Translate

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Party Problems 10.18.14

So I Went To A Birthday Party Today. . .

I ate some spaghetti that turned out good and so I got a bit more. Later, my mom got some coffee and I drank it, too, so I got my own cup. Don't know what did it but I ended up throwing up. It was really bad, my body felt horrible. I even threw up out of my nose and then blood came out. I just, I feel so much better right now, but that was one of the worst experiences I could ever have. It kept going on for an hour. 

WHY CAN'T I JUST VOMIT OUT RAINBOWS?!


Friday, October 17, 2014

What I Deserved

This is a story I wrote for someone who was asking us on the dollars website to write a romance story where someone is supposed to be dead, but apparently they aren't so the person left behind has fallen in love with someone else now. What happens?! Well, read and find out. (6 pages) I think it goes a bit fast, but bear with me. Thanks for reading!~

                I thought for a long time he was dead. For a long time, it seemed that way. The day Tristan went camping with his friends was one of the worst days I could ever experience, but I knew that he would want me to be happy. He wouldn't want me to wait forever, so I knew that I didn't want to wait forever because I knew I'd be unhappy if I did. I didn't think it was wrong.
                The day I met Michael, I knew I loved him just as much as I had loved Tristan. He was just as handsome, he was just as strong, and he was just as mine.
                I don't feel too wrong about it actually. I think love is love and that it shouldn't be about waiting. It should be about first sight. Of course, now I'm left with no love at all. I guess that's fine. I guess I can start over, but I don't really want to.
                It could have been Tristan. It could have been Michael. It could have been me that was the problem.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                "Tristan, now I want you to stay safe on the trip," I said.
                "Okay, mom!" Tristan told me laughing and I laughed with him thinking we would be laughing again once he came back and told me all the hilarious things that happened on that camping trip.
                "Tristan, I'm serious. Stay safe," I said and I wrapped my arms around him to give him a kiss. We were eighteen fresh out of high school and trying to make our way through life together.
                "Well, with that memento in mind, I think I'll definitely stay safe," he said. He was a sweet, charming boy. I loved him very much. He was my high school sweetheart and so I felt this strong connection between him and I.
                His friends honked the horn of their worn-out car and Tristan looked back with a smile. He looked back at me and ruffled my hair. "Cherie, I'll be back on Monday. Don't do anything to crazy."
                "What would I do without you here with me?" I said. He opened the car door and entered. I watched their car until I could no longer see it. Until the smog coming out of the engine was no longer visible. Until I could no longer feel Tristan there with me.
                It was nice having the house to myself for the weekend. I loved having Tristan there, but it was nice to have some time alone. Tristan was always alone when I first met him, but I eventually made him break out of his shell. I guess he saw something in me, because now I'm his little sugarplum fairy. He's very into Tchaikovsky.
                "Oh, Tristan, we never listen to your record of 'The Nutcracker' anymore. I'll tell you to play it on our phonograph when you come back," I told myself in the empty room. You never notice how small you are until you stay inside your house all alone. The silence was a little weird for me, since Tristan was always playing his piano or violin in the living room, but the silence was so lovely, because it reminded me of how Tristan and I were able to be together in silence without feeling weird at all.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                It had been two days and Tristan hadn't been back yet. I waited a little while and then it was eventually Tuesday. In my mind, I thought, "Well, maybe something came up."
                Tristan's mom called me. "Has Tristan come back yet? He told me, he'd call me once he came back."
                "No, he hasn't and I have no idea where he is. I'm so worried Mrs. Levine. He said he'd be back on Monday and it's Tuesday now. What could have possibly happened?"
                "Don't be so worried Cherie. Everything will be alright. Let's just pray for Tristan's safety. I'm going to contact the police," Mrs. Levine said. Thank God, for Mrs. Levine. I would have never thought to even call the police. I would have just waited and waited and waited until I finally decided that I couldn't wait for him anymore and move on.
                Mrs. Levine called the police, but they told her that she couldn't call until it had been two days of him being missing. We'd have to wait for Wednesday. Why?! I hate that 48 hour rule. Why?!
                I played Tristan's record of "The Nutcracker" to calm my nerves and I dance around, pretending that Tristan was holding me in his arms. This made me feel all the better. Oh, how good it must be to be in someone's arms on such a cold night. It must warm the hearts of all the lovers in the world to be in someone's arms. Right now, I'll pretend I'm in someone's arms, but it'll never match up to the real deal.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                Wednesday. Today. The police came with Tristan's mom and they asked me tons of questions like was he acting weird and were his friends acting weird. Did he seem sad? Did he seem a little too happy? All these questions were a valid no. He wasn't troubled in any way at all, so for them to ask me if he seemed strange was absurd.
