The Becoming of Ocean Wilde

t h r e e

o c e a n

When I get home, the house is empty. It's going to be like this from now on. I have to remind myself everyday that I have me. I am never alone because I will always have myself. Me myself and I.

I shut off my bike, the roar of the engine blatantly absent from the air. The jingle of my house keys as I pull them from my bag is the only sound to be heard as I unlock the door and step inside, over the half empty moving boxes and up the stairs. I flop onto my bed and look up at the ceiling. Alone.

° ° °

After finishing all the homework from today, not much, I make my way through the packing boxes to the kitchen to make spaghetti Bolognese, pulling up my foot stool to reach the shelves where I had previously shoved a few dishes wrapped in tissue paper and by the time I've finished eating, it's about 5:00, and I have absolutely nothing to do. So instead of moping around, waiting for my life to get interesting, I do the next best thing: books.

° ° °

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Hammering my alarm a few times, I slowly get out of bed, not bothering to make it, and head to the bathroom. Once finished I only have one thing on my mind: coffee. The rich and bitter drink waking me up a bit more, despite my sleepless night.

The nightmares came back last night. Plaguing me until all thoughts of sleep had disappeared from my head. Sleep was a distant memory to me. Climbing onto my motorbike, I drive towards school, not bothering with breakfast.

° ° °

"Could Ocean Wilde please make her way to the principals office immediately."

Shit. What did I do now? I happily stand from my chair and begin to make my way to the door. I mean, it's not like I was enjoying this Spanish lesson. Maybe on a normal day, maybe, but today for whatever reason my brain doesn't want co operate with me. The words just won't. Stay. Still.
I ignore the murmurs of the students around me; they had started as soon as they heard my name and bring my finger tips up, massaging my temples.

"Second day here and she's already getting in trouble? She must be a bitch." I ignore that last remark from a girl in front of me. How does me getting in trouble mean I'm a bitch? I turn around and glare in her general direction, shutting her up. Surely she could've come up with better than that.

Finally arriving at the door of the office, meeting it open, I walk inside to be met with a sight I had hoped not to see for a while. Dick. He looks just frustratingly delicious as he did yesterday. If only he wasn't such an arse. He even looks like he could be a nice person if he tried, but then again, I of all people should know by now that looks can be as receiving as a blind fold over your eyes.

He's just finishing a conversation with the headmaster, but turns to look at me when I walk in, unsurprisingly, with a condescending smirk in place. He stands from his chair as I sit.

"Well," from the tone he's using, I can almost feel him sucking up to Mr Wells. Ick. "Thank you for being able to do this for me on such a short notice. Hopefully something like this won't happen again." Wells smiles and agrees before dick smirks evilly one more time in my direction and leaves the room. Mr Wells, our head master, is a tall balding man with small, but surprisingly, not beady, nervous brown eyes.

He turns to me. "So how are you finding your first days here at Lakeview high? I trust everyone has been welcoming?" He's stalling.

"Mr Wells can I just get straight to the point with you and ask why I'm here?" I raise a brow and sigh. I'm already having a crappy day. I don't need a stuttering headteacher wasting my time as well. To harsh? I don't care.