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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Chris
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 | Lunar Nights, Part 1; Irregular |
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 4.64 with 11 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-01-10 14:31:37 |
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I lay my head down on the desk and sighed, my blonde hair fell over my face obscuring it from view. I was in classroom C101, the 101st room and it was in the Creativity block. It was also, the Head of Year’s classroom and the detention room. That’s why I was there, ‘detention’. What did I do wrong? Nothing, I had made my way to Science when I was shoved over. I tried to yell at them, but a teacher caught me and noted I was one of the “special cases” in the school, so she told me to come up here for some rest. Mr Dark, the head of year, practically greeted me like an old friend; I was up here so often. I didn’t have much free time, it didn’t matter though. I had one friend, no, one person that would actually talk to me for a reason other than to laugh at me. Mack, but we weren’t exactly friends; we just talk every so often. He doesn’t really have friends either, but for different reasons. I know he and I could probably be good friends, we both have some similar interests, and he’s invited me round his house many times, but I never went, always making excuses. I tucked into my sandwich, and drank some water. It was break, not lunch, but I was still pretty hungry. Looking around I took account of the rest of the room. There were four other people in there with me, two of them were boys that I didn’t know, one was Avery Yeoman; a boy whose head has in fact grown larger because of his ego, and a girl;
‘Imi? Imogen Todd?’ Said a gruff voice, it was Mr Dark. He had entered the room and was looking at her. Of course, I knew who she was; she was almost famous in the school. Imogen Todd, apparently she hates being called Imogen. She had entered in the middle of year 7, and she had been there since. From what I had heard she was never got caught in trouble, but when she did; it was usually for something pretty bad. She swears a lot, and is very confident. She was popular, but not in the same way. She had a lot of friends, and everyone knew who she was; throughout all years. But a lot of people disliked her, I assumed she was ‘nasty’ I guess, arrogant and rude; but what can you expect when I heard rumours of things she had done? When she answered, my perspective had changed.
‘Yes?’ She answered, smiling at Mr Dark politely. She seemed calm; I had assumed she was in trouble from the beginning. But the expression on her face was not as if she had received a punishment.
‘At lunchtime you may bring a friend up here if you wish, just don’t talk too loudly or to the students in detention.’ He said cheerily, smiling back at her plastered face. Imogen’s image changed more often than her socks; but everyone knows it’s her. By the way she talks, and smiles. I knew then that she definatly wasn’t in trouble. But before I could ponder the situation, the bell rang for ICT. I sighed again, lifted my head up off the desk and began to walk slowly out of the room, and down the stairs to collect my bag. I looked at my shoes as I walked, I was in no rush. I liked my current shoes, faded black and white converse, but I knew I should get some new ones soon.
I guess you could say I’m not like every other teenage boy, as much as I try. I’m still ignored, and isolated from the rest of the world. Girls don’t want to get to know me, if they like me, but mostly everyone just steers clear. To be honest, I’m used to it. I’ve been in five different schools so far, and they’ve all been the same to me. But unfortunately, I have to stay at this one. I didn’t like it all that much to be quite honest; it was too prestigious. I suppose I’m not all that ‘interesting’ but the fact is, I make myself boring, and I can’t be interesting. But I know I could be ‘popular’ if I tried, by entering sports teams, and showing off my talents. But I don’t want to, there is only one thing I have ever wanted to do, and that’s live. But that’s being taken away too.
While walking towards my ICT room, Imogen had caught up with me. However I only noticed this as she began walking alongside me.
‘What lesson you got?’ She said, without asking my name. But just as everyone knew the foul-mouth Imogen Todd, everyone knew that Chris Taylor was weird.
‘ICT.’ I mumbled in reply. She seemed to nod to herself, and before I could ask what she had, she already answered.
‘Cool, I’ve got English. I’ll walk with you.’ I mumbled ‘sure’ in reply, but I don’t think she was listening. In fact, she hadn’t looked at me once, I found this unnerving, wondering if I had bad breath, or had something disgusting on my face. My mind was whizzing trying to think of something cool to say, so she’d think I was funny or witty. However everything was a total blank. Suddenly I saw a flurry of movement behind her, using unnatural speed I pulled her out of the way, holding her close to my side as year seven boys ran passed, one of them shouting sorry over his shoulder. I looked at Imogen and her eyes were fixed on the ground, I tried smiling at her.
‘I didn’t want you to get hurt.’ I said, trying to sound foolish and kind, however the words sounded better in my head, and I definatly felt foolish, but not in the way I had intended. She just nodded and mumbled ‘thanks’ and we continued walking.
‘Why were you up in C101 anyway?’ She asked, her tone sharp, I felt hurt considering as I had just saved her from a nasty fall.
‘Oh uh… Some guy shoved me, and as I began to retaliate Mrs Brown sent me up here…’ I said, feeling stupider by the second.
‘I see.’ She said, thinking hard. I forced a smile, and tried to continue the conversation.
‘What about you?’ I asked, holding the fake smile in place; however her eyes were still fixed.
‘Oh uh…’ she began, like I did, ‘Punched a guy in the stomach.’ I saw a faint smile flicker on her face as she said this.
‘How come Mr Dark didn’t tell you off then?’ I asked, confused.
‘He knows I’ve got anger management.’ She snapped, and would say no more on the subject. We continued in silence for the rest of the way.
Eventually we went our separate ways, and I was partially glad, from our lack of conversation.
I typed my username and password into the high-tech computer, my fingers typing faster than any other student. I sat at the very edge of the room, away from everyone else. I wasn’t really included in the lessons; I suppose I just drifted through them. This lesson was different today though; there was a fire alarm half way through, a fire drill. I looked at the little clock tick to 11:15, and the bell rang for us. I logged off and stood up with every other student. I hadn’t done a fire alarm in this school before, but I knew what to do; every school has the same system. I walked slowly and casually towards the tennis courts, while everyone else walked fast and chatted with their friends animatedly. I took my place at the end of my tutor group’s line and sat in the chair that was set up. I looked at the people around me, just people to me. No-one I really knew, or understood. I looked to my left, and it was her, Imogen. She glanced at me, and smiled sweetly. The smile; when she did it, it would make you melt and she would make you feel like just by being there, you made her day. And it’s not a fake smile, she actually means it. I knew she did. I smiled back, and she turned around to face her line again. I tried to think of something witty and funny to say again, but my mind was a total blank. My heart began to hammer fast and I could barely breathe. I looked at her again, and it got faster and then I looked away and breathed in slowly. My heart began to slow down and go at my normal rate. I groaned softly to myself, knowing exactly what was wrong with my heart. I realised I groaned too loud, and Imogen had turned round and looked at me funny. I blushed, and then cursed loudly inside my head for blushing. I saw a smirk form on her face, the sort of smirk that says ‘you shouldn’t swear’. Yet she can’t know that I swore inside my head… Can she? |
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