Mending

Part 1

Slamming my locker shut, I twisted the key; pulled it out and rushed to the other end of my school. I mean, I was literally running, which, after school is officially over – excluding any extra-curricular activities – is apparently deemed safe. So, from the second the bell at 3:10pm goes off you're officially allowed to run. Well, not really; they prefer you not to run in busy corridors.

Other than being late, you're thinking, why would someone want to run through the school corridors? Now, here's the answer; I like sport. Not to the point where I would willingly choose a profession in it but definitely to the point where I actively join in during PE lessons. I achieved a distinction-star in my BTEC Sport which I'm proud of. However. My school is like huge. I attend a prestigious private boarding school for 11-18 year olds – befriending anyone on the scholarships programmes. I'm not personally on a scholarship because I do technically come from a wealthy family, like most of the students here, but I prefer the people I've met who was on scholarships. They know what the real world is like, even more than me, and I never shy away from showing how knowledgeable revising and researching can make you. My family's money simply pay my tuition, nothing else do I get from them. Even if they offered me some cash I would refuse, knowing who it's come from.

So, anyway, back to my original point, the main building of the school is the size of three football pitches and has five floors: one for the classrooms, three for student dorms, and one for the teacher's dorms. And that's just the main building; we have three science mobiles, one sports mobile, one performing arts mobile, two massive Eden-greenhouse type things and then one football pitch, one rugby pitch, an AstroTurf the size of a hockey pitch, a 400m track, and a courtyard. Also, the back of the school is cornered in by a stretch of woods that we use for orienteering, cross-country and team-building activities in the wilderness. So, even for me, who finds joy in running at least three miles everyday, darting from one end of school to another was not classed as my favourite pastime. It's not an easy feat for anyone with the need to dodge lockers, lingering students, trophy cabinets and sharp corners.

As I sprinted past a window looking out to the vast forest belonging to the campus, I remembered the one time I had to camp out a week in there with four other girls, without any warning or preparation and without many supplies. I think it's fair to say I dominated the group because they were all I-don't-have-to-do-this, if-I-was-stranded-I'd-just-call-Daddy-to-send-the-chopper girls but they couldn't go anywhere because we'd been marched there blindfolded, had our electronic devices taken away and we were not given maps. Little did they know I knew the way out. And knew about another group – all boys – that were camped about an hour's walk from us. Stuck up brats never said thank you for the food I stole and won for them. We were given a challenge each day in order to win food but I stole some of the boys' food. It wasn't against the rules. It's a dog-eat-dog world.

They were also some of the girls that gave me the pleasure of accidently-on-purpose tripping up when they walk on the track in our PE classes. Yes, walk, not run. I don't think they ever knew it was me because they always turned their heads to see who was behind them - by that time I was 50 metres ahead of them.

Finally, I burst through the doors into the auditorium. "I'm so sorry I'm late, Mr Holt."

The performing arts teacher stopped in whatever he was saying to look over at me. He gave me a strange look, "Are you all right, Sophie?"

A wave of tiredness and nausea washed over me, forcing me into a seat. "Yeah. Yeah. Just give me a second," I closed my eyes whilst rooting around in my bag for my water bottle and Weetabix Oaty Bar. Chocolate Flavour, of course. "It'll pass in a few minutes," I continued more to myself.

"OK. Now that it seems we are all here; I shall pass around all your scripts individually. All of your particular parts in the script have been highlighted for you," he began to weave around the seating to give out the scripts to specific people.