I remember the first day she walked the halls of Churchill High, as always she appeared confident as she strolled, head held high, down the bending hallways.
For most travelling from class to class was a struggle the halls were almost always packed full of students, ranging from 13 to 19 year olds, but when she walked through the thick crowd people seemed to notice her and when they did they parted to the sides leaving a slim pathway.
Most studied her as she walked past, her blonde hair, long and curled, the dark, navy blue eyes that shined. She wore a black tank top and tight, ripped black jeans. She looked clean and smelt of vanilla and honey, she muttered 'excuse me' but no one was listening, their gazes following her.
Except what really caught their eyes was the swipe of dark, red lipstick she had obviously rubbed evenly onto her lips before she arrived at school.
Everyone - either a year seven or year twelve- knew that the only reason those toilets were only used by desperate couples or well for doing your business. They reeked of sour perfume and urine, no one could stand three minutes in there without gasping for air. All the girl's had somehow found somewhere else to apply their powder and lipstick.
Lipstick.
Most had burgundy, nude, peach or a light shade of pink but she wore red. Which I guess caught people's attention because even after she turned the corner, all eyes followed her, all eyes waited as if she was about to come back and smile at them.
They watched because after you look at Kelly St Clair it is impossible to take your eyes off her, it is impossible to forget.
YOU ARE READING
Dangers of A Blonde
Mystery / ThrillerKelly St Clair is dangerous, you don't know it at first and you can't tell just by looking at her. You know she's dangerous when you mess with all she's got left; her friends and the memory of the mother who left alone with the father who doesn't ca...