                He was obviously missing in the woods, I told them. Mrs. Levine agreed with me, so the police decided to make a search party and they searched for all four boys, not just Tristan for a whole month and after a while they said that they weren't able to find him or any of the other's after looking thoroughly.
                Mrs. Levine started trembling and she fell to her knees. I helped her back up and took her back home and I sat with her for a while just staring blankly at the wall. She started sobbing and I couldn't help but cry with her. We held each other tightly, because we knew that our beloved Tristan was gone forever. We were fast to accept that, but it was hard to accept.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                We had a little funeral for Tristan and about twenty people came. We didn't dress in black though, we all dressed in white because that was Tristan's favorite color. We wanted his spirit to live on in our hearts. Wearing black would just be. . .horrendous.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                I thought after the funeral that I would never want to be with anyone anymore. I thought like that for a long time. I kept the house though. I didn't want to give it to anyone. Since, I couldn't support myself without a job, I went and applied for a job as an assistant. One of those assistant's that grabs the coffee for their boss. It just so happens that my boss is a misanthrope. He's so unsociable that he won't ask for anything. Instead, he'll type it out, print it out, and hand it to me. I always try to make small talk with him, but he never opens his mouth. Not even to cough! It's so weird.
                His name is Michael Glover and he looks like he never looks in the mirror. His hair is always a mess and he's always wearing mismatched socks. It's strange, but somehow it fits him.
                He started talking to me after the first week. I guess he eventually cracked, because I have to sit in his room just staring at him and I think it annoyed and creeped him out. He refers to me as Ms. Launcelot and always says, I should call you Ms. Servant instead since Launcelot means servant. . .Or so he told me.
                "Mr. Glover, do you need me to do anything for you?" I asked him at the end of the day. I always do this, because a happy boss makes a happy employee.
                "Yes, Ms. Launcelot could you please try not to talk to me anymore," he said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not sure that I'll reply in a way that would say that I actually care that you're talking. Do you know what I mean? I don't really like socializing with people."
                "Yes, I've noticed, Mr. Glover, but can't we talk. It's not like anyone else really cares," I told him. "Do you think they care and that's why you're saying this or what?"
                "No, Ms. Launcelot, just don't talk to me," he said.
                "But why? I like you," I said. At the time I hadn't meant that I liked him like I was interested in him, but I liked him as a person, because there was something about his quirkiness that soothed my heart strings.
                "You like me?" he said befuddled. It was obvious he wasn't told this much in his life. A small smile was on his face, but it slowly went away.
                "Yes, Mr. Glover, you're a very nice guy," I said.
                "Well, Ms. Launcelot that's kind of you to say. You can go home now," he said beckoning me out with his hand.
                "That was weird," I told myself as I drove him listening to Mozart. I decided to ditch Tchaikovsky or else I'd just keep dwelling on Tristan's death and that wouldn't do me any good at all.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                This morning on the list Michael had printed out for me this morning it said: Let's go have lunch together Ms. Launcelot. If you wish to that is.
                "Mr. Glover, I'm flattered," I said. "Of course, I'll go eat lunch with you."
                He didn't reply, just looked at me and then back at his work. I was sure that Michael must have had a hard time in life when it came to the topic of love. It was written all over his face. His cute, baby doll face.
                As I kept looking at his face, I realized that he must like me and it just swirled in my head and all the feelings I had for Tristan came back, but they weren't for Tristan anymore they were for. . .Michael.
                No, I couldn't be thinking about someone else like that. That was impossible. It had only been a week and some days after Tristan's death so should I really be feeling that way about someone else. It's love though, isn't it? Shouldn't I do what my heart feels?
                This was quite the predicament, but I decided that I'd go to lunch with him, because we'd have to talk and whatever Michael had to say probably wasn't interesting in the least.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                During lunch he took me to Olive Garden. That was in between fancy restaurant and fast-food diner I guess, but it was sweet of him.
                "Thanks for inviting me to lunch again, Mr. Glover," I said.
                "Call me Michael, Cherie," he said and when the name Cherie came off his lips it was like honey. So sweet. So nice. I just wanted him to repeat it again.
                "Well, thank you Michael," I said.
