Chapter 7 (post three)

Pre-note: Here's the last part of chapter seven, or by my books, chapter six. It's good that I'm only up to chapter seven/six, as I have written nothing for New Wings in weeks. I have been writing, but only stressful assignments for Creative Writing. Each one I love, then the teacher makes some comment on how to improve it, then I feel shot down and I am uninspired to fix anything. I know she doesn't mean it that way, and I really should be taking her advice, but after I go through the stress of writing a piece in a week, especially one I actually like, I am not very good with criticism. 

Anyways! Here's the next section >.<

PS -- Thank you, again, Gremikin, and I will have to Facebook Dristy about that lol!

Chapter seven, post three:

The room looked empty and skeletal. There was a bed, dresser, wardrobe, desk, side table, and spaces where another one of each item once stood on the other side of the room. Each object was built simply; matching in modern, generic style and dark wood material.

Jake stood in the doorway as I stepped into my new home.

“How do you like it?” he asked, “I got you a room all to yourself, so hopefully it’s more comfortable for you to settle into.”

“It’s.... simple.” I said, running my hand over the blankets, the same blue as throughout the school and repeated on these walls, and calming my beating heart.

 “It’s nice,” I said truthfully. The colour was brighter than the sterile white back in the hospital. “I like it.”

“I’m –” Jake was cut off as a man in a janitor’s uniform arrived with my three suitcases and backpack from the car. He was there, and then he was gone, silent as a mouse. Jake continued, “I’m going to give your papers to the office. I’ll be back in ten minutes, feel free to explore but don’t get lost.” He smiled, and then disappeared out the door.

I unpacked all the clothes from the suitcases, placing them in neat piles in the dresser drawers. The dresses and school skirts I hung in the little wardrobe in the corner of the room. Next, I lined up all the school supplies along the desk. I found an outlet for my desk lamp and alarm clock, placing them on their appropriate tables. My new, shiny laptop I carefully laid on my desk. I took the suitcases and stuck them under the bed for storage, so you could see the pretty yellow colour peeking out into the room.

Then, I sat on my bed. The emptiness on the left side of the room bothered me; ghost items stared at my furniture. The room reminded me of the loneliness that had replaced my old life. Sick of the empty space, I jumped up. I managed to push my bed into the middle of the room. Looking around, I decided the wall where the second bed used to be would be perfect to put my headboard against. Satisfied with its position, I moved the side table beside it, then ignored my sore arms and reposition the desk and dresser to best use the rest of the space.  I was panting but happy by the time Jake returned.

“Sorry I took – oh!” He looked at around at the room. “This looks great!”

“Thanks.”

His grin was huge and proud, as though I’d past a test rather than managed to move furniture. “I was talking to the principle. They’re really happy to have you. I also found out that they don’t supply bathroom products.”

He looked at my puzzled face. “You didn’t look around, did you?”

“No, I was moving things. I thought you said there weren’t bathrooms here.”

He walked over to the corner of the room to a door I had assumed was a closet. He opened it to show me a bathroom, white and blue, missing a toilet but complete with a Jacuzzi bathtub, sink and walk-in shower.

“Oh!” I gasped. I had never even been in a Jacuzzi bathtub before; I’d only seen them in other people’s houses.

“We have bathrooms here. They’re used for washing.”

“Wow...”

“The janitor is coming by with some shampoo and soap for you to use for now, while I go out and buy some nicer things.”

“I actually can’t wait.”

Jake laughed. “Well, I guess I’ll go shopping now. I’ll be by tomorrow, to drop off the stuff and to see how you’re doing. I think you’ve missed dinner now, so you may have to just wait until morning if you wanted something. The lights have to be out by ten, but it’s only eight, so you have tons of time to have a bath before then.”

Jake showed me how to lock the door from the inside or outside, as well as how to use the card I’d seen earlier or password to unlock the hotel-like lock. Then, he left, just as the janitor returned with a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of conditioner, a bar of soap, a washcloth and some towels.

I had a blast playing with all the different settings and jets in the tub, although the wings attached to my back freaked me out a little, and before I knew it, it was lights out. I fell asleep without tossing and turning only because I was warmed by the blankets on my cold skin.

