Dylan walked me through the black gates and led me to a large grey building. 50 students or so were out the front, going wild. There was a small group of boys lighting school textbooks on fire and chanting. As I neared the sliding doors at the front of the school I passed a group of girl who were dressed in all black with fishnets, and black eyeliner streaming down their faces as the three of them cried and moaned about boys. Dylan showed me through a long corridor to a large office. I heard yelling and screaming down the hallway. I must have had a shocked look on my face because Dylan put his hands on my shoulder.
"This is the only education I could afford for you here. You'll be fine just don't smoke anything you're unsure about or let anyone you don't trust talk to you." He winked
I smiled at him and nodded as he opened the door to the office for me. A large woman wearing a white and ill fitted blouse with a long black skirt swivelled her chair to the left of her desk, stood up and approached me with a sour look on her plump face. Her eyebrows were black and met in the center of her chubby face, her hair a faded blonde with black regrowth that made me cringe.
"Call me Mrs. Laurence. Hello." She forced a twisted smile onto her thin lips and shook my hand.
I nervously smiled and pulled my hand away from hers.
"Hello Mrs. Laurence."
She turned on her heel and sat back down on her navy swivel chair, her movements sharp and aggressive. She began to type again and I stood in her office awkwardly, admiring photographs on her desk I assumed were of her daughter. She had dark hair like Mrs. Laurence, assumedly her mother. Smoky grey eyes fringed with long lashes and perfectly arched brows. Her skin a pasty white and her cheek a rosy red, her smile lit up every picture.
"Your daughter is stunning Mrs. Laurence. Does she go here?" I broke the silence.
She gave me a chilling and pained look.
"No. Leave my office please. Your first class is across the hallway Miss Miles." She growled.
I left the office as instructed, curiosity in my chest. She seemed unfriendly the whole time but when I mentioned the girl I think I pushed the wrong button. I made my way down the hallway to my classroom and pondered the thought of what was so bad about speaking of the curious girl. If her mother was the principal of the school wouldn't you think she would attend here at her age?
- i love writing this i have so many ideas but im struggling to write it all down ugh.