                As we ate our lunch we talked and surprisingly he was very interesting. He told me about all the things he went through in life and how hard it was for him to get to where he was today and that even I could do it. I haven't had much motivation since even before Tristan's death so this was really nice of him.
                "Cherie, would you consider me as your significant other? You don't have to reply now, but please tell me by the end of the week. In fact, that's your. . .ASSIGNMENT!" he said with a chuckle at the end.
                "Yes," I said.
                "Huh?" he said his chuckle stopping. "I said you had until the end of the week you know. Are you sure you just said the right thing?"
                "Of course I said the right thing. I never think twice about love," I said.
                "LOVE?!" he yelled at me.
                "Yes, love. I love you," I said.
                "You're very, umm, well, candid," Michael said with a smirk on his face.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                Michael and I quickly fell in love, made love, and told our love to the whole universe. It was very quick. It was much quicker than the relationship I had with Tristan. Everything was fast about it and I was used to more of a slow pace, but this sudden speed in my life was so invigorating that I could just not get away from it. Michael was pulling me into this fast paced lifestyle of his that was so absolutely perfect. I wanted my life to stay this way.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                Michael and I were very far into our relationship now. It had been four years already and I had this utter feeling in my stomach that he was going to ask me to marry him.
                I got ready for it and everything, because he asked me to meet him somewhere special. As I walked into the store to get my dress, I noticed someone from the corner of my eye. It looked oddly like Tristan, which was weird, because Tristan had such a unique look about him that no one else could possess.
                "Tristan?" I muttered underneath my breath. It couldn't be.
                "Cherie! Cherie!" he yelled. He looked as fine as the day he had left.
                "Tristan?! Where were you all this time? We. . .We thought you were dead! Do you know how much pain you've caused us?" I asked him.
                "I'm fine, I just. . .My friends and I were all sort of planning this. I thought that by the time I came back home I'd be rich, but I lost everything. You understand, don't you?"
                And I did. I did understand, because he was Tristan and Tristan was my other half. Just like Michael. Who was the true other half then? "I do."
                "Then you'll take me back yes," he said.
                "What?" I asked.
                "You'll marry me," he said.
                "NO!" I yelled far louder than I expected. "Tristan, I. . .I just can't." I couldn't bring myself to tell him I had moved on and that I was with someone else now. That was probably my main problem right there.
                "Why not?" he asked so distraught.
                "You just wouldn't understand," I said running off until I could feel that Tristan was no longer there.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                When I went to the place with Michael, sure enough he proposed to me. I was so "shocked" and I of course said yes to him.
                "Cherie, who is this?!" Tristan yelled coming out from behind one of the seats. The whole restaurant had seen Michael's proposal, but to think that Tristan was there was mind-blowing. It is so strange how things seem to all connect to each other in the end. Tristan came back and he ended up going to the same exact place I was going.
                "Tristan, this is Michael. My new boyfriend. Or I guess now he's my fiancé," I explained to him.
                "So when I left you just moved on even after you thought I was dead. We were supposed to spend our whole life together, Cherie! You promised!" Tristan said.
                "Cherie, is this true?" Michael asked.
                "Michael. . .Yes, but that's all in the past!" I said.
                "All in the past? You loved me, you told me every day that you loved me and now it's all in the past! How fake is that! I can't believe I could ever fall in love with someone like you!" Tristan yelled.
                "Cherie. . .I. . .I thought you were different," Michael said. "I don't think we should marry anymore."
                "What? But Michael, I really do love you!" I pleaded.
                "You really loved me once, too!" Tristan said.
                "What a twist! I thought you were a really great girl, but you're just another phony amongst the rest of them," Michael said walking away.
                Tristan and I stared at each other and my eyes asked him if he would take me back, but he simply walked away.
                Everyone was clapping and laughing and cheering for Michael and Tristan and I was alone with everyone who was against me at this moment. I felt like dying right there, because my love was just so deep into these two men that I didn't face the fact that love is a fragile thing. They always say that hate is a strong word, but love is even stronger. It's something that takes a lot of thought. You can hate as many people as you want without it ever affecting your life, but loving people is a different story. It's hard to choose who you can love these days and my problem was that I wanted to love everyone.
                Now I'm left with no one. I'm left on my own with no one to hug or kiss or have or call mine. I only have me and I guess. . .

