Escaping Reality

Vivian McDowel is a nobody. She's the girl that sits in the middle of the class and associates herself with nobody, not even anybody but the characters in her book. She feels like an imaginary world, the vast creation of one's mind, is her only escape from the harsh eyes of reality. That is until she meets Mr. Hotshot, by fault, not a choice.

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2. Two

“I’m sure you’ll fit right in here at St Mark’s!” The head teacher – who’s name I had already forgotten – mused on, a polite grin on her face as she opened the heavy wooden door of her office, seeing me out. It smelt like what I’d imagine a prison would smell like, all mattered and somehow mouldy with surprising no site of mould anywhere. It’s also very clear that the school has been standing for a good few years. Cracks imbedded within the tiles on the floor, ceiling pain slowly fading away, pulling itself off the damp base and the walls – in areas – personally gestured with small bits of graffiti.

I could only smile as I walked back in the now quite hallway, the sound of teachers protesting with the class and the screeches of chalk on the board echoing against the walls and lockers. My hands shook with nerves, the piece of paper moving like its own, making it hard for me to see which room I was expected in at this moment.

English. Room: G47. Me Hewit.

That can't be too bad.

Barging my way through the sea of sweaty and nose killing people, I attempted to find my locker before second period. After what felt like years of searching, I ended up giving up, leaning against one of the dirty walls next to the water fountain, watching with beady eyes as people crushed between one another to make it to their destination. I can honestly say I have never been in such a rush within a school before, but I guess everywhere is different, aye?

Soon after, the manic had died down once again, leaving me in another empty hallway alone. I began to stroll around, glancing at the numbers on the grey standing lockers.

“287, 288, 290…” I sighed, “where in the world is 289?”

“Oh they moved it not too long ago,” the unexpected voice caused my soul to jump out of my body, “there was a leak behind the locker so they decided it best to move it!” A girl with long black hair and vibrant jungle green eyes stood not too far away from me, she quite seemed calm and collected, especially with three thick text books in her arms.

“Ah okay, well, where is it now?”

“Only over here.” She pointed to a smaller row of the same grey lockers I was once looking at.

Now, I’m not one to want to be involved with people, only because I know if I get attached then it’s only going to hurt me when we move again, but what pain would one friend bring? I don’t want to be known as the loner round here, especially not after what happened at my last school!

I reluctantly began to walk in the direction of the lockers, watching as the girl who directed me open the locker besides mine.

“So, you’re the new girl?”

My head turned to her, a small smile on her face, “Yeah, Vivian but I prefer Viv or V.”

“God you got the same name as my grandma,” She laughers, but quickly stops after realising her words “shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way, although it sounded as if I did, I really didn’t.” She paused, “You have a beautiful name?”

Laughter dropped from my mouth, “Thank you?”

“I’m Nathalie by the way.” She smiled, finally regaining herself from the small laughing fit.

I shook her hand, “Nice to meet you Nathalie.”

Did I just make a real friend?

“I’m sure you’ll fit right in here at St Mark’s!” The head teacher – who’s name I had already forgotten – mused on, a polite grin on her face as she opened the heavy wooden door of her office, seeing me out. It smelt like what I’d imagine a prison would smell like, all mattered and somehow mouldy with surprising no site of mould anywhere. It’s also very clear that the school has been standing for a good few years. Cracks imbedded within the tiles on the floor, ceiling pain slowly fading away, pulling itself off the damp base and the walls – in areas – personally gestured with small bits of graffiti.

I could only smile as I walked back in the now quite hallway, the sound of teachers protesting with the class and the screeches of chalk on the board echoing against the walls and lockers. My hands shook with nerves, the piece of paper moving like its own, making it hard for me to see which room I was expected in at this moment.

English. Room: G47. Me Hewit.

That can't be too bad.

Barging my way through the sea of sweaty and nose killing people, I attempted to find my locker before second period. After what felt like years of searching, I ended up giving up, leaning against one of the dirty walls next to the water fountain, watching with beady eyes as people crushed between one another to make it to their destination. I can honestly say I have never been in such a rush within a school before, but I guess everywhere is different, aye?

Soon after, the manic had died down once again, leaving me in another empty hallway alone. I began to stroll around, glancing at the numbers on the grey standing lockers.

“287, 288, 290…” I sighed, “where in the world is 289?”

“Oh they moved it not too long ago,” the unexpected voice caused my soul to jump out of my body, “there was a leak behind the locker so they decided it best to move it!” A girl with long black hair and vibrant jungle green eyes stood not too far away from me, she quite seemed calm and collected, especially with three thick text books in her arms.

“Ah okay, well, where is it now?”

“Only over here.” She pointed to a smaller row of the same grey lockers I was once looking at.

Now, I’m not one to want to be involved with people, only because I know if I get attached then it’s only going to hurt me when we move again, but what pain would one friend bring? I don’t want to be known as the loner round here, especially not after what happened at my last school!

I reluctantly began to walk in the direction of the lockers, watching as the girl who directed me open the locker besides mine.

“So, you’re the new girl?”

My head turned to her, a small smile on her face, “Yeah, Vivian but I prefer Viv or V.”

“God you got the same name as my grandma,” She laughers, but quickly stops after realising her words “shit I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way, although it sounded as if I did, I really didn’t.” She paused, “You have a beautiful name?”

Laughter dropped from my mouth, “Thank you?”

“I’m Nathalie by the way.” She smiled, finally regaining herself from the small laughing fit.

I shook her hand, “Nice to meet you Nathalie.”

Did I just make a real friend?

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