This is the first three pages of a story for Creative Writing - we're starting fiction now. PLEASE R&R!
The chalk made a horrendous, screeching noise as the teacher dragged it across the board, to spell out some meaningless question about the different types of audiences one could give a speech to. “Now,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he turned to the classroom and smiled, carefully replacing the white piece of chalk into the wire-mesh pencil holder on his desk. “Who knows the most aggressive type of audience?”
One hand shot up immediately – a rather familiar hand. The teacher nodded to this hand now, looking slightly disappointed. “Sky, what type of audience –“
“Opposed.” Sky interrupted him with the answer, a brief, terse response. He nodded, and turned to the chalkboard to continue writing, now explaining all the other types of audiences.
“Oi,” someone whispered, from somewhere behind Sky. She turned around, and a small wad of paper came flying at her. It hit her wide forehead, bouncing off onto the floor. Sky growled at the general vicinity of the classroom, unaware of the location of the paper-thrower. “Oi,” the whisper came again, from a large, blond boy with short hair and an exceptionally large nose, somewhere in the back. “How come you’re the only one who read the book?”
“Cause I have a brain,” Sky whispered back, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth in a crude face. She turned around to face the professor. Giggles came from the back of the room, and Sky turned around again. Now all the students in the back were gathered around the blond boy, as he was making strange faces, which Sky rather thought were supposed to be of her. She chucked her pencil at him, rousing a round of ‘Oooohh’s from the students, then turned back in her seat.
More giggles. Sky turned around, again, now grinding her teeth in frustration. The blond kid – she now recalled his name to be Erin or something of the like – was doodling something on a piece of paper, and several kids were snickering, occasionally glancing at her.
“Sky, turn around and face the front, please!” She stiffened, and then whirled in her sear to face the teacher, who looked severely annoyed at this point. Sky froze until he resumed writing, then got up and stalked to the back of the class.
“Hey, Sky, care to see my work of art?” Erin grinned at her, but before he could lift the paper up to show her, he received a fist in the face.
Erin tumbled back in his chair, falling out and hitting the floor with a loud thud. Sky grinned triumphantly, staring down at him. “Aw, hell,” he said getting up, “what the –“ he dodged another fist, then grabbed the next and twisted it around violently. Sky shrieked as her arm twisted around her – “Students, what in the…? Stop that now!” the teacher cried vainly, making his way down the aisle of desks – she kicked vainly behind him. One punch in the face, another in the groin, and a series of pummels from the both of them, then –
“All right, break it up, break the hell up!” Someone yanked Sky violently away from Erin’s grip, and shoved her into a seat. A security guard, a burly woman dressed in all green, clutched her wrist firmly, almost painfully. Her defender, a large black man dressed in a uniform similar to the security guard’s, had Erin by the shoulder. “What. The. Hell?” He glared at Erin, then at Sky. “Jesus. Just what I needed.” He yanked at Erin’s shoulder, then motioned to the other security guard, who pulled Sky to her feet and followed him. Sky stumbled across the classroom, tried to jerk her arm out of the guard’s tight grip, then gave up and followed obediently behind them. The pair were led down a flight of steps, a path, Sky recognized, that would take them to the Principal’s office.
Oh. The Principal’s office. Where she wasn’t supposed to go anymore, or she’d be grounded for life.
Whoops.
The black man rapped sharply on the glass pane, and waited until a calm voice replied, “Enter,” before clutching the copper doorknob and pushing it open slowly.
“Sir,” he said, leaning his head in, “We have some fighters.” The principal apparently nodded, because he pushed Erin in, then stood out of the way for the female guard to push Sky in.
“Oh, dear, Sky Malone. I’d rather hoped you’d stay out of my office for a while. It’s only been a week.” Sky looked up to see the familiar white comb-over, the familiar horn-rimmed glasses and deeply wrinkled face of the school principal, leaning against a mahogany desk and adjusting an engraved, marble plaque that read ‘Principal Beddor: Williams Academy’. “And Erin Hale, I thought you promised that you’d never be here this year.” He sighed deeply, laying the plaque down gently on his desk and sitting down in a plush chair. “Now, let’s see what happened.”
*****
“Sky! Sky, Sky, Sky, Sky, Sky, Sky, Skyskyskyskyskyskysky –“
Sky wrapped a towel around herself firmly, and crossed the pearly – and now soaked – bathroom tiles, pulling a very well-polished doorknob open to face a brown-haired, hazel-eyed, soft-skinned girl staring straight at her – in other words, essentially, Sky’s clone. “Renė Renė Renė Renė Renė Renė – Jeez, shut up, what do you want, you dumb broad?” René leaned back, looking offended.
“Mom wants to talk to you.”
“Great,” Sky said, eyes flashing angrily. “Well tell Mother that I need clothes and that obnoxious maid didn’t give me any!” René pointed lazily behind her to a tall canopy bed, fully occupied with several, neatly folded, tall piles of clothes. “Oh. Well, then – get out, I need to get dressed! So obnoxious, she muttered, as René scampered out of the room. Sky dried herself off haphazardly, chucking the towel on a desk chair for the maid to pick up later, and stalking to the pile of clothes, picking out a rather lacy pair of black undergarments, a tank top, and capris. These she pulled on violently. She then squeezed the excess water out of her hair, making a wet spot on the carpet floor, striding towards a white dresser and pulling a hair tie out of a drawer. She pulled her hair back, ignored the mirror, and slammed the door behind her as she left the room, to make her presence heard throughout the house.
Sky’s feet padded lightly on the staircase as she climbed down, peering over the rail at her mother, who seemed to be doodling something lazily on a freshly-washed tablecloth. Sky sucked the inside of her cheek, and climbed down the rest of the way.
“Mother?” she said stiffly, from the bottom of the staircase. Her mother jumped, then turned to look at Sky.
“Oh, Sky, there you are. I need to talk to you.” She put her pen down, then motioned for Sky to sit next to her. She did so obediently. “Do you want to tell me what happened today?”
“Not really,” Sky replied stiffly.
“I think you do,” her mother replied, uncharacteristically stern. “I think you do, because if you don’t, you’re going to start seeing a counselor, and neither I nor your father particularly feel like having to go through that, and I’m sure you don’t either. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Sky looked her mother in the eye – the same eyes as her own – and said, very firmly, “No.” Sky sucked the inside of her cheek even harder, then looked away from her mother’s hurt gaze.
“Fine.” Her mother looked away, and continued the doodling, almost instantly off in her own world. Sky stood up awkwardly for a few moments, opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something more, decided against it, and then left the room, leaving the door slightly open behind her.
She walked into her room, shut the door behind her very quietly, leaned against it, then crawled into her bed, pulling the covers back and burying her face in the pillow.
