Never Alone.

"And where do you think you're going Miss Meddatonian?" snapped Dr. Turner, the head of maths at Eastwood Academy, making Armaria jump and slowly spin round to face the teacher.

"I'm sorry, I was just..."

"I don't want to hear any of your pathetic excuses. This is the third time this term I have caught you wandering the corridors, when you ought to be elsewhere, in your lessons. It is the final straw Armaria, I am afraid i will have to give you a Friday detention and don't think I won't be telling your house master about this, i will be having a very serious discussion with him about your recent behaviour. Now go on, hurry on to your lesson." With that Dr. Turner shook her head and strutted back down the corridor muttering under breath. 

After double checking she was out of sight from the vindictive teacher, Armaria ducked through a pair of double doors and out into the small biology garden that was was hidden behind the prison-like science block of Eastwood Academy. She quickly ran past the dingy classroom windows that looked out into teh barren garden and crouched behind a small cherry blossom, just out of sight from the rowdy year sevens in the nearby physics lab.

Armaria breathed out deeply, no matter how many times she came out here, she still hated the ugly wasteland that it was. The only thing that kept her going out there the thought of being stuck inside, not being able to think freely, or do what he wished. And she would continue coming out until she found a better place to hide from the world. 

Armaria's thoughts raced, her mind flashing back to the memory of the teacher who had helped her pick up her books earlier today, the, the kind man who barely knew her, but still wanted to help her. He had been so friendly, without any reason behind it at all. All out of the goodness of his hear. Even so, he had been alone at lunch, while the other teachers laughed and chatted away gleefully, he sat alone, rejected, reading his book. It wasn't fair.  

"He's too good for this place, for them, for this dump," Armaria whispered under her breath, digging in her satchel for her sketchbook. Getting a biro out from her pocket she started drawing a room full of elaborate patterns and exquisite plants. Her hand dashed round the paper, not stopping for one second. In the middle of her room she started drawing a chair. By now Armaria had stopped blinking, her widened eyes were fixated on the paper and her hand was moving gracefully round the drawing at an unbelievable pace. She still sat crouched behind the tree, frozen still, as time ticked on by. After forty minutes she slipped the pen back in her pocket, smiling innocently at the unnervingly lifelike drawing of the kind teacher sitting on a chair in the middle of her page. Armaria grinned, snapped the books hut and headed back inside the dim school.