                I guess that's what I deserved all along.


Poster Project

I Was Assigned A Poster Project In Health. . .

Two weeks ago we were given this. We cannot write any words except the Chapter and the title of the chapter (so it's sort of a hint).

Our teacher said we could not use "Don't Commit Suicide" so instead I decided, why not, "Stop bullying." That seems reasonable. I finished it today, but my uncle kept criticizing me about it. He said it wasn't neat and it looked dumb which is not cool. You do not experience life (and by life I mean stress) until you attend my high school. It's horrible and getting negative feedback from people does not help at all. I try not to take it to heart, especially from him since he's like that, but seriously dude, when your daughter attends will you say the same thing? NO! You're going to help her! I never understand people.


The Future

Here is a story my friend told me to write for her since she couldn't think of anything...

It was an assignment in her class, where you used 15 words (given by the teacher) in your story. The name of the story is called, "The Future." It's only a few sentences. Hope you like it. I'll underline the words that were given

The girl never thought she'd experience such lachrymose. She felt contrite towards the fact that she had nothing to live for anymore. It hurt her very much because she always thought her future was bright. Nevermore would she be convivial and she could never be debonair towards this subject. Towards this absolutely disgusting subject of the future. Now to others, even to her complaisant of ten years, she had become too acidulous. She was so sour even lemons couldn't handle her. It was a drastic change in a short amount of time. She had become dyspeptic and bilious to the point of no return. The thing was, she didn't want to return. She was so bellicose when it came to the topic of her dying future. She wouldn't let anyone tell her that she was going about everything the wrong way. She used to be bumptious and avaricious and in fact that was probably the whole cause of her future beginning to disappear right before her eyes. She was sinking in deeper and deeper into this horrid mind frame and soon she was acting churlish to herself. She was captious about her sudden changes, but fell craven to them. She did not want to change anymore. She felt she had no purpose in life anymore. This baleful future she had so much hope in was what she surrounded her life upon. Without it she had no life. No life meant she was dead. Dead meant she was gone. Gone is forever and now. . .she's forever gone.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Regards To The Story 10.16.14

I will try my hardest to periodically post the story. If you have anything to say as to how I wrote the story please do! I have a lot of homework these days, so I will try to post one chapter a week or something along those lines. I can be very inspired one day and have writer's block the next. Thank you for reading though!~

Those That Which Are Talented: Chapter One (Part One of Two)
Those That Which Are Talented: Chapter One (Part Two of Two)

Those That Which Are Talented: Chapter One (Part Two of Two)

Chapter One (Part Two of Two)


          After that class I had lunch (Our classes were long and varied. 3 classes in one day and an hour study hall at the end of the day, but we all had 15 classes 3 classes for each day of the week.)

          Lysander followed me to lunch and I was a bit creeped out that he was just following me after only knowing me for about three hours.

