Post by Miyako "Thunder" Sirren on Oct 28, 2008 20:48:31 GMT -6
In a school in the far south of England, the weather was gloomy and the day was fairly dark. Thursday. The rain from the storm above pattered against the skylights and windows of the school. Though there was one girl outside, soaked to the core wearing a black jacket over a white shirt, head down with her soaking wet blonde hair falling over her closed eyes. And as the rain water mixed with tears dripped down her face to the ground a small smile came to the side of her lips. The Girls eyes opened, deep blue looking into the grey clouded skies. Yet she still smiled the cold rain in her hair and on her face.
Anything, even standing out in the freezing rain, was better than being within reach of some of the ‘other’ students. Students who thought of her as an object not a person. Under her black water-heavy coat she still bared the wounds from where they used her as an object, that was intended to break but was only damaged in the process. But no wound could show how she felt inside; no words that she could say to describe that pain. Torment and suffering, she never told anyone about it. As if anyone would listen to her or do anything even if she did.
As the night slowly drew in she looked to the grey skies as the rain lightened very slightly. She whispered to herself ”Okay Miyako, you can go home now and they will think you’ve already gone...” Miyako turned around. Then she walked back from the trees that edged the schools fields slowly through the school to the front gates. Backpack on her shoulder. Soaking wet from the rain but not in any way phased by it. She loved weather like this. But as Miyako approached the front gates the brunt of the storm was overhead. Thunder and lightning heard in the distance underlining the constant ring of raindrops all round her. She stopped at the gates for a moment brushing her fringe out of her face. Colossal mistake.
Anything, even standing out in the freezing rain, was better than being within reach of some of the ‘other’ students. Students who thought of her as an object not a person. Under her black water-heavy coat she still bared the wounds from where they used her as an object, that was intended to break but was only damaged in the process. But no wound could show how she felt inside; no words that she could say to describe that pain. Torment and suffering, she never told anyone about it. As if anyone would listen to her or do anything even if she did.
As the night slowly drew in she looked to the grey skies as the rain lightened very slightly. She whispered to herself ”Okay Miyako, you can go home now and they will think you’ve already gone...” Miyako turned around. Then she walked back from the trees that edged the schools fields slowly through the school to the front gates. Backpack on her shoulder. Soaking wet from the rain but not in any way phased by it. She loved weather like this. But as Miyako approached the front gates the brunt of the storm was overhead. Thunder and lightning heard in the distance underlining the constant ring of raindrops all round her. She stopped at the gates for a moment brushing her fringe out of her face. Colossal mistake.
