Audrey

Audrey

A Chapter by Goliath
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The first three chapters serve as an introduction to the 3 main characters, and a subtle start to the story line.

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    I want to kill myself I thought as Ms. Campbell droned on and on reading some monologue from Romeo and Juliet in third period English. Seriously her voice was annoying. It was way too breathy and over dramatic as she tried (and epically failed) to sound “romantic.”
    “She speaks! O' speak again, bright angel!” Even her body movements we extra exaggerated and made me want to hit my head against a wall, even though that wouldn't do a thing for my sleep deprived induced headache. She wasn't the slimmest person in the world, and her double chin and arm fat was giggling everywhere. I'm not really a shallow person, but it's one of those things you can't help but notice. Her outfit didn't help much either. She was wearing a bright yellow pantsuit which made her look like the sun, and annoyed me. Probably because it was such a contrast to my pissed off mood, most of this pissed-offness aimed at her.
    Lately she's been giving me hell about this whole Romeo and Juliet thing. But I just don't get why it's a classic, or relevant. I mean two teens in lust with each other are willing to die for the other after only knowing each other for two weeks? That's not romantic. That's mental.
    “This is one of the most important scenes in the play. Not only does it really get the tragic ball rolling, but it's also the most romantic.” she hugged the book to her chest and sighed deeply.
    Can someone shoot me please?
    “I mean, I would love if a guy loved me so much he was willing to admire me from afar just to feel close to me. Even if it is from the bushes in secret. I think it adds-”
    “That's not romantic, that's being a stalker,” I said the words before I had time to bite my tongue. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I was usually good at controlling my urges to blurt stuff, but I guess with my headache and tiredness, I guess I just, didn't feel like it today. Oh well.
    “Excuse me, Ms. Lawrence?” she said in a tone that said 'I am not pleased Missy.' Great. Now she's going to turn into that teacher tyrant that I can't stand. Like everything else about her. She stalked over to me. I kept my head down so I didn't have to look at her. “I would appreciate it if you didn't disrupt my class.”
    “Sorry,” I said in a way that said I could care less. I didn't have to try hard.
Ms. Campbell took a deep breath. “Ms. Lawrence, see me after class.”
I snapped my head up to see her backside walking away from me, shaking my vibrant red-orange, short, wavy hair around my face and neck. “Why? You can't punish me for expressing an opinion.” I practically yelled at her. But she went back to reading, as if I hadn't said anything. This is the tyrant teacher mode I was talking about. The same one that made me want to go rapid fire on her a*s. Well, since I'm definitely not about to listen to this lady for the rest of the period, I decided to doodle, until I heard the bell ring. By now I hoped she had forgotten about my earlier commentary, but no such luck (luck was never really on my side) and she motioned me to come here with her finger. I walked slowly, hoping to buy time, as my blue and black plaid skirt swayed around my hips and thighs. Since this was a boarding school (that I'm too lazy to remember the name of) we had to wear uniforms. Not that I was complaining.
    Nothing ever happens in Montana, meaning there wasn't much to pay for, so most of this money went to the schools, which for us, meant uniforms that were actually fashionable.
    “Miss Lawrence, I am not happy.” she said as I got to the front of her desk.
    “Really?” I said in the most sarcastic way possible.
    “Miss Lawrence, this is not a game. What in your mind told you to disrupt my class?”
    “The tooth fairy said if I did it, I get a dollar.” Okay, I knew this wouldn't help anything, but if I'm going to get in trouble, might as well have fun with it, right?
    “Miss Lawrence! I don't think you understand the situation here. You are close to failing!” She reached into her desk draw and pulled out a file. When she opened it, there were a bunch of papers with red marks all over them. My papers. Oh geez. “Most of these answers are wrong.” she said as she held the paper up to me. I examined it closely.
    “That's because most of these questions are based around opinion,” I shot back as I snatched the paper from her. “Look at this one,” I said as I pointed to question number four. “Why do you think Benvolio was hesitant to leave Romeo by himself? This is an opinion question and as long as your answer is logical and appropriate, you can't mark it wrong,” I could feel my self getting angrier and angrier “Face it!” I yelled as I threw the paper in her face, “The only reason I'm close to failing is because my opinion of this is different than yours!” I let out a long breath. That felt really, really good.
    Ms. Campbell's face didn't change. She didn't speak for about a full minute either. When she did speak though, I really wished she kept quiet. “I'll tell you what. In order to help you grasp the romantic aspect of the story, I'll pair you up Mr. Stevens over there for the project. You know, that one you were too busy doodling to listen to me explain.”
