Safety Scissors: REBOOT

Chapter Two: Scissor Locker

Warning: May contain triggering content, graphic scenes of harm, or bad language, Be cautious, and be nice. Happy reading :)

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You parked into a spot, next to a black car. You found it a tad ominous, considering the fact that there was a shovel in the back of it, but, that was a thought for another time.

You found the school rather impressive in size, you had never been in a school more than two floors tall. The courtyard was seen from the parking lot, the balcony showing from where you were. People were flooding in, some dancing, doing tricks, and simply chattering.  The loud noise helped you calm down just a little, the incessant sounds causing the thoughts of previous to flow away with each conversation you heard in passing. It was calm, if but for a moment, watching the clock hit,

[8:06 am]

You shut the car off, sitting for one more second in contemplation before picking  up your bag and slamming the door shut as you exited. The car was old, somewhere from the early 2000's to the late 90's. It was a good car, and it was reliable. You loved it, almost as much as a couple of the trinkets you had on the shelves in your room. It was one of the many things you prized, if not for the object itself, then for the simple appreciation that you had it available. You gazed at your schedule, guiding yourself inside and to the locker that stuck out like a sore thumb in it's unmistakable plain colour. The others were decorated, from strange, food-looking blobs, to a keyboard, the one most catching your eye though, was a scissor locker. It stood out to you, above the rest. The wide range of scissors making it look sharp but beautiful. Mysterious, but absolutely alluring, in a nature that made you want to gravitate towards it.

 Scissors were something you knew well. They sent a shiver up your back, skin prickling in familiarity at the sight of them on that locker. They looked safe though, glued or stuck into the locker, unable to hurt you. The strange sense of safety washed over you, your gaze still set on the locker. The scissors. The familiarity. It sent you into overdrive. You couldn't stop staring, not noticing the way that your breath was a little frozen, or how the owner of the locker sidled up to the dark, beautiful masterpiece that was their locker, matching it in allure and mystery. If you were to write about her, it would've been poetic in the very least. The way her hair fell down in tendrils, the way she had confidence exuding from her stride, but seemingly a mask, one you knew well as you wore it too. One of hiding all emotions. One of a long, dark history. One that hid all you were from the world. That held darkness internally, and emotions ready to burst at any time. The mask was worn by her well, and even with it, she was strikingly beautiful in every sense, even without personality. You have been educated enough on romance to know what this means, but not ever that it would happen, it scared you, knowing you could get all of that just from looking at somebody.

Everyone was bustling around you, as you had not heard the bell ring, going to their classes. The girl who owned the locker looked straight at you, smirking, before walking to her class. You looked at your schedule, walking to class quickly, having not taken enough time to deposit stuff at your locker, or replace the lock. You never really did combo locks, and you aren't starting now.

The class had a theatre type set up, the clock sitting dead centre of the room, and rows upon rows of chairs, the girl from before sitting in the centre row. There was a red head in the back, and a brunette sitting next to her and a strange boy with a puppet. A boy with dark, almost black hair walked in behind you, bumping into you before you scrambled off to a seat, a few away from the 'scissor lady' as you have now dubbed her.

[8:20]

A man who seemingly had the general disposition of a crazy otaku, mixed with a psychosis patient and a homeless man, who spent his money on drugs rolled into the classroom, his balding hair and strange fashion sense striking your senses, and making you confused, class having started 5 minutes ago.

"Hello everybody. Today is a faaNTAsTiC day and we have a new student. Would Mx. [Y/n] walk up to the front?" He sipped a coconut with a straw, while you looked at him with a slight bit of anxiety, and a quirked eyebrow, before sighing and walking up to the front, shouldering your bag.

The class stared at you until you started talking. The features on your face schooled, posture straightening, and you spoke clearly, but not too loudly, trying not to upset anybody.

"Uh... I'm Y/n, S/n..."

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Sorry it was a little late i was busy. Please vote, comment, do whatever, and have a lovely day loves. Hope you liked it.