7 May 2013

Novel Draft #1, Part #5

                            Emma – First Day

          “Aaaaaaa,” I yawned, stretching my arms and opening the balcony door to sniff in some of the morning air. If this won’t wake me up, nothing will… I walked over to the edge and looked down.
          “Eeeeeeemmmaaaaaaaa!!” an annoying call pierced my sleepy eardrums.
          Maybe I was too rash with that ‘nothing will wake me up’ thing… this definitely did the job. Man…And who on Ear- Oh. Victoria.
          “Gooooood mooooorniiiing Eeeemmmmaaaa!” she waved her arm in the air, looking very energetic and doing sit-ups while waving. This is too much. SHE is too much.
          “Ngh… Morning, Vic,” I sighed, mostly for myself, because Victoria had already run off to do some morning laps around the grounds. WAY too much. And I went back inside. It seemed safer that way. Yes. Safer.
          “Must… gah… get… aaaah… dressed,” I mumbled between yawns, trying to make my way to the dresser without bumping into too many things. OUCH! Damned chair, when did YOU get here?? … AH, blasted bedpost! OW, stupid dresser. Hey. The dresser. Hah, finally. And, extremely proud of myself, I started getting ready for my first day at Hawkshaw.
          This skirt is way too long… I can’t… I WON’T live with that, I thought bitterly, looking in the mirror. Now where did I put those damned scissors..?
          Ah, there we go, I smiled at my reflection in the wonderfully big and equally astonishing mirror. Looks better now. Except, maybe, for the loose strings hanging from the bottom edges. And I probably did a poor job cutting it straight, too. Alas, it was somewhat normal, and I was happy. So, with a feeling of victory in mind and with the high hopes that nobody would notice my hand-made-skirt-improvisation, I closed the door behind me and set out for my first day of ‘special’ school.
          “Gud mawrning, Mted,” I greeted the guardian between yawns. He was, apparently, very sleepy. I wonder if werewolves sleep during the day… Or maybe they don’t sleep at all. But if they don’t sleep at all, then why is Ted over there looking like he’s about to collapse and drool all over the floor? Hmm, should I venture out and ask Victoria about this? While I was unnecessarily pondering upon Ted’s sleeping habits, he mumbled a “Good morning, Miss,” and held the front door open for me. This is the first-impression day, Emma, so you’d better make it good.
One hour later…
          Oh no. Oh. NO. Where… Where… WHERE ON EARTH IS MY CLASSROOM??? My head almost imploded, as I was desperately trying to read the directions I was given at the front desk of the main building. Gah, too many damned buildings and too many floors and too many classrooms. I do believe the passing of this little enrollment test would be actually getting to your classroom, which is impossible. Impossible. Im-
          “Is anything amiss? You look a little lost,” a soft manly voice approached me, its owner giving me a short bow when he got close enough.
          “Yes, yes, everything is amiss!” I exploded, barely holding my tears of frustration in. “I can’t read this damned map, and I can’t, therefore, get to my classroom. And it’s my first day too.” Not to mention it’d be a bad first impression. Very bad.
          I eyed him with a raised eyebrow. Hah?
          “You are most amusing.” Oh, am I now? “You see… you’re holding the map the wrong way. Haven’t you wondered why the roof is at the bottom of the page? Hmm?” He now looked at me terribly entertained.
          “Well, no.” Not really.
          “In any case, this is where you have to go and this is how you get there,” he said, marking a red cross on the classroom drawing and tracing little arrows on the hallways. “Run along now, you’re late,” he smiled, returning the map to me. Is that blood he drew everything in? … Must be my imagination.
          “Uhm, thank you,” I shouted after him since he was already making his way to his own classroom. Or so I thought. He looked like an upperclassman, with messy red hair and green eyes. The strange thing about that guy was the fact that there was nothing strange about him. No pointy ears, no wings, no nothing. Interesting…Maybe he’s like me… no special abilities whatsoever… I sighed, and looked up at the door numbered 401. Well, I certainly got here fast enough. New classroom, here I come! And I opened the classroom door.
… Wh… what on-… Oh my.
