Tongue-Tied

Rose

John: be Rose.

You are now Rose, sitting in a classroom. It is quite boring, really. You already know most of what they're teaching.

Far more interesting are the other kids in the classroom. You take notes as they giggle and pass notes. You are quite sure that you can find some wort of mental disorder for them. After all, they clearly have a hard time processing some things. For example, they seem to believe you're a Goth, which you admit on first sight could be true, but it is odd as you tell them every day that you are not a Goth, you are a person, as you do not believe social cliques to be becoming and therefore not something that you will ever be part of you. 

Someone passes you a note. Probably some frippery that you have no time to waste on. It is probably something about a crush.

Rose: Resist urge to open note.

You fail to resist the urge. You open the note, and to your surprise, the note is about you. Of course, this interests you greatly. The writing would suggest someone left handed with  some sort of superiority complex.

Watch out for the evil goth witch! She'll put curses on you!

Also enclosed was a crappy drawing of you holding a wand. You roll your eyes, doing your best to shrug it off. It isn't as if these people are interesting or remotely  worthy of your sadness and despair. There are far more noble people to feel upset for. 

Of course, those people would never try to make you feel bad, ever. Because they are your friends.

?????: You're worth it, Rose.

You swing around to see who said that, and possibly to psychoanalyze their need to make you feel better. But nobody's there.

Rose: Look behind you.

You look out the window behind you. Standing there is a girl, about your age. Her long blonde hair is being blown every which way by the gale outside.

Since when was it windy out?

Rose: Ponder mysterious change in weather.

You don't have to. The weather around your private school is constantly changing.

Rose: Ponder mysterious stranger's identity.

You wonder who she could be. She did not resemble anyone you've seen thus far in the school year. A transfer student? She would have been introduced. Most likely and interloper from some other school. Though why she would skip school to go to another school is really puzzling. Perhaps she came to see you?

You shake your head. You refuse to believe that someone you didn't even know would skip school and risk being caught just to whisper some cryptic words of advice in your ear.

Rose: turn around again.

You turn back around, hoping to catch a second glimpse of the strange girl. She is still there. She waves good bye.

Rose: say thank you.

Those windows are made of bulletproof glass. No way she would hear you. But scribble a not on your notepad and press it up against the window. When you pull it away from the window, no one is there.

Rose: face awkward situation of explaining what you just did to the teacher.

Your teacher was asleep for the whole thing. She'd just assigned a test, so after passing the papers out to the first in every row, she promptly launched herself into the blissful arms of Morpheus, the god of dreams and sleep.

You start on your test.