Mary's Song

Hey there besties!

So this is my first book *on this account* and I'm not gonna make a big fancy intro.. Idk BRAH...

But I must add, this book is based on general high school life (aka, swearing, sexual references)

If you've watched LOL (the movie) then you're right as rain to read this.

Ok hope you somewhat enjoy it...

P.S. Didn't proof read :/

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Reflections.

Some like them.

Others don't.

Me personally?

I don't care.

Normally.

This reflection, there was just something different about it. I don't know. It was almost as if it was carrying a negative energy. Like I was slowly caving in. Giving in.

Giving up.

And not only was it me, but everyone else around me was falling deep into it as well. Like we were all moths to a lamp.

Seems so harmless... Think again.

We're all trapped inside a room. No door. Like we have to complete a task. And can't escape until it's done.

Finished.

Gone.

It was a strange thought, to be thinking about being trapped. But was I thinking, or was I just trapped in my own mind?

My own thoughts.

My own ideas.

My own stupid ideas.

I was trapped in ME.

Oh. Hang on let me decipher that for you.

No, I'm not tapped inside my own ridiculous body.

I was trapped in Maths Exams.

"Miss Moore, are you having an enjoyable nap there?" Boomed a voice from above.

"Well I WAS and then you appeared for no real important reason." I spoke softly, as I slowly rose my head from the hard wooden desk, already feeling the heat being lost in the cold crisp morning air that lurked in the classroom. Leaving behind my reasonably peaceful thoughts of simply avoiding maths reflections as nobody likes them, may or may not have been considered as one of the most biggest challenges ever.

Besides this horrific thought of this tragedy that was about to occur, I let my brain rack it's own filling cabinet of possible ways I could get out of this ridiculous (and completely pointless on my behalf) test, as it was hard to find an excuse on my own that hasn't already been used. In doing so, I allowed my eyes to wonder all over this sad and slightly scary classroom.

Students of the 11th grade occupied the rows upon rows of aged, misused & misplaced desks, many with pointless and deep engraving carved into their thick wooden top. The metal poles that held up these distressed desks with fractures hearts, where beginning to rust, and have all love withdrawn from them as well.

The chairs were like these tables lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet. Being moved around. Like they can never be together for more than one day, because someone comes in between and moves them, steps on them. But the chairs almost seemed to have their own ways to pass the time of being away from their love. They sat in lines, but all with different colours. Honestly, no two colours in this depressing classroom were the same. Some chairs were a strong and bold orange. So fearless. Knowing that nothing could hold them down.. Until someone sat on them of course.