Chapter 7 (post two)

Pre-note: I am posting during my philosophy lecture, so I shouldn't ramble on and on here! But please remember that I love comments and that this is only a first, rough draft :) 

Chapter seven (or six by my version), section two:

As I followed Jake through the school again, I glanced in the windows of classrooms. They were filled with girls in matching black and white uniforms, bent over blue and black notebooks. Every time I thought I was going to be one of them, I grew more nervous.

The school grounds were larger than they appeared. We stepped out of the back of the school; it was the head of a cluster of modern buildings in a rectangle around a garden. We followed winding paths across the grounds until we reached large building with the word “Residence” printed on a sign next to the double doors. Jake asked for my student card and waved it over a little silver box by the door, to which the doors responded to by opening up for us. I followed Jake through the doors, hoping he knew where he was going, to which room and by sending me here.

He took me on a tour of the residence building. Mostly it was halls of doors leading to residences, but on each floor there was a common room with a TV and comfy couches. The walls were all light blue, which gave the halls a homey feel. Even the elevator seemed clean and new while still feeling warm with wood panels. When we reached the sixth floor, I began to worry. I remembered my room was 67B, which probably meant it was the seventh door on the left on the sixth floor, if I understood the system correctly from my tour. Before he showed me my room, though, he took me all the way down the down the hall. At the end of the corridor was a steel door with a glowing “Exit” above it. He led me through to a gray cement staircase, obviously not often used. However, there was a door opposite of the one we’d come in by as well.

“I just wanted to see something,” Jake said. He used my student card to unlock the door, and I followed him through it.

We walked out onto a roof.

The space was large, although it was probably half the size of the residence building. The ground was made of simple cement that was fairly clean but obviously not used, for it was completely empty. The only objects were a bunch of furnace things over in the one corner and a fire escape staircase leading down the back of the building.

There were cement walls high enough so we couldn’t simply walk off, but when I peered over the edge I could see we were very high up. It was the view that was the best part, though. You could look down onto the suburbs of the surrounding areas and watch people in their own backyards, or you could see the garden of the school and the buildings circled around it.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Jake said.

“How did you know about it?” I asked, joining him to look over the school grounds.

“I was looking over your residence map, as I’ve never been here either but I wanted to give you a tour.” He said, “Then I saw these random doors and noticed they were marked green, meaning your access card would allow you to go out them. We’re now standing right on top of the library.”

“The view is amazing,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m surprised that more kids haven’t found this spot and used it.”

“I’m sure most don’t use the stairs, though,” I pointed out.

Just then bells rang to signal the end of classes. Students soon came streaming out the school building, spreading themselves thinly across the lawn and soon disappearing into the other buildings.

We watched for a moment, and then Jake started to point out buildings.

“That’s the gym, directly across from us. Next to it is the cafeteria, which is slightly ironic. Then the school is obviously all the way over to our right. The field is all the way to our left.”

“It’s neat that it’s all centered around a garden.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure all the schools are like this.”

“You said there were four schools in this city?”

“There are four high schools for each gender. There’s the North, East, West and South. All are boarding schools, as it makes it easier for the parents who are working.”

“That’s interesting.”

“The building across the street from this school is actually the boy’s West End high school.”

“Really? Right across from one another?”

“Yep. They sometimes have co-ed events, like fundraisers and things.”

“That’s really cool.”

We watched the people for a while. A lot of them stayed outside or went into the residence or gym building. I started to notice that most students went right to the residence first, changed of their uniform and into normal clothes. Some changed into sweatpants and basketball shorts, all in the school colours, and headed over to the gym. After some time a group of students in blue short-shorts appeared on the field and began a game of soccer.

“That’s the soccer team,” Jake said, “This school’s team has won every trophy for a very long time. You play?”

“Ha! No, I was never coordinated enough for most sports!” I replied.

“That’s ok. They have tons of clubs and things.”

“I noticed that art and gym aren’t courses I’m taking, does that still mean that I can join the art club or the soccer team?”

“All students take the same classes, including you, throughout high school. The clubs are a way you can do other things.”

“Oh. Ok. I guess I’ll do lots of clubs then.”

“That’s good! Well, I guess we should head to your dorm, should we?”

Chapter 7 (post one)

Pre-note: Before reading this section, please note that I just cut a huge section out of it. I think it still flows ok, but it may need more work. And to report, I have a very rough start on my flash fiction, although it is terribly cheesy and underdeveloped at the moment! At least it's something, though. Gremikin: Thanks again for the helpful info! And you have been too busy with art to write, which is totally understandable, so don't be hard on yourself! Anyways, thanks to everyone who read this :)

Chapter seven (or the new Chapter six in my updated version), section one:

Jake arrived the next day, at one in the afternoon.

