Tearlet

Chapter 2

Ch. 2-

I look down at the pink slip, a copy of my schedule, and check the room number 4C. I stuff it in my jackets pocket and head up the flight of stairs.

It's my first day of school, a Tuesday, but not the first for other students. This is the first time that I walk these stairs and halls, so as an instinct, I take in every small detail, the windows, and every exit. I have them already memorized just by glancing at them. It is a talent of mine that is part of this bittersweet curse. The curse enhances my brain, that makes me memorize quickly and not forget, helpful for school. Oh, and also helpful for killing.

The reason for this is that whoever gave me my fate was smart enough to use a smart teen for this dirty job. One wouldn't want a dumb teen to be a death angel, a monster.

OWA has grades from Kindergarten to 12th grade. It is a huge home filled with large bedrooms that is transformed to modern day classrooms. It raises up four stories, the main offices and the dining room -- cafeteria -- is on the first floor. Elementary is on the second. Middle school on the third. And High school on the top -- fourth -- floor.

It seems ancient. Based on the brochures Dad made me read. It was built in the early 1900's and was used to be for the Wood's home for five short generations. The furniture are 1900's style, but the school has updated the electricity and the technology.

Also, based on some internet research, the last man that lived in here had given it up to the government, the same moment he was on his death bed. A horrible way to die. Mr.Wood had the government by his side making him sign papers as he takes his last breaths, instead of having his own children comforting him.

The over used word, Oak, came from the schools street name, Oak Road. I say its stupid. They should have named it Oak Road Academy. Not to an old man, but I guess thats "respecting the dead". Not like I ever do that.

The street name came from the oak trees that shade this whole town. It leaves it cool, super cold in the fall, and hides the street in shadows. The area is large, but every person is separated. They are not separated by fences, but land instead, giving privacy for the mansions and dividing the homes.

Privacy everywhere; how I like it.

I climb the stairs, heading to the fourth floor, where I believe my classes are supposed to be. This exercise would have drained any normal persons energy, but it barely effects me, because I am nothing near normal.

On the fourth floor there are students roaming around. I stop now, and watch them. Some sat on benches or stood. A few sat on the floor and they received dirty glances from the ones who stood. Some were studying and others were chattering, but most fixed themselves.

With one glance I instantly know all of them are rich snobs. It seems like they must have woken up early to groom themselves, head to toe, for hours. Even in the halls, the girls apply gloss to their lips or powder to their face, and the boys keep brushing their hairs back, every other minute.

Most of the boys have that similar rich-guy-haircuts. And I noticed that none of these students have bizarre pink hair, neon lip gloss, or face peircing. So these Americans are not those crazy ones you would see on television, but instead the ones you would see in those white people movies, that end happily.

I groan. I don't know if I can start liking this school. I keep walking towards my classroom. A few steps untill I reach 4C. But the problem is, these students are cluttered near it. They cannot all possibly be in one classroom...

As I walk it gets quiter and every girl turns there head. I feel them stare at me in awe. A few girls start fanning themselves and I feel nervous already. People would think that I am blessed to have my charms, but really its not a "blessing". It just part of the curse. It makes my job easier by drawing in these helpless girls.