          “I bet I aggravate you, don’t I?” Lysander asked me as if he wanted to hear yes. Maybe he did want to hear yes.

          “No, not really. You just startle me a bit. Actually, I’m quite flattered. No one’s ever gone to the trouble of following me before,” I said.

          “Oh, don’t worry, it’s my pleasure,” he said. “My pleasure indeed. . .”

          “What’s good to eat here?” I asked.

          “I know something pretty good,” he muttered.

          “Huh?” I asked.

          “Nothing, I don’t really eat but I guess if I did, I’d get that just because the cake looks cute,” he said. He was pointing at a tiny bowl of pasta accompanied with a small piece of cake that did, yes, look adorable.

          I decided to get that just because he said and he took me in the garden where no one else seemed to be. It was a very calming environment that had a nice atmosphere.

          “This is nice,” I said. “You’re quite the gentleman.”

          “Me? A gentleman!” he laughed and he continued laughing. “I’m far from it. Truthfully, I’m quite the misogynist. No, no, even more so I’m a misanthrope. I never really had friends since the first day I started school here and I've been here since Kindergarten. I have had a horrible social life. I really don’t understand why they still bother me.”

          “They bother you because they need someone to make fun of. It’s their security blanket.”

          “And that is exactly what I like about you. You have a different point of view. They would say something along the lines of that I should be lucky to be noticed at all.”

          I smiled at him and he smiled back at me, “Shall we kiss now.”

          “What?” I said laughing. “You’re very umm, candid about your feelings and motives.”

          “No, no, I’m always throwing a sexual innuendo here and there at times, so I am not very candid about my motives!” he said throwing his hands in the air as if orchestrating a song with passion.

          We both started laughing until our sides hurt and he pretended to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.

          “Kalliope, we’re friends yes?” he asked me.

          “Yeah, we’re friends,” I said laughing some more.

          “Be quiet,” a girl and a boy said popping their heads out of the bushes.

          “Umm, okay,” I said.

          “KALLIOPE YOU DON’T NEED T—“ Lysander started but I put my finger against his lips.

          “They’re making out,” I whispered. “Let’s go take a picture!”

          “You’re devious! What will you do with this picture?” Lysander whispered back, rubbing his hands together. “Lysander likey!”

          “We’ll keep it as blackmail,” I said. “Or use it as a prank. We pretend to take a picture and then see how they react. When they find out it was fake, they will hate us!”

          “I’m used to people hating me, nothing hurts anymore!” Lysander whisper yelled.

          We both creeped over to the bushes where we saw their heads pop out. They were not making out, no even worse, they were lying naked together.

          “I don’t want to take a picture of that,” I said wanting to throw up. I had seen naked bodies before, but on screen, on film, in books, but in person, that was a whole different world.

          “That was not a great sight to see for a virgin mind was it,” he said to me.
          “Not at all,” I said. “How are they able to do that without getting caught?”

          “No one ever goes through here, it’s a rarity to see people in here.”

          “So people come in here—“ I started.

          “—to do the nasty, yes. They always come in here to do the nasty.”

          I sighed and I didn’t even want to eat my cake anymore. “Have my cake Lysander, consider it my first gift to you.”

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

          Lysander took me to our next class, which was acting located in Building B. “This is a good class. The teacher is a bit like Mr. Miller, flamboyant, but she’s reliable. Now, Mr. Miller. . .”

          “Do you and he have hatred towards each other?” I asked.

          “Yes, I suppose you could say that. Don’t tell anyone else, but Mr. Miller and I are, how shall you say, very much closer than you think.”

          “Cousins perhaps?” I asked.

          “No, good guess though. My, if we were cousins, I’d have tried to drop him down a stairwell by now!” he exclaimed pinching the bridge of his nose.

          We entered the room as the bell rang, which seemed to be the standard routine. Our acting teacher saw me and smiled. She was wearing a 1920’s flapper girl costume as if it were no big deal and she went to the front of the room and crossed her legs, most likely to display that—which I do believe is strange for a teacher of all people to do—her legs were long and sexy.

