The New Rose... (Doctor Who)

The Alien In My Flat (1)

I guess every teenager feels nervous when they have to start a new school. I mean it's natural to be afraid of the unknown, the loneliness and fear that comes with the first day. That has to be completely normal, right?

So was it so weird that I was scared out of my wits to even get near the front door of Westminster School? Not only was it one of the most prestigious school in all of London and extremely hard to get accepted too, I was also a complete outsider. What could possibly go wrong? 

I take that back. Everything could've gone wrong. I could've gotten expelled my first day. I could've made a fool of myself. Honestly, I had everything to be scared of. But, despite that, I straightened my uniforms skirt, trying to look semi presentable. Honestly, I would so much rather be in a sweatshirt, jeans and red converse, but no. I had to follow their uniform, no matter how much I disliked it. I flicked a piece of unruly hair behind my ear, and took off my glasses for a quick polish, before stepping through the wide front doors.

For the first few seconds, I swore I was in Hogwarts. I mean, in my 17 years of life, I've lived pretty much everywhere. Russia, Czech Republic, Australia, Scotland, even Nauru. Now yes, I was mainly American, and yes, I had an American accent, but that didn't mean I wasn't a local in the reefs of Nauru or the moors of Scotland. I was just a... transplant.

But Westminster School was something completely surreal. A new and shining experience right in front of me. I wandered the entrance hall, examining portraits and awards, lost in thought before looking at my watch. 8:55, and class started at 9. My eyes widened in fear as I bolted down the corridor to where my map said my first class of the day, Elizabethan Era Literature. Luckily, it was near the front of the school, yet I barely got in the door on time. Students in similar uniforms stared at me, obviously wondering why the new girl was rushing in like a maniac. Quickly, I spotted a seat near the front of the room and sat down, taking out the books I needed hurriedly as if nothing had happened. I avoided eye contact with the other students, hoping I wouldn't have to explain the unfortunate set of circumstances I found myself in. What a way to start the school year. 

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Apparently I wasn't the only one late to class, though. It had been twenty minutes since my late arrival and there was still no sign of a teacher or administrative authority. Students had begun shifting in their seats nervously, whispers traveling around the room about if it was safe to leave or not. One student from the back of the room had stood and seated himself multiple times, before finally fully getting to his feet.

"I'm going!" He declared in a thick Irish accent. "It’s been long enough" Cheers erupted from other students, obviously relieved someone else had taken a stand first so they didn’t have to. I sighed, rolling my eyes at their shenanigans and settled back in my seat, reading Act One of Hamlet in my text book. 

“If the teacher doesn't care to show up, why should I?” The boy roared. The class cheered again, then a strong voice pierced through the commotion.

"What an excellent point!" The class whirled around to face the front, now noticing a tall, lanky man, around 20 years in age who had gone unnoticed by the class. He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit, a blue tie, dirty white trainers, and a pair of glasses pretty close to my own. His brown eyes gleamed happily from behind the lenses as he ran a hand through a mass of spiky brown, well, gorgeous hair. The class gawked at him, obviously confused, while he smiled back as if he hadn’t just appeared out of thin air.

"Sorry about the delay, students!" He said happily, his voice hinting an Estuary English accent. "I was just hired to this establishment yesterday and it took me a tad bit longer than I expected to find the classroom." He smiled broadly, his expression very unique and radiating joy. I smiled back at him, almost because it was impossible not to.