          The incredibly large classroom was housing some of the strangest creatures I had ever seen in my entire life. What in God’s name is THAT? Looks like an ice-cube. WHY do we have an ice-cube in our class? I wonder if it talks. And I warily approached a free desk, desperately scanning the room in search for somewhat normal people. Okay, there’s a boy in the ice-cube. Phew. Might just be an ice Elemental… Oh, and there’s a girl with parrot wings.
Parrot wings?? That’s just wrong.
And there’s a little winged creature sitting on some books at a front-row desk. Is that a pixie? Oh my… it IS a pixie. I wonder if people happen to step on her from time to time… Especially that big fellow over there. He looks like he could easily squish ME into oblivion, let alone a 10 inch pixie. I was now right next to my desk of choice, preparing to sit down, when a loud voice that came right out of nowhere made me freeze in mid-action. I looked around the room, trying to locate the source.
          “That’s my desk!” the voice thundered.
          “Uhm, excuse me, but who -no. Where are you?”
          “Ahem, down here,” the voice tugged at the bottom of my skirt. “And why is your skirt shedding?”
          I looked down and saw…
          Oh my God, a dwarf!!!
          “Greetings, little one,” I made a small curtsy. “I did not know it was your desk,” I said, emphasizing the words and raising my voice a little. I wonder if he can hear me from way down there.
          “I’m not an idiot you know. I understand you even if you don`t shout,” the angry little man clenched his fists. “And please do step away from my desk. Your presence dirties it.”
          “Hey now-” I was planning on saying something really, really rude, but an oh-so-familiar voice interrupted me.
          “Our apologies, Craig, but Miss Sheffield is new here and didn’t know that that was your desk.”
          “Victoria!” I exclaimed in a surprisingly high-pitched tone, covering Craig’s mumbles. Oh no, we’re in the same class.
          “No, we’re not, I’m just here to check on you,” she winked at me and then suddenly sprung towards the door, since it had clicked open, and someone had entered. I’m in the same class as the carrot top from before? No way, I thought he would be at least one year older than me. And did Victoria just read my mind again?
          As Carrot Top was making his way through the desks and towards the front of the class, all of the students took their seats, leaving me standing and somewhat embarrassed.
          “Good morning, everybody,” Carrot Top said picking up a piece of chalk and starting to write something on the blackboard. “Some of you might know me from last year, but just in case I shall introduce myself. My name is,” and he lifted the chalk from the blackboard, allowing us to see his name written in perfect calligraphy. Dylan Shangrove? “Dylan Shangrove.” And why is an upperclassman writing his name on our blackb-
          “And I will be your fore master this year,” he concluded, causing my mouth to fly open with surprise. Impossible. Impossible. He couldn’t be a teacher.  I mean, he doesn’t look a day over eighteen. Imposs-
          “Ah, I see we have a new student this year,” he smiled, raising his eyes from a file on his desk. “I was wondering why you were still standing, Miss… Miss…” he was now scanning the papers for my name. “Yes, Miss… Sheffield, is it?”
“I do believe we have met earlier today, Miss Sheffield,” the professor furrowed his brow, obviously trying to remember. His countenance then expanded into a large, half-mocking smile, eyes glimmering with recollection. “You were the girl who was holding the guidance map upside down, right?” his smile exploded into shards of laughter. Apparently, that struck him as particularly funny. I, personally, didn`t find any humour in the whole situation. Neither did my cheeks, which turned into a violent shade of crimson, matching the professor’s hair. Oh come on, you didn’t even giggle when you saw me holding that damned map backwards. WHY is it so cosmically funny NOW??
          “Anyway,” he now wiped some tears from his green eyes, still shaking with laughter, “we must find you a seat.” Anywhere but next to the evil dwarf, please, please, please…
          “I believe there’s a free desk next to the window there,” he pointed towards a desk decently far away from Craig, the evil midget. I happily made my way towards the allotted space and took my seat. Just as Shangrove started to make attendance, the door flew open, making way for-
