sunshine

eight

i'm having fun writing this. that is all. c:

dedicated to the lovely beaniebae for her continued support and because we're new friends. 

-jewel

                                              eight : religion

         Fuck this. Fuck this room. Fuck this desk. Fuck this place. Seriously, fuck this school. Everyone was well into their first semester, and here I am; just now waltzing in. Each period came with an awful introduction -- "Ophelia Mer- Uhm." Exaggerated squint. 

         Then I would speak up, "Merci-ye." When you are seventeen years into your life, correcting your name is about as obnoxious as having to shave your legs. I mean you don't have to do it; but you do anyway. It's refreshing when it is finally pronounced correctly. The English teacher I was assigned to was quickly becoming my favorite though. He introduced himself to me.

         "Welcome to Honors Literature Ms. Ophelia Mercier. My name is Phillip Lombard and the rest of the class you will soon become acquainted with."

         He was old, tall, bald and dressed like these were the clothes he'd be murdered in. I guess when you've worn suits your whole life, and you can tell the type of person who does; it doesn't matter that it's pushing 90 degrees outside in the middle of September.

         I smiled lightly, keeping my eyes forward as the class turned toward my direction in the back of the room. It had only been four days since my unfortune wipeout on the bike trail. My cheek displayed a disgusting flaky scab for my new peers to stare at. It was fine though. I wouldn't care if I never had to be quaint with any of these people; but like any other school, the curriculum calls for learning how to work well with others. Someday it'll help you in the real world. 

          Just as the bell rung, signaling the day over, Mr. Lombard asked me to stay after. I agreed, although slightly annoyed.

         "Let's get you up to speed Ms. Mercier." His blue eyes peaked at me over the tops of his glasses. "We've been working on biblical allusions. Do you know what an allusion is?"

         "Well yes, a direct or inferred figure of speech I guess?" I answered his question, but paused before continuing. "But how is it that you are discussing the bible in class?" I noticed myself leaning in closer as if speaking about something dangerous and forbidden.

         "Well I suppose you're not supposed to say 'I quite frankly do not give a damn about the rules' in front of the youths either, but this is a different class Ms. Mercier. My goal is to open your mind to a vast spectrum of language, imagery, symbolism and tone. The bible shall not be excluded. Can I ask you, are you religious, Ophelia?"

         I thought for a moment. I know being that this is a very controversial topic, and usually a question that isn't appropriate to blatantly ask, that I had better have my facts in order.

         "No." I said simply.

         He nodded with a sweet smile on his face. Clasping his hands together he responded, "Then this is going to be an interesting year." The smile never left his face as he slid a pile of four books toward me. "I expect you to catch up." 

         I stared down at the pile of literature, smirking. "Thank you."

         "Run long, it's after hours." He shooed me toward the door.