd as best I could, but the shoving was reminiscent of a mosh
That gave me an idea...
I reckless idea.
Just then, a red-headed boy shoved me, hard. I spun around and shoved him back, mosh
pit style. He went sprawling to the floor. Some onlookers laughed.
"Young lady!" a sharp, British accented voice silenced them.
"What is the meaning of shoving this boy? Violence is not permitted
"I...he...shoved me first," I said.
"Surely not on purpose!" The lady was tall and thin. Her dark hair was pulled into a
tight bun and she wore a blue uniform adorned with the Arrowette Academy emblem.
She gripped my arm and led my away through the crowd.
The receptionist typed my name into the computer. She had a fake flower in her
"Room number 966."
"Thank you, Bethany," said British Woman.
She led me out of the office and down a crowded hall.
Numbers passed on doorways. We made it through the 800's and into the 900's. When
we came to 966, she handed me a card key.
"You may go into your room and unpack. I suggest you use this time to get acquainted
with your roommates."
Last edited: 11 January 2011