Donte

Brooke Marlowe is 14. She has been 14 for 5 years. She has been born into a family who cannot die. In the Marlowe family you could be any age before you stop growing.
Brooke has to take year nine over and over again and she's sick of it. Her little brother is older than her and the family have to move again but this time Brooke doesn't want to go. She's found love.

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1. School

I slowly walk behind Josh and his friend as we cross Willow Road. My hood is up and my hands are pressed into my pockets as deep as they will go. I glare at my brothers back envy burning in my eyes. It's so unfair. How come he gets to go to collage whilst I'm still at school. Five years in year nine! I've spent so long in this year I could outsmart the teachers. 

I don't listen anymore. There's no point considering I already know everything. I just experiment. Being rude, being chatty, being smart, playing dumb. This year I'm playing shy. Never do the same trick twice, right.

"You alright there B?"

There is a trace of a smile on my brothers lips. I want to slap him, but I don't. I just nod and look away. I wish mum would let me walk to school on my own but after last year that will never happen. I ran away and now my little brother gets plenty of opportunities to rub in my face that he's older.

I still arrived at school even if I was an hour late.

"You scared about your first day in year nine?"

Josh pulls me into a headlock and rubs his knuckles on my head. I try to push him away but he won't let me go. We're getting close to school and he's going to make me look like an idiot. 

I elbow him in the stomach and leg it. He'll get me back later but at least I'll just arrive with messy hair.

As soon as I see the gates I slow down. I join the back of a group of year ten's trying to blend in even though I'm over a head shorter than them.

I glance behind me. Josh and his mate aren't there. The college is further back. I pull away from the group of boys and rush ahead. If I'm playing shy I can't be late.

The school is a huge brick building with black doors. It's three stories with creaky wooden stair cases and a dull grey uniform with a yellow and grey tie.

Boys and girls walk separately endlessly talking and laughing. The sound is deafening. I quickly walk through the stuffy corridors searching for my form room. The corridors are packed and people shove past me as if I'm not there. 

I find student services, a small office in the middle of the school to make it easier for all students to access. I walk up to the lady in the office typing furiously eyes fixed on the computer screen. I knock on the little window and wait for her to stop. 

She has dark hair and dark eyes with sickly white skin.

"Yes?" Her voice is sweet and soothing. 

"Um, where is languages room 4b please?" I read the tiny writing off the crumpled paper in my hand. She gives me directions and I walk away, joining the crowd in the corridor. 

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