I was buzzing with excitement, more over seeing him again than anything. I already packed all my new belongings into the suitcases, and was sitting, dressed and ready to leave, when he walked into my room.

“Jake!”

“New Wings,” he responded with a smile, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” I replied, standing up and fixing my skirt.

“You all packed?”

“Yep!” I said, motioning to the bags by the door.

“Great.” He picked them all up before I could even try to help, and when I attempted to take a bag from him, he shooed me away.

“I have my car waiting,” he said.

He packed my bags into his trunk and then we were on our way again, past all the shiny buildings to the suburbs with perfect houses.

We didn’t talk much. When I asked where he’d been the past couple of days, he said he was busy and quickly changed the subject to the weather.

I sat thinking about what I had learned last night. I wanted so badly to just say, “Jake, have you read my folder?” but that would’ve completely given away what I’d done. Although no one had ever come right out and said, “No sneaking into nurses' filing rooms,” I assumed what was behind locked doors was off limits. They would never even know I was there, since I had left no evidence and had placed the nurse’s keys on the floor by the desk. It would all look like a simple mix-up today when the janitor discovered his keys were missing and the nurse noticed the keys she had weren’t hers.

We pulled up in front of the long dark building. Leaving my bags in the car, we went through the school to the office, where a lady greeted me. She gave a box containing my uniform to Jake, and then pointed towards a door behind her, speaking to him.

 I didn’t hear a word.

My heart was pounding a million times a second. My stomach twisted in knots.

We were lead into the room by the secretary, where she announced to an older man who we were. He stood up and shook Jake’s hand as I read the sign on his desk, “Mr. Nowasad, Principle.”

He then turned to me, reaching out his hand, and said, “Nice to meet you.”

I had no choice but to take his hand in mine. His grip was firm.

“Please sit.” He asked, so we did.

The laptop on his desk was black, shiny, and made loud clicking noises as he tapped at the key board.

“I see you come from the hospital, right from the New Wings department. How was that?”

“Good,” I responded. His eyes were piercing blue.

“Well, we best go over the rules.” He handed me an envelope of papers, some of which I recognized, as I had gotten them at my last visit. “One of those is your timetable. Each day is the same; you attend all your classes, are punctual and prepared for each, and behave in a respectable manner. Lunch you must remain on the school property, but you may go where you want on it. We have a wonderful library as well as cafeteria. You are vegetarian?”

“Yes,” I said.

“We always have vegetarian options, so there is no need to worry about that. After school you must also remain on school property unless you have permission from your guardian, who Jake will be acting as, to go elsewhere. You must be back in the residence building by nine pm if you leave and lights must be off by ten every weekday. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As for weekends, you are allowed off school property. Many students go home for the weekend, but some stay. You may go where you like on weekends, but if you stay here, you must be back in residence by ten. The lights go out at eleven on Saturday and Friday nights. You will be visiting Jake, I assume?”

“Yes, she will,” Jake said before I opened my mouth.

“Then you will have lots to do on weekends. Our school offers many clubs and events for our students to get involved in. They are mostly after school on weekdays, but some events are held on weekends. I’m pretty sure I gave you a sheet outlining them all and their times?”

“Yes,” I said, finding the paper in the envelope.

“Well you know what you want to do, just go to the meeting. They will have a sheet for you to sign up on there.”

He read something on his screen, and then looked at Jake, “Do you have her transfer file?”

I wondered if this was the same file I read last night as Jake said, “Oh, I must have left it in the car.”

“That’s fine; just give them to me at some point today. Do you have your student card in that envelope I gave you?” He asked me.

I found a credit card like card with the name of the school, my name, my student number, grade and the year printed on it. It was simple, blue and white, with a blank white box where a picture was supposed to be. A chip and swipe line were on the other side.

“You can take that to the secretary and she can take your photo for that now. I have to have Jake sign some papers. He’ll be out in a few minutes.”

I thanked him and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

A few minutes turned out to be one and a half hours. The secretary took my picture and printed it onto the card within half an hour, so I spent a long time going through my envelope while sitting in the reception area. I memorized my room number, as well as all my classrooms, teachers and courses. I had just gotten my student number down when Jake finally returned from the principal’s office, carrying the box that contained my uniform.

