Walking in Slow Motion

Axi is just a normal girl in a gifted family. She isn't amazingly pretty, or intelligent, or popular. She's just a girl who gets bullied in school because her sister's dating the most dreamed-about guy there: and he's two years old than her.
Then she meets Seymour, a friend she never knew was always right beside her. When their teacher walks out of class, Axi begs him to teach her film editing-- a talent nobody in her family has.
But Seymour's teaching brings a new responsibility. In the middle of her first editing session, Axi discovers that she has skills. Special skills. Supernatural skills...
Who is Axi? WHAT is she? And will she ever be the same again...?
NEW BLURB! Do you like it? :)

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5. Computers

I've only been siting in class for a few minutes and have already been pointed at, laughed at, shoved and insulted. But having a friend completely makes it worth it.

"Hello there, gigabytes!"

Enter Mr. Mossly, our slightly wacky IT teacher. He enjoys calling us gigabytes. I have no clue what they are, since I'm completely brainless when it comes to talking about technology. Which is weird, because I really enjoy using it sometimes.

Mr. Mossly puts his books and laptop on the table, then says brightly, "I've got good news, folks! But I can only tell it to you if you shut your speakers and mute your mikes."

Nobody listens, as usual. I sigh as I watch Mr. Mossly fiddling with his keyboard.

PPPPPAAAARPPPPPP!!

The entire class, including me, shrieks and jumps up. "WHAT WAS THAT?" wails Cassandra, a bouncy blonde, vain, popular girl whom I particularly hate.

"That," said Mr. Mossly, speaking into a microphone connected to the speakers, "was my new wake up call for you lazy lot. Now, sit down, and listen."

The class sits mutely down and I find myself smiling.

"I've just been marking your Unit One tests," says Mr. Mossly, "and I have to say, I am extremely disappointed by the standard of work you have shown me. Only two students here actually got above 80%. I had hoped that those two lessons of research I had given you would actually amount to something, but no, Cassandra, you just had to chat to Brian on Facebook, talking about how 'OMG totally boreddddd' you are!"

"How... how?" Cassandra stutters.

"I told you at the beginning of class that the school wifi is monitored very closely," chuckles Mr. Mossly, tapping a finger against his nose.

"But, like, at the start of the year, I didn't even know WTF that meant!" Cassandra wails.

"And that is why you failed the test. Now, today we are going to begin our second unit, which is going to be very different from the previous one. No more fiddling with CPUs and RAMs... in this unit, you are going to be making and editing your own short films!"

Your own short films.... I couldn't contain my excitement. All I had ever wanted to do on a computer was make films, but I didn't know how! This was going to be incredible!

My classmates were thinking slightly differently. Cassandra was contemplating the idea of her own face on a movie poster. Brian was practicing his autograph. Another girl called Lily, who had a club called "1D 4eva", was squealing because she thought she might actually get to meet famous stars.

Seymour whispered to me, "I don't think they really understand this, do you?" I shook my head.

Mr. Mossly clapped his hands. "What's all this chatter about movie stars, eh?"

Cassandra flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I am so totally going to get Taylor Lautner to be in my film! Thanks Mr. Mossly, you're, like, the bestest teacher evarrrr!"

Mr. Mossly laughed. "Thank you, Cassandra, but I don't think you're going to be very happy when I tell you... WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU THINKING? This isn't going to be a Hollywood film! We aren't going to Hollywood! We-- God, I don't even know why I'm still here teaching you dimwits! You. Are. Going. To. Be. Filming. Your. Own. Films. Using. A. Camera. And. Then. Editing. Them. If you can't understand even that-- well, I thought this unit was going to be better, but-- I'm finished."

Mouths open, we watched as Mr. Mossly swept out of the classroom, laptop and books in hand. Before he left, he stopped beside he door, where Seym and I sat. "These students," he said loudly, "are the only ones who actually have any hope in this class. The rest of you-- fail for all I care. And if you call these hardworking people "teacher's pets" or worse, I will be onto you faster than Google Chrome can browse!"

The door slammed.

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