Dead Wonderland

System of control

Two hours after school was punishment for taking a stand against the school’s princess. School was just like politics, unfair and corrupt, brainwashing people to think those thoughts that were shared by the staff. Giving some room to form opinion and doubt was not enough. What a waste of space and time special classes were. Why not let the children experience for themselves what you are trying to teach them. You don’t know how painful fire is until you get burned. The hard chairs didn’t make way for any laziness and kept posture straighter than a ruler. Preparing an image, representatives of this twisted little community at school. Rules were followed to tee by all. Unlike most schools with chilled emotions her school was icy and hostile. The principal was a dictator at her kindest and a tyrant all other times. Facing her wrath meant being traumatized. The woman was intimidating. A fat balding man, the school secretary sat at the desk glaring at Artemesia. It was clear that he wanted to be there as much as she did. The whole point of having a large desk is to intimidate others and have them retreat and surrender. Artemesia stood her ground a glared back with enough poison to take down a water buffalo. The secretary could not have been scary if he had a backdrop of fire and a hundred talking animal slaves. People like him were meant to have petty positions like he modeled. Now leaders were where the power and the determinations set in. They were the ones that headed the important things. But the most important were the advisors. The ones who sat back and placed their pawns where they pleased. The were the ones truly in control. All they needed was to whisper a plan into a leaders head and it would grow and take place exactly how they planned. That was what Artemesia aspired to be.

Artemesia needed every bit of space she could get from stubborn opinions. Sitting in this dull room void of any imagination or hint of care she had time to contemplate. A string of frizzy hair was wrapped around her index finger which twirled unconciously as she thought. At the farthest depths of her mind which she could access at this point in her life. The clock ticked, resounded the hour, typical movies cliche. She gathered her books and bag and her heels clicked her out the door.

Brooding, Artemesia walked outside the school examining a specific object in her hand. A glittering pocketwatch rested in her hand, intricate swirls of gold swept across the face and black ebony hands clicked against a porcelain background. A close linked chain pooled in her other hand, attached to a dented loop on top of the watch. It was very out of place in the grungy neighborhood of hers. No simple minded kid that attended her school would have any interest in this item of interest. Maybe a staff member owned this piece. She would ask on Monday when they would return. She threw it up high in the air and caught it with a thud into her hand. Spinning the clock on its pretty chain she walked home kicking a large piece of concrete that had broken off the fading walkways.