In the early hours of the morning, I prepared myself for the most dauntingly deceitful place ever. School.
I slipped into a pink camisole, put a white shirt with pink and black stars over it, and grabbed my shoes. In one hand I held my socks and shoes, in the other hand I held my old, worn down and beaten book bag. I silently treaded through the house, grabbing an apple as I wove through the kitchen. The French doors slid silently over the threshold tracks. Thank the gods for small favors.
I know it would have been easier to go through the front door and walk to the school through the streets, but I loved watching the beach as the town woke up and the sun started the slow ascent through the sky.
The cool, white sand filled the spaces between my toes. It was softer than the finest powder made by the strongest grinder.
I watched as a bird circled the sky, searching-always searching-for a good start to a new day. It spotted a disturbance in the rolling waves, and dove faster than the thoughts that crossed my mind. It saddened me that the fish’s life had to end, but that was necessary for the bird’s survival. One small fish gone this way or put there wouldn’t make much of a difference.
A gentle sea wind picked at my loose clothes and sent small grains of sand spiraling. My carefully contained hair came free from its bonds-as it always did-and danced a dangerous tango with the wind.
When I rounded a gentle bend, I could see the light pink tendrils of a rising sun, a sun so readily bright that it caught the shadows and banished them. Shadows from the trees were already lengthening, thrown into sharp relief against the lightness of the air and atmosphere around it.
As usual, I was the first person-even before the teachers-to arrive. That meant I was free to do as I pleased for at least thirty minutes. I wandered around the ghost town that would soon be occupied by so many wandering souls.
I tucked myself into a crevice and read a book, fully immersing myself in the world of Jane Eyre.
A shadow stepped in front of the rising sun, shading me. I looked up to see Lili and her twin Elizabeth. Everyone says they are identical, but they look absolutely nothing alike. It offends me when people can’t tell the difference between them. To me, they the same soul, same genetic makeup, put into two very different hosts. Maybe it was just me.
The custodian let us in, as he was accustomed to doing, since we were always the earliest one here and he had learned to trust us.
“Good morning, Mr. Joe. How was your evening?” I asked, being politely interested.
“It was fine, thank you ma’am. Have a good day.” He said as he pushed a broom in front of him, cleaning up the last bits of filth left by my fellow peers.
We walked down the hallways, making our ways to the library, our safe haven. We talked about good books we were forcing each other to read, people, and/or food. We had some unique conversations, to say the least.
Elizabeth was the more outspoken twin-translation: always being the one reprimanding me whenever I said something to vulgar. She talked more, she laughed more, and she sometimes deviated from the twins’ all black ensembles.
Lili, on the other hand, was the introvert. If she were ever in a crowd and someone had poisoned her, and the antidote was on the other side of the crowd, she would die. She was silent, and wore a lot of dark clouds. I stuck out like, well like I am, a ray of sunshine between two dark, overcast clouds. I was all Zen and polytheistic. Always wearing bright colors, and always cleansing people’s auras. I was always researching other cultures and mythologies, enhancing my knowledge.
