Distort the world into clarity

Chapter One: Summer vacation was coming to an end

"Mom, I've decided that I'm not going to start high school next week, I'm sorry. Please let me finish talking before you say anything. Look, I know that this may be a disappointment to you, but there is a perfectly logical reason for this. The thing is, I just don't think high school will be my 'thing', you know what I mean? I think I'm more one of those home-schooled kids, who don't have to ever go to high school, but they can still have very promising careers. Now, give yourself some credit, you are an amazing, smart and insightful woman. Surely you're capable of teaching one little fourteen year old all she needs to know? High school education isn't even that good. I'm very certain you're far more qualified to teach me. You, a woman who knows me since the day of my birth, instead of some rando's at a backwards institution where standardized tests are considered a good measurement tool for intelligence."

Beatrice looked at the ground while giving her speech. She knew that this wouldn't help her case much, since it's important to look people in the eyes when you're talking to them, but she just couldn't help it. She dreaded the look on her mother's face, the reaction she was going to get. Mothers can be extremely scary sometimes.

However, Beatrice gathered all her courage and looked up at her mother. "Please?" she added.

Her mother's face did not move at all, which scared Beatrice even more than any possible expression her mother could've had. 

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, her mother's face showed movement. Her mouth curled up and she made a horrible, dreadful sound. She laughed. 

Looking at her mother with disgust, Beatrice clenched her fists. There is nothing worse than adults laughing at you.

"I must say, it's hard to say no to those big brown eyes of yours, but I know you're just using them to manipulate me. Too bad, I won't fall for it." Beatrice's mother smirked proudly.

"But mom-"

"No buts, Bea. You're going to high school, not some kind of hell."

"You have to admit, high school and hell are pretty much the same thing."

Her mother laughed, again. "That may be so, but trust me; it can be heaven sometimes too. You'll meet so many cool people, make new friends, get a boyfriend even... Or girlfriend, whatever you're into. And that's the point, isn't it? You can figure yourself out in high school. It may be a bit scary at the beginning, but you'll get out of there alive and well, I promise." Beatrice's mother gave her a sympathetic smile, which put Beatrice more at ease. At least her mother wasn't laughing at her anymore.

The living room was silent again for a moment. With a sigh Beatrice let herself fall on the couch, next to her mother. "Are you sure?"

Her mother put an arm around her and smiled again. "Yes I'm sure. It'll be your 'thing', trust me. You just have to get used to everything first, but you'll get through it and you'll be very, very happy that you listened to your old, wise mother."

Beatrice let out a little laugh. "Well you're one of those things, but not both," she teased.

"Young lady, I really don't appreciate what you're insinuating with that tone of voice... You better be saying that I'm not old, or else."

"I'm not scared of you, not-so-young lady!" Beatrice stuck out her tongue and grinned.

"That will be the last mistake you ever make!"

Two pairs of hands attacked Beatrice's armpits vigorously. Tickling.

"No, my only weakness!" Beatrice was barely able to spit out the words. She was already struggling to breathe, the laughter overtook her entire body. She started kicking and laughin, but it was no use. Her mother was stronger. Beatrice could either give up the fight or die a tickly death. "Alright, you win. I yield."

The tickling stopped and her mother looked at her with a very serious look. "A wise decision."

Then they both burst out in laughter. Beatrice put her arm over her stomach. It was starting to hurt from all that laughing. Her face felt hot and her eyes were watery. This had to be the best kind of hurting there was, she thought.

"Now, you should sleep. It's already past eleven."

Even though Beatrice did not feel sleepy at all, even though every single fibre of her being wanted to resist her mother's demands, she knew she could not go against her mother. Sure, she could plead with big eyes and pouted lips to stay up longer or give her amazing arguments about how it's summer and all her friends go to bed at 2 a.m., but her mother's tickling attacks were clearly superior. So she just smiled. "Sure, mom."

She gave her mother a kiss on her cheek before going upstairs, to bed.

In bed, however, she was not able to sleep. Beatrice kept looking at the little dots on her ceiling. It was as if her eyes refused to close. Agitated, Beatrice pulled her blanket over her head and sighed. She turned over to her right and looked into bright red numbers. It was already two... Hours don't always go by slowly when you're trying to sleep, Beatrice noticed. Her mind kept her busy.

It travelled to the hallways of her future high school. What was she supposed to wear on that famous first day of school? No matter how many times she had heard the expression "don't judge a book by its cover", she knew that no one lived by that rule. People are always quick to judge. First impressions are important.

Maybe she should wear a dress? No, she rarely wore dresses, only for special occasions. Wearing a dress would be trying a bit too hard, right?

Would she be able to make friends? Would people like her and ask her to sit with them during lunch? Maybe she would end up alone after all...

Beatrice sighed again and started biting on her fingernails. There was too much uncertainty and she did not like it one bit. Her old school was so much more fun. She had her best friend there, a group of friends even. Everyone in class was nice to her, the teachers were pretty ok and the classes were fairly easy. How would she survive under the social and academic pressure of high school? Everything about high school made her nervous. Everything, even what colours the lockers would be.

A loud crack. The nail of Beatrice's thumb broke off. Well, half of it anyways. It was enough for Beatrice to sigh once more. She really needed to get rid of this bad habit before she would arrive in high school without any nails left.

Since sleep was nowhere to be found, Beatrice stood up and decided to do some research. She walked over to her desk and turned her laptop on. For various nights she had been trying to find an answer to the many important questions that kept haunting her at night. She opened up yet another tab on her Internet Explorer. All those windows made her feel a bit nauseous. She had so much necessary information to study. She clicked on one of the older tabs. It was about what clothes to wear in order to make a lasting impression. She read through it again, sometimes closing her eyes and mumbling some important parts of the article. She went onto the next tab about how to introduce yourself and repeated the same routine.

After revising all the old tabs, she went back to the newest, blank tab. Even though she wanted to type her question in the search bar, she couldn't. She forgot what she wanted to ask.

Disappointed with her awful memory, Beatrice turned off her laptop and went to bed again. She kept on wondering what her question was about exactly.