“On we go,” he said.

Chapter 6 (post six)

Pre-note: This section is really, really short! I have been so stressed and busy lately that I haven't worked on this story in quite a while, and I feel really uninspired! I have to write a flash-fiction piece for Wednesday that I haven't even started yet, too, and that's where all my time's going to end up going! If I even think of anything to write about, which I haven't yet >.< Yes, Gremikin, I will try that listening to music thing, hopefully that helps, but I don't know when. I hate flash fiction or else I would have already started brainstorming (but I don't hate it as much as poetry, which I despise, and which I am also being forced to write!). I just really hope I become a better writer because of this, and maybe better at time management as well. 

Oh, right, here's the next section (I would apologize for my ramblings, but since Gremikin is the only on who reads this, and I think she understands, I'm not going to. [Yes, not even my own mother has bothered to click on the link I post to her wall!]):

Chapter six, section six:

I guess I started to become more conscious of my crush on Jake at around that time. However, it was an advantage, since because of it I was looking forward to seeing him the next day, even if he were taking me to my first day of school. In other ways, though, it was a distraction that kept my thoughts from wandering too far.

When I snuck all the sheets back, tucked them filed under “M,” tiptoed to my room and crawled into my bed, all I was thinking was, “What does Jake know?”

Chapter 6 (post five)

Pre-note: So I edited my story a bit last week, but ended up changing the chapters. So I will try to keep posting in a logical fashion, but it's going to be really confusing for me now! :S Anyways, this is the next section of the chapter. I think it needs work but have been too busy and lazy to change it, so this is how it's going to be posted. lol. PS -- Thanks Gremikin for all your great comments :)

Chapter six, section five:

The floor was freezing at night; when there wasn’t sunlight streaming in the huge windows to warm it even a little. It was my last night in the hospital, my last night before I was sent off to school, and my last night in a place with a folder about me just down the hall. Maybe they’d transfer it to my school, but I highly doubted it, so I told myself it was my last chance again and again as I snuck down the hall.

Once I’d grown bored of the West End Secondary School’s website, I’d devised a new plan. At night, there was only the occasional janitor who passed down the halls, so I knew getting caught would be easy to avoid, but I had a much harder time figuring out how to get the keys. I’d figured it out when a janitor was walking down the hall, his keys sitting on top of the rim of a plastic bin full of garbage bags. I snatched the keys when he was emptying something, but was disappointed to find that it didn’t hold the gold key to that door I needed behind. Instead, I ended up switching the janitor’s keys with the head nurses keys. It was easy, as all the staff kept their keys on the same hospital-logo keychain.

I needed to know what was written down about me. I knew that they knew my size and that I was vegetarian, but what else did they know? What enticed me even more, though, was the fact it was labelled “McCalden, Annika” instead of “New Wings” or my new wings number (687 453 899)? The fact was I had been the only person to say my name since I arrived here.

It was late, even without a clock I knew it. I had packed the keys a sock so they wouldn’t jingle as I suck down the hall. When I got to the door, the only gold key fit perfectly. I found the light switch, the room was revealed to be skinny and long, lined on each side with filing cabinets. I closed the door silently behind me and entered what I deemed The Room of Names. Each filing cabinet held folders labelled with names upon names upon names. They were ordered alphabetically by last name, and I quickly scanned the filing cabinets. M for McCalden, A for Annika.

The file was piled high with papers. I sat down on the floor and began to lay them all out in front of me. There were a lot of hospital papers, but there were also a lot more. I found a photocopy of my health card, my birth certificate, my class pictures, forms and hand-written notes. Emails were printed out, letters were folded neatly.

I skimmed through the hospital and health files first. They had everything, health records from the day I was born to this day. I skipped the ones from when I was alive and began to read the ones from this hospital. They described drugs, tests and a surgery. I guess I arrived in Heaven the broken bloody mess that I was on the ground below the window on earth, a whole two weeks before I even woke up. They gave me drugs, set my bones, sewed me up and fixed my insides. Then they put me on bed-rest, which apparently I needed, as I slept for nearly two weeks. They had the results of all those basic skill tests they had me do those first couple days I was awake too, all perfect and with notes such as, “Keen, intellectual, able to focus and perform tasks.”

