Smiling in the rain

Chapter 5: Faye

Songs for this chapter:

Let Me Fade~ Kate Miller-Heidke

Over Again~ One Direction

Something Great~ One Direction

***

Words.

His words.

Carefully chosen words,

laced with lies,

escape those oh so deceiving lips.

But she, with the fragile,

weak heart,

believes.

Words which

etch into her mind.

Words which

consume her in entirety.

Words which

will soon

snap

the fraying strings

which hold her heart together.

But soon,

he himself,

will, believe his own phrases.

But he realises too late.

Because she sees

all too well through that

lustrous darkness.

Once thought

sweet words,

appear sickening

once uttered by

him.

***

I glance worriedly at Elsa sketching goodness-knows-what on the desk, but I decide to seal my lips for now. I can almost feel the rage radiating off her for not waiting for her before assembly. I caught a blonde haired boy slinging his arm around her. I hope she hasn't already got a boyfriend on hardly the second day of school. I've seen girls with low cut tops and skirts that hardly cover their backside gazing at him from a distance. He wouldn't be good for her.

But, I simply couldn't wait for her. Punctuality is a key component of schooling. I promised I'd do well here. I promised.

I gulp and focus all my thoughts on the Animus Assessment ahead of me. The test was described so vaguely by the Professor. No syllabus to study from. No notes given beforehand. I remember my jaw dropping and Elsa's quizzical expression towards me when the Professor stated the words: 'As I have previously mentioned, you will be sorted into house groups. These of course, are assessed on your personality and character traits. Each one of you is unique, but you will be able to bond closely with those in your own house.' It seems all a little too ridiculous. How can an examination possibly be conducted without study materials been given before hand? How is a ranking system even possible?

A sharp pain begins to pierce my temples and I press my index finger to them in a pathetic attempt to massage the pain. I feel cold sweat collecting at the tip of my nose. I quickly swipe a tissue out my hoard in my pocket and dab at it tenderly. I wring the soft material over and over in my fingers, on the verge of pulling it to shreds. I let my eyelids droop and take deep breaths through my nose and let the air escape through my lips. Suddenly, a sweet voice calls, 'Elsa Hathaway!' The voice startles me slightly, but I finally recognise the voice as Miss Reinhart's.