Heartfelt Transitions [First Draft]

First

Hands hanging at my side, I circled around, looking at the kitchen. My head felt heavy and my eyes itched, having just woken up.

The dining table was all misaligned, a couple of plates shattered on the ground but that was it. The mess wasn't too bad.

Retying my hair up loosely so that they didn't hinder my vision, I began to clean up after the remains of what had happened last night.

I reset the table and chairs, and quickly washed the two or three dishes which had survived.

A small wince escaped my lips as a shard pricked my thumb, making blood trickle. I put the finger in my mouth, sucking on it and letting it ease the sting out.

I rushed back upstairs, taking a quick shower, putting on the first clean sweatpants and t-shirt I got my hands on, shoving in my phone and headphones.

I rushed back down, picking a sandwich up from last evening and closing the doorway behind me, heading for my cycle. Everything in me was determined to head off before my parents could wake up.

School was restarting today. After a month.

And I was seriously fucking relieved.

The break had been mortifying. I had gotten so done with being stuck in my house by the end of it.

I mean, it sucked. School sucked. But it was all about Albert's theory of relativity. Nice guy.

In school, you could sit in one corner and mind your own business. You just had to deal with occasional bullshit from some classmate or when a teacher very cruelly decided to ask you the answer to some question.

This was my final year anyway. Just this one and then I could be off to university, miles away from stuff.

I had gone over my game plan for the new session. Like, you know, when students decide that they will work really hard blah blah but it only ends up happening for the first two weeks?

Well yeah, my game plan was going to be consistent and realistic.

I was going to keep my head low, force through the turmoil that would unfold and then would get into whatever university that would accept me.

Easy.

I paddled faster, feeling the high from the cool wind biting against my skin and my hair slapping to my face.

It took me about 15 minutes daily to reach by cycle and I didn't mind the drive one bit. It was nice. Silent. No one could physically say anything to a girl who was cycling off.

Reaching the parking, I got off my cycle and readjusted my bag slinging on one arm of my shoulder.

Students were scattered around in places, in groups and pairs, talking and gossiping. Sharing details of whatever their vacation had been and whatever they had felt lacking.

Yawning, I marched off my way directly to the class. I had nothing to share, might as well just hit my head against the bench in the time that remained before the start of the classes.

When I opened the door to my classroom, as per usual tradition, half of the faces looked at the door– confirming who had entered.

Most of those half faces went back to chatting but some frowned, looking at me, unusually so.

I frowned back. I was practically a ghost in class. What was making them consider my presence right now?

"Um, Sinclair." A girl smiled politely, directing her gaze at me. The two friends of hers holding back some laughter. "Your section was changed."