Post by Cassandra "Melody" Milton on Oct 24, 2006 17:53:13 GMT
A lot can happen in two months. People change their hairstyles, often even colour, they buy new clothes, new bags and new identities; hoping for a fresh start as they ascend those dull, greying steps leading to Kingsbrooke Academy.
Two months had passed since Melody had last stood in front of the cold, harsh, walls of the building, but on the outside she didn't appear to have changed at all. She wore the same faded black converse that she had done for the past 18 months, as her growth hormones (Somatotropin) seemed to be on a permanent hiatus. Her hair was still its usual mocha coloured self, shining in the faint morning sunlight that had for once graced Carsontela with its presence. She wore faded black jeans and a plane black vest top, almost completely hidden under a dark bottle green jacket. A green and grey scarf was thrown oh-so-casually round her neck, as much to keep out the early morning chill as it was a fashion statement.
Perhaps, the only visible change was that she wore no make-up. Off course, Melody had never exactly plastered herself in the stuff, but she had been addicted to eyeliner for much of last year. To a new student, this probably wouldn't mean much, and I doubt many of the old students would of paid much attention either, had it not been for a certain angelic student who had always had a thing against make-up, refusing, even on stage, to let anyone put cosmetics on her delicate, English rose, face.
Maybe it was a sign of remembrance, maybe of regret, but the only thing you could tell for sure that it simply wasn't there any more, and Melody's impassive expression wasn't giving anything away as she cast her gaze over the building before her.
She glanced down at the silver charm bracelet come watch round her wrist. It had been brought for her as a back-to-school present by her parents, who were becoming increasingly worried about their only daughter and half-hoped presents might bring her out of the seclusion she had cocooned herself in.
7:45. There was still a good 25 minutes until the first bell went, so Melody climber the steps and lowered herself onto the top most one. Letting out a small sigh, she took an MP3 Player out of her bag and put the speakers in her ears, loosing herself in a familiar Pink Floyd classic.
Two months had passed since Melody had last stood in front of the cold, harsh, walls of the building, but on the outside she didn't appear to have changed at all. She wore the same faded black converse that she had done for the past 18 months, as her growth hormones (Somatotropin) seemed to be on a permanent hiatus. Her hair was still its usual mocha coloured self, shining in the faint morning sunlight that had for once graced Carsontela with its presence. She wore faded black jeans and a plane black vest top, almost completely hidden under a dark bottle green jacket. A green and grey scarf was thrown oh-so-casually round her neck, as much to keep out the early morning chill as it was a fashion statement.
Perhaps, the only visible change was that she wore no make-up. Off course, Melody had never exactly plastered herself in the stuff, but she had been addicted to eyeliner for much of last year. To a new student, this probably wouldn't mean much, and I doubt many of the old students would of paid much attention either, had it not been for a certain angelic student who had always had a thing against make-up, refusing, even on stage, to let anyone put cosmetics on her delicate, English rose, face.
Maybe it was a sign of remembrance, maybe of regret, but the only thing you could tell for sure that it simply wasn't there any more, and Melody's impassive expression wasn't giving anything away as she cast her gaze over the building before her.
She glanced down at the silver charm bracelet come watch round her wrist. It had been brought for her as a back-to-school present by her parents, who were becoming increasingly worried about their only daughter and half-hoped presents might bring her out of the seclusion she had cocooned herself in.
7:45. There was still a good 25 minutes until the first bell went, so Melody climber the steps and lowered herself onto the top most one. Letting out a small sigh, she took an MP3 Player out of her bag and put the speakers in her ears, loosing herself in a familiar Pink Floyd classic.
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