          “So we have a new girl I heard,” she said grinning with her hands folded underneath her chin. “What should I do to initiate her?”

          She walked around in circles formulating an idea in her mind and then she stopped at pointed towards the back of the room where I was sitting with Lysander and she curled her finger to tell me to come up on stage. My second time center stage and I was still a nervous wreck.

          “So why were you accepted to this school?” she asked me.

          “My singing talents,” I said.

          “Oh,” she said with a chuckle. “Well, I hope your stage presence is just as good when you’re acting as when you’re singing. Mr. Miller did come tell me how you did so well during your song. I do trust his word, so let’s see if he was right about you. If not, he’s in for a big laugh after school.”

          I didn’t know what she meant by “big laugh” but I considered it to be a challenge. I would not let the handsome teacher Mr. Miller laugh at me and I would not fail in front of anyone!

          “So my challenge?” I asked.

          “Oh, I like that. You think you’re ready?” she asked.

          “Ready!” I said.

          “Alright, let’s say you’re only limited to saying words using half of the alphabet, so you can choose A through M or N through Z, which would you like?”

          “A through M, please,” I said.

          “Alright, I get the other half, whichever of us fails first by using a letter in the other person’s half loses. Got it?”

          “Got it?”

          “Alright, I’ll begin,” she said and then clearing her throat she looked at me and touched my shoulder, “Not today! You need to stay out of this town!”

          “But I didn't do anything. . . incorrect!” I said.

          “Yes, you've ruined our town. You've stained this town out of your own will!”

          “I know, but couldn't you forgive me for doing such a thing. It’s dreadful knowing I hurt everyone.”

          “You’re nothing but a witch who should scald on the stake!” she yelled at me with such passion as if she actually meant it that she did not realize she had said ‘a’.

          “But Ms., I am a champion, Ms. has lost!” I said.

          “Time out, I didn't lose!” she said appalled I would even mention the word lose to her.

          “Yes, you said you’re nothing but A witch who should scald on the stake,” I said “And you said that whoever used a word from the other person’s half of the alphabet loses, so what now?”

          “I guess you win, rightfully so. Good show, good show!” she said with a bitter sound upon her lips. It was obvious to me that she did not like the fact that she had been defeated, by a singer no less. Someone who didn't even want to be in the field of acting had beat her at her own game.

         She continued teaching, but had a horrible disposition now. She pretended like everything was fine, but once class ended she called me over to her and as everyone left she looked at me and asked, “What’s the big deal?”

          “What?” I asked.

“You beat me. No one ever beats me,” she said.

“Well, maybe it was high time you lost,” I thought in my head, but out loud I said, “Mm, I guess I was just lucky.”

“Oh, hmm, luck seems about right. Yes, lucky indeed. You can go now,” she said pointing at the exit. “Don’t be so lucky next time.” She was laughing now as if she somehow defeated me, but I was simply saying what she wanted me to tell her. It was nothing more than that.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

It was finally study hall, where everyone was able to hang out exactly where they wanted. Technically, school was not finished yet, but people acted as though it were. We couldn't go out, but we didn't have to be under the supervision of anybody.

“Kalliope, what did Ms. Morgan tell you?” he asked.

“She said something about never being beaten before and that I was just lucky,” I explained.

“Yes, she’s a very, how shall I say, person of great discontent when she does not receive things her way,” he said.

“It seemed so,” I replied.

“Don’t take it personally, maybe she’ll take you under her wing,” he said.

“I wouldn't wish to be under her wing. She seems to me to be a horrible woman with hatred in her heart,” I said.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

After study hall, I left Lysander and walked to the dormitory. I was given room 303, simple and easy to remember. Third floor, third room! I walked in and saw my room buddy. It was not Piper, thank goodness, but a meek girl with glasses secluded in the corner with a thoughtful look on her face.

“Hello?” I said unsure if this was the right room.

She looked up from what she was doing and sighed. “Are you my new roommate?”

