Aware (Incomplete)

Part Two: Chapter 7

Present Day

I always wake up expecting the lights to flash on and Mum's warm face to appear from the shadows. I wait for the coconut scent of her favourite soap coupled with the delicious smells wafting from the breakfast she had cooked for me to appear. But when I open my eyes, there is only darkness. I exhale and feel the sadness pushing on my chest. That was a long time ago. And today, I am taking a new path and embarking on a new adventure.

Lying with my eyes shut I take in the unfamiliar feel of the room where we were placed late last night. I listen to the symphony of snores which echo off the empty walls and linoleum. I don't need to be aware, to know that I am not alone here. I run my mind along the rows of beds. There are ten of us in total. Most of us are of similar age, but one in his early thirties. Each aura is unique, but I sense more similarities within this room than usual. Everyone is nervous, even as they sleep. I understand why. I feel the same way. This is the beginning of our lives and no one wants to screw it up. I sense ambition and stubbornness which I think will be necessary for the upcoming days. From what I can feel, there are many strong personalities in our group. I imagine the next couple of weeks will be eventful in more ways than one.

The lights flash on and the snores dissipate. I feel someone on a bed in the corner sit bolt upright in shock. I blink against the harsh light and brace myself for the storm I feel brewing.

"GET UP! GET UP!" A man yells from the doorway! "WHAT ARE YOU LAZY ANIMALS STILL DOING IN BED?!" The tone of his voice doesn't match the calm he feels within.

"FIVE MINUTES! OUTSIDE! MOVE!" The entire atmosphere of the room changes the instant his large shadow passes from the doorway. The race is on. The room is electric with excitement and fear. I throw off my thin sheets and shove my feet into my already tied sneakers. I pull at the fabric tabs at the back of my shoes, attempting to wriggle my feet in past the laces. I am already dressed. I look around at the people who I will be living with for the next few weeks as they wrestle with various items of clothing. The room is a tornado of grey and black barely concealing glimpses of bare skin. Many people stand in nothing but their underwear, modestly momentarily forgotten as the adrenaline sets in.

"Hey!" A male voice calls from behind me. I spin around, glad to see he is fully clothed. He is tall with short brown hair and he is wearing a grey shirt with outrageously short shorts. The outfit is identical to my own. I almost laugh at the black shorts which ride a little too far up his legs, exposing his white thighs. He notices me looking and shakes his head. The embarrassment he hides from his face and posture is barely noticeable in his aura. In fact, I barely notice his aura at all. I feel for the girl on the bed opposite mine wearing a black lycra headscarf. Her overwhelming excitement rushes over me and my nerves tingle with the sensation. Weird. It was like the signal I was receiving from him was weaker than it was from other people. He waves his arms in my face, breaking my concentration and cutting through my awareness. "Help me with my bed and I'll help with yours?"

I nod and move across to the bed adjacent to mine where the boy motions to. I take up position on the side closest to the door and help him tuck the sheet in tight. When his bed is made, we do the same to mine. I take extra care on the corners, so they are folded neatly around the harsh edges of the mattress. We step back to appreciate our hard work. It isn't perfect, but compared to the chaos around us, it looks pretty good. With one last glance into the room, we jog towards the door, eager to get outside and away from the excitement.

The moment our feet contact the bitumen outside I realise we had made a mistake. A thin, crisp-looking woman dressed in an impeccable suit stands next to the large man from this morning Their silhouettes are side by side in striking contrast. In the growing light, I struggle to make out any facial features or colours, but the man's aura sneers with petty joy. I have already turned back towards the door, pulling the boy along with me when the yelling recommences.

"DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BETTER THAN THE OTHERS? DO YOU WANT A PRIZE?" It sickens me to feel how much he was enjoying this. "GO AND HELP YOUR TEAMMATES!"

We barely hear the last few words as the weighted door swings shut behind us. I'm panting, doubled over in the corridor. The air is moving quickly through my lungs from the effort of running, but the boy seems unphased. I laugh awkwardly and look up at him.

"He's a happy man, I'm sure," I comment. The corner of the boy's lips twitch but I don't know what he is feeling. It's strange for me. Excluding brief moments of emotional outbursts from the boy, I have no idea what's going on inside his head.

He holds out his hand. "Matteson," he says. I smile and reach for it. My cool hand dwarfs in comparison. As they connect, my hand is engulfed in his, all the way to my wrist. He shakes it lightly.

"Norman," I respond. Mina Norman was a bit of a tongue twister, but not without a good cause. It was the surname of my foster family. They treated me like I was their own daughter and to repay them I took their name. I found it also stopped people from asking sensitive questions when they noticed that I didn't share a surname with my family.

Although our introduction was sweet, it is cut short by the scraping and shuffling from inside the room. The fear of being yelled at again is at the forefront of my mind, and looking across at Matteson I know I am not the only one.

We head back towards the room.

Given that we are all legally adults, I cannot believe how long it takes us to get everyone ready. More than ten minutes had elapsed when we all finally emerged from the building, the morning light casting shadows on the bitumen. We awkwardly stumble into a gaggle in front of the man and woman. The large man steps forward, his imposing figure towering above us.

"Twenty-four minutes!" The presence of the woman seems to have calmed him down somewhat. "That took you twenty-four minutes." He glares down at us from behind his wide nose. He looks like he wants to say more but he stops himself. "This will not happen again." He finishes.

The lady stares at us emotionlessly. She doesn't want to be here, but she feels obligated. She wears a black suit, both blazer, and trousers with a black shirt buttoned up to the top. It is ironed to perfection with a sharp crease in either sleeve. The strangest part of her ensemble is her shoes. Despite the formal attire, she wears a pair of black and white sneakers.

She raises her clipboard from under her arm and starts to read.

"Welcome to Harlow – Amphibious Academy Six."