Chapter 4: him, again
I closed the door of the car a little harder than I probably needed to. Mom gave me a short glare as I looked at my reflection in the window. I pulled my pristine afro back far enough to tie a bandana around the top of my head, hiding the undone edges. My mother barely gave me enough time to finish examining myself before she pulled away.
I turned and looked up at the big ornate front doors of the school and could already feel a sense of overwhelm. I was used to quiet mornings reading in my living room, and the scene in front of me was a stark contrast. Girls bustled all around me bumping into each other as they rush to class, shouting across the drive to each other and chatting about late assignments. I least I could relate there.
I wouldn’t have considered myself socially inept. In fact, I felt quite comfortable making peace with most people. However this demographic in particular, girls my age that is, I had a particularly difficult time relating to. And now there were about a hundred of them, all around me. I would much rather be in an adult workplace — adults just seemed far more sensible to me.
I took a cliche deep breath and pushed open the heavy front door of the all girls school: Platte Commons. Other students pushed passed me through the open door. I had previously been insecure about the idea that everyone would know that I was the new girl, but that quickly left my mind as I came to the realization of my invisibility. These girls didn’t seem like they would have noticed if I were an Alien walking amongst them. One insecurity disproven immediately, and it gave me a soft burst of confidence to embrace this new change.
The inside of the school was almost exactly how the old movies had made it seem, tiled floors, walls lined with lockers. However, there were a couple key differences. This school, Like all modern schools, had no boys. This was, again, the result of a decree from the Governor a few years ago. Movies also seemed to separate all of the cliques out into physical groups: Jocks, skaters, popular kids, and as far as I could see, girls here seemed to be freely walking around, talking to just about anybody they liked. That was, at least until a soft ticking began to echo through the halls as if a clock were counting down. The girls quickly scurried into single file lines along the walls. They all lined up very quickly as if they had choreographed this a thousand times. Then it occurred to me, they probably had. There was a gong and the girls began to walk quietly in there lines to the doors scattered down the hall, filing into classrooms. It must be time for class.
Just as I began to wonder where I should be going to, a sudden shift in the energy of the hall revealed itself. The color seemed to fade, the lights dimming. At the end of the long hall darkness began to take hold. And that’s when I saw him. But this was different. Yes it was the man from the corner of my room, moving shadow. But this was the first time I had seen him and I had full control of myself. Or did I? Was I frozen as in my room or was this just fear holding me?
I took a step back, wanting more than anything to turn and run, but in the same breath, I didn’t dare look away. He lifted his hand, took a long pull from his cigarette. It lit his face only enough to see how empty his eyes were, blackness. And then he moved. Suddenly and swiftly he began to take long fast strides toward me. This change was enough to free me from my fear. I quickly turned around and made a break for the door behind me. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t.
I slammed into the door, pulled at the handles. They didn’t budge. I didn’t dare look behind me, that would make this situation real. I yanked again at the door: nothing.
I could hear footsteps, growing louder behind me as I struggled.
And then… a tap at my shoulder.
I slowly turned to face my fear, still not a breath having left my body.
A large but kind looking man stood before me. He had a bald head and a soft salt and pepper beard. He was softly smiling and his green eyes seemed genuinely warm. His hand was outstretched. “Hello young lady, I’m Jan.”
“Hello,” I respond, my voice cracking. He had spoken with a kind voice. It was such a stark contrast to the scene I had just witnessed, that it caused me to pause, “I’m Isatou.”
“Well Isatou, I can see that you seem lost. First day?”
I nodded in response. I was embarrassed that my voice had cracked. The last thing I wanted to seem was timid.
“Well, I believe I am your assigned counselor, Ms. Isatou, So if you’ll follow me for a moment, I’m sure I can help you get situated.”
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