“Yes, I’m Kalliope,” I said.

“Kalliope Shaundrey?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Alright, that’s your bed,” she said pointing at the corner. “If you have any questions please make them quick and intelligent. I’m Teagan Thompson by the way. You might see my name held up in the Hall of Fame in Building D. Maybe then you can ask me some questions, but for now, please don’t bother me.”

“Of course,” I said setting my stuff down at the bed she told me was mine. I was a bit intimidated by her, but I’m sure that was just her personality. It wasn't like Piper, who purposefully intimidated people.

I sat there awkwardly and she stared at me. “You know you could do something. There’s lots of neat things to do here. You just have to explore. I know because you’re new that you think everything’s a little strange, but trust me you’ll become as strange as what you think is strange right now, so get used to it.”

“A-alright,” I said and I decided to get out of there because I had absolutely no idea what she was trying to tell me by saying that I need to explore. I simply took it as my cue to get out of our room so she could have peace and quiet.

I didn't know where to go, so I just kept walking and sure enough my walking helped, because I bumped into Malerei.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I said.

“What are you doing?” she said. “Trying to find your room?”

“No, no. I found it already, but I don’t know what to do. The girl in there seemed to want to be alone, so I took it upon myself to go.”

“Oh, hmm, well I know what you could do,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“There’s like a whole recreational building, Building F. Did they not tell you about it?”

“No, they only said there were five buildings not including the dormitory,” I said.

“Well, Building F, basically has places where everyone can practice and share their talents with each other. I always go to the Poetry Peace though. I don’t like writing it, but listening to it helps me relax. I’m going there right now, wanna come?”

“Sure,” I said. I followed her down to Building F which was past the garden and past all the other buildings and in fact, it wasn't even in the school. It was separated from the school. It was a building called, Easy Entertainment.

“Easy Entertainment,” I said out loud.

“It’s got a cheesy name, but the shit in there is awesome,” she said. “Excuse my language. Well, ha, we’re teens should I be saying sorry for that.”
“No, not at all,” I said.

“And you hang out with Lysander, so that shows for something,” she said.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Well, Lysander’s kind of a pervert just warning and he used to always say a bunch of bad words at a time. A total rebel, still is.”

I didn't reply, I simply smiled knowing that that was definitely how I envisioned Lysander to be.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

I looked around, there were tons of little hang out spots in there directed towards all the different fields taught at the school. She took me to Poetry Piece and everyone was not snapping, but clapping.

Up came a boy, with half white half black hair. He didn't have a piece of paper and then he came to where we were at the back of the room and he started talking into the microphone.

“New girl, new girl
Not sound or sweet
New girl, new girl
With the killer voice
As heard from inside
She might be a new girl
But she isn't trying to hide!”

Everyone clapped and I clapped politely, too, but I saw no reason for him to do that. Malerei was clapping out of sincere appreciation I could tell and she looked at him as though he were a perfect genius. He, I think, was far from that.

When Malerei and I left, she said, “You got a poem by the one and only, Devin Ingleheart.”

“Is he like, special here?” I asked.

“I guess you could say so,” she said. “He’s absolutely hilarious. I don’t know how he comes up with that stuff, but he’s there every day and he never has a poem in mind, he just looks at someone and makes one up.”

“Oh, has he done one for you?” I asked. I assumed this is why her face lit up when talking about him.

“No, not yet,” she said. “He usually never comes where I am, this is the closest I've been to him.”

“Do you have a fascination with him?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s much more than just a fascination,” she said as we walked out of the building. She took me back to my room and said good bye.

“Did you have fun?” Teagan asked me when I entered the room.

“Umm, yeah,” I said.

“Well, enjoy it while you’re here, because once you leave you’ll wish you’d have had even more fun. That’s the kind of affect this school has on people,” she said.


“Yeah, I’ll make sure to make this the two best years of my life,” I said as I fell onto my bed and fell asleep. This was going to be a good two years. It might be a little horrible, because of the hurtful people, but as long as I have friends by my side, I’ll always have fun.