          “Ah, Master Hawkshaw, so kind of you to join us at last,” the professor mused. “Now do take your seat before I feel compelled to see to the problem myself,” he added on a very menacing tone. As soon as I heard the name ‘Hawkshaw’, my head snapped in the direction of the door and my jaw dropped a second time that morning. Why? Why?? Did I do something wrong, God? Did I? Have I wronged you in any way? I do NOT deserve this dammit!!!
          “Ah, but this is no proper way to welcome one’s students, Dylan,” Lucas smirked. And yawned. He smawned.
          “Ah, but this is no proper way of greeting one’s professor, Master Hawkshaw. It is either Professor Shangrove or detention. Make your choice.”
          “Well then,” Lucas crossed his arms, leaning against Craig’s desk and making the little fellow throw him a deadly glare. “Good morning, Professor Detention. How very strange of you to insist to be called so, though,” he smiled.
          “That’t it! Detention! Today! After school!” the professor shouted losing his calm, a stray vein twitching at his temples. Lucas didn’t reply; he just continued smiling at Shangrove, looking very pleased with himself.
          “When will it all end?” Shangrove sighed, massaging his forehead with one hand while leaning against his desk with the other. “In any case, detention or not, you must take a seat, Hawkshaw,” the professor raised his eyes to shoot Lucas a deadly glare. Man, this guy sure gets a lot of deadly glares per day. It amazes me that he’s still very much alive.
          “There’s an open spot next to Miss Sheffield. WHAT?? Please proceed and don’t-just don’t talk to me today,” Shangrove said while still massaging his forehead. “Understood?”
          Lucas nodded and made his way towards me, a wide smile spread across his face. Are you testing me, God? I let my head fall on my desk, unwilling to acknowledge Lucas’s presence. He isn’t here, I heard the chair screech on the floor. He isn’t here, I heard the chair move back into place. He isn’t here, I heard a hand tap on the desk next to mine, the tapping becoming gradually louder, matching the pulsating feeling in my head. The professor started talking about… well… something concerning grades and other professors and such, but I couldn’t follow him. All I could hear was that incredibly aggravating tap-tapping sound generated by the beast next to me. He isn’t he-
I am NOT hearing anything.
"Pssssst." Nope, it's all in my head.
"Uhm, Miss Sheffield? Is there a problem?" the professor turned around, his book hanging in mid-air. In mid-air... in MID-AIR?? So he DOES have special abilities after all. How very disappointing…
“Miss Sheffield?” Shangrove eyed me coolly. “Were you paying attention whatsoever?”
“Uhm… Yes, yes, of course I was,” I hastily replied, avoiding to turn my head towards my right, not even by a degree.
“Then please tell the class what we were discussing earlier.” The floating book snapped itself shut and landed on the professor’s desk with a thud. All eyes were averted towards me, and I felt blood rushing to my head, turning everything including my eyeballs in a deep shade of red. I heard muffled laughter coming from the oh-so-dreaded right side and mentally condemned Lucas to eternal torment.
“Psssst.” I barely turned my head around, fighting the compelling urge to shut my eyes. “The Book of Creatures,” Lucas whispered, his green eyes twinkling with amusement.
I decided to trust him on this one. God help me.
          “Of course, Professor. You were discussing The Book of Creatures, were you not?” I said, desperately hoping Lucas didn’t decide to have some more fun on my expense by telling me a wrong name. Shangrove looked terribly surprised for a moment. A rather long moment.
          “I don’t know how you pulled this off, Miss Sheffield, but do try not to space out in class again,” he finally managed to speak, making the book fly once again from the desk and open in mid-air. “Now, as I was saying, this book is of great importance to you and you are strongly advised to buy it, along with-” His voice slowly faded away again, as my thoughts became more and more confused. Did that jerk just… help… me? Oh great, just great, now you owe him one, Emma. I wonder if a ‘thank you’ is in order here…  I wonder how the Devil receives thank-you’s… Oh God, I hope he won’t hit me. I briefly glanced at him, trying to be as subtle as possible. I failed miserably, since he noticed my gaze and returned a raised eyebrow-smirk combo. Why, the cocky little bastard! I have to thank HIM? Forget it…
Well, maybe I’ll say a ‘Well, thanks’ after class. I mean it’s only the proper thing to do. 

No comments:

Post a Comment