No Escape

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I repeatedly tapped on the floor with my black high heels. They gave a loud tone off every time I did and I could tell that it irritated a couple of people in my environment. Our professor Mr. Lewis, an aged man with barely any hair left on his head and 80's glasses on his big nose, was talking about the history of dance and ballet. He kept turning around writing things onto the gigantic black board, while I just kept sighing.
Now I started to add some extra noise with my red painted nails by tapping them onto the wooden table and with the other hand I skilfully twisted my black pen around my fingers. From time to time I would take a look at my golden watch, just to disappoint myself over and over again. Still 15 minutes to go until the next course. Sometimes I really felt like boredom possessed the ability to kill.

The cool thing about university was that we did not need to be there and were allowed to do whatever we wanted to if it did not disturb the learning environment. So I decided to pick out my phone with its blue silver Chanel case wrapped around and checked my messages. Nothing on WhatsApp as always. I was not exactly one of the famous and social people, but I certainly was loved by authorities, which was enough for me. However, I was highly idolized by lesbians, which was why I had an app for lesbian community. That of course is something weird to have for a straight woman like me, but it has a background story.

When I was 17 I did not look as beautiful as now yet I was still attractive. I frequently talked to a guy in my age, who was very obscene and opened up about sex - like me. So one day, we always shared the same spare lessons, we discussed homosexuality and especially that one tomboy lesbian from our politics class. Eventually we figured that there were to types of lesbians and that I would belong to the hotter category. Since I did not gain much attention from men, I decided to try my luck with women. The first night I downloaded the app and designed my own page, seven lesbians had contacted me, which was quite funny. For eight years now I was using this platform. Turned out, he was right. Turned out, I liked attention regardless from who.

Unfortunately, there was nothing new - just a couple of lesbian events here and there but nothing that really caught my attention. I checked my messages and answered some members when one of them caught my attention. Her name was Em milia, probably just a weird user name way of spelling Emilia, and she had sent me a friend request. Before accepting I always study their profile and although I wrote with many beautiful women, she possessed an outstanding beauty. There was nobody like her. She had deer like light green eyes with a small swing up to her brows and shiny strong brown hair. In most of her pictures she was in foreign landscapes or at certain events, which really made her appealing. Because I literally texted with everyone, I did with her as well and just texted a "hey" with a friendly smiley and then put my phone with its screen downwards on to the table.

Taking another glimpse at my watch, I leaned down to grab my handbag from under the table. I fished out my energizing red berries smoothie and sat back against the uncomfortable chair, which hurt my back. I closed my eyes because its hardness peeved me and tried to not let it bother me that much, as I took a sip of the sweet drink and studied its black packaging.

"And that ladies and gentlemen", my professor started his final speech pushing his glasses up again, "is how ballet reached international success and appreciation. Today we need to finish a bit earlier, so have a nice weekend."
I murmured a "thanks" and a "you too" before I packed my things into my black handbag and left the auditorium. I made my way up to the garden to eat outside before the next lesson began. It was autumn, which meant that we needed to survive a little IceAge and afterwards the sudden and scientifically unexplanable mystery of a fire comet's appearance.

The garden was not actually a real garden, it was more like the entrance to our university yard. A rather big and modern but low slung fountain was integrated into the yards center greeting anyone entering and to it's the left and right there were banks and grassland without any flowers. After moving around the water spatter the huge rather antique looking building appeared fully visible. It was obvious that its rosie colors had vanished and drifted into a gray one, which did not let everything appear sad and melancholic because of the green trees and plants. During winter, however, it looked a bit more like a solemn High Court, where only politicians and distinguished lawyers were granted the permission to enter. Nevertheless, our university seemed like somebody had thrown a huge cement block from a thousand kilometers above the ground down, which received an antique touch but was unmovable and set heavy in the ground. Whenever I stood in front of it I felt I needed to show respect. It was like meeting my grandparents.