As I walk into the dreary beige classroom, I duck to avoid hitting my head for the second time today. Some of the kids snicker at my appearance, but I ignore them. I drop into a seat in the middle of the second last row and kick my bag under the desk.
"Well somebody woke up in a bad mood." I turn around and give a sarcastic smile to the person sitting behind me. Warren lifts his hands in the air as if I pointed a gun to his head.
"Hey, hey, now. No need to be aggressive." He says winking at me. I roll my eyes and continue looking to the front of the class, at the pointless neon yellow information in front of the dark screen. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I slink deeper into my chair.
"Um, excuse me. Sir?" A tall girl with short curly purple hair is standing next to the door. Her deep blue eyes burning with anger. The teacher sighs.
"Oh, right yes. This is Fae, she's transferring to this school. She just moved here and doesn't have any friends. So just... be nice....and welcoming." He says, obviously exasperated.
Fae looks at the teacher with absolute loathing and then, with a pretentious 'hmph' she flicks her hair and sits down in the seat next to me. She seems so enraptured with the nonsense on the bored that I decide its safe to look at her. I don't know why I want to look at her, but I turn my head slowly. Her books are scattered across the table all covered in brightly coloured wrapping paper. Her writing tablet is decorated with stickers of a large assortment of food. Her face, splashed with asymmetrical freckles, bears a soft, flat brow with large, close- set eyes, pure deep blue, waves stretching from the rapidly moving pupils to the edge of her irises, unbroken and golden.
It takes me a second to realise those eyes are on me.
I panic. She seems to look right through me, her face unreadable. Maybe it's the challenge of her gaze, maybe it's the beauty of her eyes but I can't look away from her, not now. . I feel my face growing warm. Then she smiles at me, waves and focuses her attention back to the screen. I slump back in to my desk, trying to hide the uncontrollable smile creeping onto my lips and the bubble of energy bouncing around my skull. She looked at me! She smiled at me! She cared. Maybe I should care too. At least about something.
But then the bubble of energy disappears, and the smile flattens into a tight unwavering line. This place will break her soon enough. She's a spark, but she's not bright enough to light the fire.
The bell rings. That means it was time for Religious Studies. The teacher replaces the screen with another. Instead of picturing a group of meaningless numbers and letters, on this screen was written a few short lines of phrase so ingrained in my brain they seemed to jump out of the screen and float around the teacher as he recites them in a low ancient voice, that doesn't seem quite his own:
If you loved her
Why did you eat her
Why did you call her
Why did she come
Now she'll kill you
Or she'll try to
gone is your spring
no more September
He motions at the class to continue the poem, and they do in a broken chorus of the lowest energy feeding the highest enthusiasm. It's probably one of the worst sounding things I've ever heard in my life. And I have to hear it every day. What's worse is that I have to be a part of it! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Fae staring at the screen, trying to make out the words and the tune. Then her eyes light up, a sure sign of her remembrance of the words, and she began to sing the dreary song loudly and melodiously. She makes the ugly tune and archaic words sound beautiful and ancient, as if coming from a fairy-tale. And the bubble in my skull is coming back and the smile was seeping on to my face. The temptation to sing along with her is almost irresistible as if this is something I am made to do. But the words of the song warn me somehow. I know that if I sing them now, they will be stuck in my head forever. This is a familiar feeling, but still something I can't force out of myself. This song is something I will never sing, even though I hear it everywhere I go. This song is at the beating heart of lo dolobha. What makes my people believe that they have to restrict so much of their lives. The corsets, the hair left to grow out, the uncomfortable clothes, the unwavering loyalty- it's all thanks to this song. And I know that I sing it, I'll become just like them. That's why I only mouth to the words, I only pretend. Most of my life is pretending. But I think it's better to have something to hide, than become plain and boring like everyone else. Than to become a mindless patriotic citizen never questioning everything. Even though I have millions of questions, I have to find them by myself with no help from anyone. But that's ok, I'm used to it.
What breaks my heart is that Fae has chosen (quite enthusiastically I might add) to be a part of this madness. I wonder if everyone has a feeling like I do. If they do, they must have more willpower than me. How strange to think I am the weakest person ever. How strange to think I might be the strongest person ever. Maybe I'm both. Maybe I'm just a curious oddball, who believes in gut feelings and individuality. Maybe I'm wrong, but no one will ever know. I'm a good pretender and no one can see inside my head.
>>
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YOU ARE READING
Beneath
PrzygodoweBeatrix is stuck in a world she doesn't want to be in. Abusive parents, boring repetitive day-to-day life, and feeling completely alone is finally getting to her. The only thing keeping her afloat is a book she found in an abandoned library long ago...
