Exceptional (On Hold)

Chapter Six

     “Support your voice with air, a large quantity of air,” instructed my teacher, Miss Bellefonte. “Breathe deeply. Expand your lungs—there you go. Now, reach for the high note.” I closed my eyes, feeling my lungs and chest expand as I breathed in deeply. The comfortable gray-and-white fabric of my dress was loose enough to allow for this deep inhalation. I cannot explain what the neurons of my brain fire at one another in order to set my vocal cords at the right placement for the note I desired, but it seemed magical to me. I reached with my voice as though reaching for a monkey bar with my hand and the opera-worthy note resonated throughout the room. Miss Bellefonte smiled at me. “Excellent, Charlotte! You have truly exceptional natural talent!”

     I had been with the Web for a full week now, attending the school as so desired by the Web. We were tested in to each subject, so no one was behind or ahead in anything; the Web’s tests placed us where we needed to be in each subject, taking science and mathematics and language arts and history as separate entities. I sat with a group largely consisting of much older people in language arts and history, and with people my age in science and mathematics. I attended the school for the specified hours, and then went to my lessons; over the weekend, we had lessons for a longer period and then had the rest of the day free. Unfortunately, I had been incredibly bored on Saturday and Sunday; Lydia and I had very few privileges as we had only just arrived at the Web.

     In the meantime, I dwelled on the mysterious Oliver Beckett and each of his cryptic comments. He occupied a large portion of my thoughts in between schooldays and lessons, causing Lydia to tease me—for all the wrong reasons. I was intensely curious, and the dark-haired boy knew exactly how to work that trait to his advantage. I wondered how he knew so much about me, for he obviously knew my characteristics, and what he wanted. Lydia assumed I liked him. Although undeniably handsome, Oliver had made me feel uneasy, a feeling I hated.

     I finished looking over the simple melody Miss Bellefonte had written on a piece of crisp white paper; I nodded and returned it to her, already able to hear the pretty tune in my head. I shaped my mouth into ‘ah’ as she instructed me to and took a deep breath, intending to sing the entire melody in one breath. Miss Bellefonte said I needed control and endurance, and set me small riffs to attempt in one breath. They would grow increasingly longer, but for now, this short melody would suffice. I sang ‘ah’ to her.

     “Good, good, make sure you push through to the end; you went a bit flat there as you ran out of air. We are out of time now; I will see you tomorrow, Charlotte!” Each lesson had ended abruptly like that; the first time, I had felt hopelessly confused. I quickly realized that that was simply the was Miss Bellefonte was, and accepted the suddenness of her actions and thoughts. She was a nice enough woman, kind and firm, but she lacked warmth. I felt no connection with her or desire to see her, but I did enjoy lessons. I loved singing with a fierce passion.

     Part of me began to doubt how a society that condemned people for being passionate about something could possibly be a society worth living in.

     I politely curtsied to my teacher and departed, reviewing what homework I had to complete for tonight. I had received an essay for language arts and two worksheets from mathematics. Miss Bellefonte requested that I practice my range of singing each night, working to increase it and support it. “Oh, yes, Miss Charlotte—you will meet your assignment tomorrow. Please keep an open mind.” I curtsied again without replying, silently hoping I would work with decent people. I suddenly remembered Oliver Beckett again.

     I returned to my rooms, finding them empty. Lydia had not yet returned from her lessons. I had seen none of her work so far, although she had certainly heard me sing in my bedroom. It would be rather difficult to avoid her hearing me, considering my talent was audible anyhow. Lydia, however, would have to physically show me her paintings in order for me to see her skill. I idly debated on asking her to show me, eventually deciding against it. I liked Lydia, despite everything, and I would not intrude upon her privacy.

     A knock sounded on the door. I peered through the peephole—something that greatly fascinated me –and saw the brunette from my first day at the Web. I opened the door and she greeted me, stepping inside before I invited her in. “Oh—my apologies! My name is Susannah. I figured you might want a friend. Charlotte, right?”

     I hated that everyone seemed to know my name. Why did everyone know my name? What had I done? I eyed Susannah rather suspiciously. She smiled an awful lot and seemed nice enough, but I didn’t trust her one bit. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt uneasy being near her—not in the same way that Oliver Beckett had made me uneasy, but in a way that told me Susannah was not all she seemed to be. “Yes, I am Charlotte,” I said cautiously. Susannah already knew my name, so there could not possibly be any harm in confirming it.

     Susannah tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Charlotte, I can easily help you find your niche here. I’ve been here for almost four years now, since I was thirteen. With friends in the right places, you could quickly find yourself enjoying the Web more.” I instantly wanted to reject Susannah’s offer. I distrusted her motives and I distrusted the Web. “If you need some time to make your choice, the offer still stands. I’m apartment four. Knock three times if you want me.” With a congenial wink, Susannah left, sweeping out the door elegantly.

     I’d never realized that people actually wink. It seemed so strange to me. I wondered where Susannah had come from. She hadn’t offered a last name, so I had no means of even guessing. She had no accent, either, which could easily be a result from so much time at the Web. I was only certain that Susannah was not from my district of Midvale. She looked too poised, too well brought-up, to have come from my district.

     Lydia returned soon after Susannah had left. I still felt confused and disconcerted, which must have shown on my face because Lydia immediately asked me what was wrong. I could tell she didn’t believe my breezy ‘I’m fine’, but she let the matter rest. Bless her. She simply made small talk, telling me about the people in her classes at the Web’s school. The only lesson we had together was language arts, so we had different stories from the day. I listened absently, occasionally making pointless comments of acknowledgement towards the words I wasn’t paying attention to. At long last, Lydia excused herself to do homework; I groaned inwardly when I realized it was a good idea for me to do my homework, too. Reluctantly, I shuffled towards my room with my schoolbooks in my arms. I would really just rather sing every day, not bother with this useless schooling. I had no desire to do anything but sing, and even that carried less joy than I had expected. When the Web told me to do something, I preferred not to listen.

 A.N- Correction, Chapter 5 was decent. THIS is my awful filler chapter. I apologize for the length of the wait from last chapter to this piece of junk, and also for how short this one is. I promise the next chapter will get much more interesting!