Walking out of insanity.

Chapter Three-Captive

Hailey had spent her Saturday in the same spot with the same hair and clothes. She lay in bed with her curry breath. She blinked the water out of her eyes.

A peculiar dream she had awoken from.

She remembered English homework as the cold bit her skin. She remembered school was soon and she remembered Miss Hibbert, the American. It took her awhile to remember the cold was gnawing on her goose bumps, maybe trying to let her melt before taking a chunk for its mouth.

She shook the feeling of and went to sleep again.

The half term went quickly and Hailey almost had enough of it. All the girls and all the boys and all the teachers said the same thing. It irritated her; someone put a drop of water in her skull and she couldn’t get it out.

“Oh gosh it went so quickly.” Lucy said again.

She closed up her handbag with a click and moved on. Hailey held onto her back pack even though it promised that it was securely on her shoulders, following behind close.

Lucy wore the office skirt, respectable and neat. Hailey wore those trousers that made her legs look like moving blocks, straight and untouchable. They, unfortunately, both wore the tried blue jumpers with the yellow stitching of their school’s logo. They were both tied and linked to the worst school.

The girls wished to go somewhere else, but no other school would spread their catchment area for them. Lucy and Hailey had to bite their lip as they would walk through the gates.

Sometimes you would see the knives flash as the boys held them up their sleeves. Sometimes you’d hear the girls giving themselves up in the toilets.

This was a horrible school for Hailey and Lucy.

“Some girls threw up again.” Lucy said the only thing she hadn’t, she wasn’t so happy. “I didn’t want to touch the sink, you saw it all over.”

“Hmmm…” Hailey didn’t care, not for some girl who ruined her life.

“We got English?” Lucy pressed her lips together, still looking forward. Unconsciously, she was dodging the oncoming students, especially the younger years. It was noted that each year got worse and worse because of the new years. No one liked them but themselves.

Hailey pulled out her planner, bumping into a lot of humans but held no fear and gave no sorry. As Lucy asked, the planner answered and said yes. She didn’t hear what the little book said so Hailey repeated the yes for her.

“Alright then,” Lucy took a sharp turn and up the stairs, shooting like a star, “to beyond and to Mr Farmer.” She said with little excitement.

It was quick and the damp, dull lesson, filled with Mr Farmer’s enthusiasm. It ended like the wait for doomsday. The whole class thought they would have died. Hailey never bored from his lessons though. Lucy normally took ever lesson as important as the teachers told the school, but today she was out, throwing the poem into the bin as she looked at it.

Hailey had folded out in her class routine, emptying her pens and pencils and rulers and colouring pencils and calculator onto her table quietly and efficiently, all in tens. One big calculator and nine little ones in two piles, all the pencils in order and then she pulled out ten pieces of paper. She wrote down all she had missed.

To no one’s surprise, she had listened to everything sir had said as she spent her time for her routine. She took her time. She paid attention to the clatter of the objects in her hand, made sure they did as they were told and stayed silent. She didn’t want to miss anything.

Hailey leaned forward and didn’t see this. Lucy was too used to this, she leaned back with arms crossed and didn’t bother to ask for help.

The room emptied.