The pages afterward were jumbled, perhaps disorganized by the nurse who dropped them on the floor earlier that day. There was a whole page devoted only to my physical appearance, which included the location of my birth mark as well as all my measurements, explaining the perfectly fitting clothing that first day.

I found pages on my education. They had all my grades, teachers and schools from pre-kindergarten to the day I died on earth, but also odder things, such as my favourite class each year and my favourite project from each class.

My work history was short. Babysitting, a summer job cleaning, my volunteer hours for school earned at the local hospital.

There were pages devoted my family. There were write-ups on my parents, my siblings and even my pets and past-pets. There were notes on my feelings towards each one, as well, and similarities and other odd things. My pet hamster which I’d owned between the ages of four and eight got half a page. There was even a little picture of poor Fluffster.

There were a pile of papers of all the places I’d been, from simple school trips to the one vacation down to Cuba, as well as on all the different places I’d lived. The apartment I lived in with my parents until I was one, the little house my parents bought together and Noel was born in, the apartments my parents moved into when they divorced, the little house my mom bought, the larger house my mom bought, the city my dad moved to. My last house even included a page of pictures, one of which was my room. It had been messy that day, with clothes on the ground and a pile of homework on my desk. The picture I recognized as my little sister had taken the last week before school ended last year. I had been annoyed with Izzie, because she’d been running around the house taking pictures of random things as I tried to study for my Science exam. She’s gotten one of my empty room before I’d snatched the camera from her and told her to leave me alone.

The idea brought tears to my eyes, so I stuck those pages under some others and moved on.

A bunch of papers went on only about my friends, from the time I was only two. I found Kate, Diana and as I paused, Beth. I found pages on my personality, such as my favourite foods, my likes and dislikes, and even career quizzes I’d done. There were pages on everything about me, absolutely everything. My first period. My first crush. My first kiss. My virginity. As I read the last sheet, where my love life (or lack thereof) was printed, I paused. Had Jake seen this?

I should’ve seen the signs right then, I should’ve guessed something wasn’t right, but it hardly occurred to me. All I could think was, “How much has Jake read?”

Chapter 6 (post four)

Pre-note: Here's the next part of chapter six. This section is pretty long, so here it is:

Chapter six, section four:

The Sunday morning before I was meant to move into the residence of West End Secondary School, I snuck out of my hospital room. The nurses’ station was just down the hall, a semi-circle desk with a row of locked doors behind it.  There was only one nurse at the station, working steadily at a laptop computer on the rounded desk.

I moved quietly, with bare feet going numb on the cold tiled floor. When I got close, I bent down and looked for a hiding place that would give me a view of the computer. I spotted a little desk tucked in the corner, with a chair draped with a coat. Quiet as a mouse, I slid onto my hands and knees and crawled to my hiding place. I moved the chair slowly so it wouldn’t make noise and give me away, and tucked myself underneath the desk. The coat hung just long enough so that even if the nurse turned around, she wouldn’t see me.

I could see the computer screen, but the print was too small on the document to see what she was typing. It didn’t matter, though, as all I needed was to see the keyboard, which, thanks to the curve of the desk, I could.

I made myself comfortable in the small space, knowing the wait would be awhile.

The past few days had gone by so fast it was mostly a blur, but as I sat in a ball on the floor, I tried to recall it. The day I’d brought back all that stuff, I had been so excited. I still can’t recall the number of times I tried on my clothes and paraded down the hall for Jake and the nurses. One outfit I remember in particular was a dress, short, fitted at the top with a flirty skirt, which I paired with a pair of clunky heels in neutral tones. Although I’d paraded down the hall as usual, with the nurses commenting and Jake smiling, I saw Jake’s eyes scan me over, linger in all the wrong places and then dart away. I caught him checking me out, which I was sure the nurses wouldn’t approve of, but I smiled right at him anyways. He returned it, but in the same professional manner as before. Some of the other patients in the hospital had peaked their heads out of their rooms, too. They were mostly older people, with the only person even close to my age ten years younger than me. After I spotted the little boy, I’d asked Jake if all these people were New Wings like me, and he told me they were, but not to talk to them. This threw me aback, and when I asked why, he said they didn’t remember their past lives the way I did, so it was best to keep to small talk in case I said something wrong. I didn’t know how to respond, so I kept quiet.