    Mr. Stevens? Can't you just say Noah like a normal teacher? I thought as I turned to see him. He was still sitting in his desk, apparently engrossed in Romeo and Juliet, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone else had left. It was either that or he was eavesdropping. His hair was in a choppy emo style, that fell to the middle of his neck, like mine, and reminded me of Andy Sixx's, and was falling in his face. He wore his uniform loosely and baggy, kind of nonchalant, with a leather jacket over it (another think I liked; you could accessorize).
    He was kind of a loner like me, but I chose to be. He only had one friend, which was that Wesley kid who looked like he was twelve, even though all three of us were juniors. Maybe he skipped a couple grades? He is supposed to be some kind of genius or something.
    Anyway, Noah was a bit of a weirdo. I heard whenever he was bored in his classes, he would pretend his mechanical pencils were needles, which is more than a bit disturbing. He looked up at me, revealing guy-liner and a lip ring. He chuckled at me, making me feel uneasy.
I averted my eyes back to Ms. Campbell. “Oh, hell no.”
    “Language, Miss Lawrence.” she scolded me. “And if you don't, I will fail you.”
I slammed my fist down on her desk, not caring what I broke. “You can't fail me just because I interpret something differently!”
    “I can and I will.” Great. She's back to tyrant mode. At this point I knew there was no trying to argue with her, but this was cruel and unusual. Not to mention completely unfair. She picked up her things and sauntered out of the room, leaving me alone with Noah.
    “Well, that was intense.” he said breaking the awkward silence. It was clear he was trying to lighten the mood, but it only made me more pissed.
    “Can you not?” I asked him. It was bad enough I had to work with this creeper, I would appreciate if he left me alone right now.
    “No,” he said matter-of-factually, adding a cocky smile. Okay I'm leaving. He had barely said five words to me, and I had already had enough of his emoness. Man, I was really not in a good mood today. Before I could get out the door, he blocked me. I was this close to punching him. No really, I cocked back and everything, but luckily, I managed to stop myself.
    “Mind telling me what I said, that got you so mad?” he asked me. Seeing him up close, he was actually kind of cute, if you were into that whole, dark, mysterious kind of thing.
    “Well, I have a killer headache due to being so sleep deprived because I'm so busy trying to keep up in this class, Ms. Campbell is chewing on my nerves, and if I don't work with you on this project I know nothing about, I fail. So I don't need you provoking me.” I knew he wasn't trying to provoke me necessarily, but that's what it felt like everyone else was doing, so I just went with it.
    “Well, I'm sorry.” he said in a soft, low voice. His deep blue eyes looked like he was genuinely sorry, but I wasn't sure if he was bullshitting or not. For the sake of both our beings, I chose to believe him. I also relaxed myself a little
    “Okay, fine, your forgiven. But let me out or we're both going to be late for our next class.” I said in a softer tone. He dropped his arm and moved out of the way, and I walked into the carpeted hallway, and into the Mathematics wing.
    “Bye,” he called after me. I carelessly waved back.
Well that was awkward and uncomfortable. I had never actually talked to him before, and I never had a desire to. I still don't, but now that I had to, I guess there's no point in making both of us bitter. I'll be nice. But just until this project is over.
    And then I got that cold chill. The chill I always got whenever something was around that shouldn't have been. The chill that made its way up my spine and made me shiver involuntarily, and crept it's way through my arms and legs, and the rest of my body, causing me to almost go completely stiff. This could only mean one thing. Desmond was near.
    Ever since I was about four, I could sense otherworldly things. Whether it be ghosts, poltergeists, or whatever, but I could never specify what. When I was younger, they used to terrify me, even though they never actually hurt me, or even directly made contact with me for that matter. I've grown used to them, though.
    But since I came here, this guy Desmond has always given me that same cold chill. He was kind of the school tough guy, and acted like he owned this place. He had a nice build, and his hair was cropped short with a square jaw, almost too perfect. Not that I cared. I preferred imperfections on a person anyway. What he was I wasn't sure. I almost don't think I want to know. Just knowing he's not human, but appears human is enough for me to know to stay away from him. And that's exactly what I did. I turned right around and went the long way, not caring about how late I knew I was going to be.


© 2011 Goliath


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Added on April 22, 2011
Last Updated on April 22, 2011


Author

Goliath
Goliath

Coatesville, PA



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rock face .. wierd .. loko ... loves .. uh PIE!!! more..

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