I hardly had time to think about what Jake had said or what had happened that day before I was out cold. The next day I woke up late, after noon, to a note from Jake saying he wouldn’t be seeing me until Monday, and that he was sorry but something had come up. The nurses were really polite, providing me with company when they could. My favourite was Maggie, the nurse with the Australian accent. She talked my ear off, but she talked about fashion, so I loved it all. I learned that this world loves fashion, although it’s often very expensive. The mayor’s daughter was often on the edge of every trend, thanks to the power and influence of her father. Everyone wore what she wore, everyone changed when she changed. The second day passed quickly with Maggie, and I went to bed early again.

My third day she brought the Sunrise catalogue for the month, showing me what was “in.” I never thought of myself as much of a trend-setter or -follower back on earth, but I got caught up in the ripped jeans and ballet flats.  

Maggie had weekends off, so I was bored the day before my sneaking around nurses’ stations. To distract myself, I had tried to get internet on my laptop, but it was password-protected and the nurses wouldn’t give the password to me. I’d tried to guess the password all Saturday, but with no success. That Sunday I put into action the plan I’d come up with to see with my own eyes the password, for fun more than anything, as hospital room I’d been stuck in seemed to be growing smaller every minute.

Finally, the nurse got up from the station, carrying a folder to one of the locked doors. When she disappeared inside, I snuck to the laptop and logged off the internet connection. I’d just made it back under the desk in the corner when the nurse returned to the computer with a thicker folder. A few seconds later, when the internet browser informed her that she was logged off, she typed the password, which I caught easily. Happy with my successful sneaking, I decided to return to my white hospital room, but just as I placed my hand out of the cover of the coat, papers flew across the floor. I drew my hand back into cover as the nurse kneeled over and began to pick up the papers from the folder she’d knocked over. “Damn,” I heard her mumble, but I was silently thankful as the papers had all stayed over by her chair. However, what I saw next nearly caused me to cry out. Labelled clearly on the folder the nurse was now filling was “McCalden, Annika.”

Now I watched the papers she was placing in it, catching words such as “favourites,” “personal” and “family.”

The nurse organized it neatly, and then returned to the computer. I watch her in shock and curiosity until a few minutes later, when she picked the folder up and carried it into one of the locked rooms. I slipped out of my hiding place, noting the number of the door the nurse was filing my folder behind and the key she’d used to open it, before jogging back to the safety of my room.

I now had full access to the internet, but my mind was jumping all over the place so much I could already concentrate. When I finally did manage to focus and log onto the internet, I was disappointed to discover that the usual websites I’d checked when I was alive; Facebook, Hotmail, Blogger, Twitter; weren’t available here. Then again, as I thought about it, if I could update my Facebook status to, “Heaven’s interesting, I’m learning lots,” or send an email to my mom saying that I loved her and was fine, that I would freak them out and it wouldn’t make much sense. They would probably think it was some cruel joke, anyways, and not reply.

The only website that did work was the one that I found on the papers Jake had handed me a couple days ago. West End Secondary School’s website was bright, modern and all different shades of blue.  I learned about the clubs offered, the school population (1000), some of the favourite teachers and the typical school day. When I entered my student number, I found information on the uniforms that Jake had ordered and my timetable, but it was all the same information that I had printed out on the sheets of paper.

No matter what I read, though, my mind kept jumping back to that folder. What was in it? Is that how they seemed to know so much about me? Had Jake read it?

I knew I had to find out.

Chapter 6 (post three)

Pre-note: Hey, I haven't been posting in quite a while cause I've been so busy! And will continue to be now that school has started. I hope I can keep writing and posting, and will try hard to. 

This section is kind of random, and really needs editing. Please feel free to comment, here or on my FB link. Thanks so much :)

Chapter six, section three:

The stuff that piled in my hospital room left me in a happy daze. When the nurses came around, I would pull out outfits or my computer, practically glowing. They would laugh and compliment me, saying how lucky I was. Then they’d make me sit on the bed and do basic tests. They checked my eyes, my hearing and my motor skills. Each time I tested perfect, each time they reminded me that I’d be out of there soon.

I was to move into my dorm at my new school in exactly four days after that day I went shopping. The first night I forgot, the next day I remembered. Then the next night I remembered more.

The memories that had sprung on me that first day started to continue. Slowly, I remembered more.

I remembered school. I always hated first days, even if I’d already met the teacher and had my friends in my class. My stomach would twist knots at the idea of something new and at all different, something that I didn’t want to do. Some days I would complain about “not feeling well” but my parents always saw through it. Parents have a way of knowing the difference between the days when you are actually sick and the days you are “sick.”

The more I remembered, the more excited and anxious I became about going to this new school. The week passed quickly because if it.

From kindergarten to grade eight I had attended the same elementary school, even though during those years my sisters were born and my parents divorced. The school was an old one, built in the early 1900s, and although it had been updated through the years, it still carried the same name, Sebastian Collier Collegiate. The place was smaller than many other schools in the city, with a grand total of only about 400 kids. This is what made this school home, though. There were never more than two classes for each grade, so you got to know everyone. The teachers had all been there for years, some were even rumoured to have gone to the school as children when it first opened, or at least in the 50s. They carried similar smiles and knowing eyes, and could be kind one minute and strict the next. I had the same teacher two years in a row and the same art teacher the whole nine years. The secretaries knew everyone’s name, even calling me and my sisters “The McCalden Girls.” The school was my second home where everyone was family. When I entered high school, I truthfully missed my elementary school. At Middleton High the student population was almost 6000 and teachers came and went with the blink of an eye. There was not familiar feeling with this school; I’d never met half the students in my grade, I was still discovering parts of the school I’d never seen in my eleventh year and I never knew the name of the teachers I passed in the hallway. Even the school building itself lacked the warmth of the old bricks in the other one, this one having been built sometime in the 70s and spanning three stories and a whole city block.

I worried my new school would be like the high school I went on earth; stark and ironically empty. But I pushed these thoughts down, knowing that negative thoughts weren’t going to make any difference for the better.

Chapter 6 (post three)

Pre-note: Hey everyone (or anyone) who reads this. I have been working on my story lately, which is good, but I don't like a lot of it. I'm going to keep going, because, as a friend of mine would say, you can't edit a blank page, but I have decided that the story as a whole needs some major work. I would really appreciate feedback, even if it's just, "Wow, you've written a lot" or "I don't like..." 
Thanks so much :)

Chapter six, section three:

The stuff that piled in my hospital room left me in a happy daze. When the nurses came around, I would pull out outfits or my computer, practically glowing. They would laugh and compliment me, saying how lucky I was. Then they’d make me sit on the bed and do basic tests. They checked my eyes, my hearing and my motor skills. Each time I tested perfect, each time they reminded me that I’d be out of there soon.

I was to move into my dorm at my new school in exactly four days after that day I went shopping. The first night I forgot, the next day I remembered. Then the next night I remembered more.

The memories that had sprung on me that first day started to continue. Slowly, I remembered more.

I remembered school. I always hated first days, even if I’d already met the teacher and had my friends in my class. My stomach would twist knots at the idea of something new and at all different, something that I didn’t want to do. Some days I would complain about “not feeling well” but my parents always saw through it. Parents have a way of knowing the difference between the days when you are actually sick and the days you are “sick.”

The more I remembered, the more excited and anxious I became about going to this new school. The week passed quickly because if it.

From kindergarten to grade eight I had attended the same elementary school, even though during those years my sisters were born and my parents divorced. The school was an old one, built in the early 1900s, and although it had been updated through the years, it still carried the same name, Sebastian Collier Collegiate. The place was smaller than many other schools in the city, with a grand total of only about 400 kids. This is what made this school home, though. There were never more than two classes for each grade, so you got to know everyone. The teachers had all been there for years, some were even rumoured to have gone to the school as children when it first opened, or at least in the 50s. They carried similar smiles and knowing eyes, and could be kind one minute and strict the next. I had the same teacher two years in a row and the same art teacher the whole nine years. The secretaries knew everyone’s name, even calling me and my sisters “The McCalden Girls.” The school was my second home where everyone was family. When I entered high school, I truthfully missed my elementary school. At Middleton High the student population was almost 6000 and teachers came and went with the blink of an eye. There was not familiar feeling with this school; I’d never met half the students in my grade, I was still discovering parts of the school I’d never seen in my eleventh year and I never knew the name of the teachers I passed in the hallway. Even the school building itself lacked the warmth of the old bricks in the other one, this one having been built sometime in the 70s and spanning three stories and a whole city block.

I worried my new school would be like the high school I went on earth; stark and ironically empty. But I pushed these thoughts down, knowing that negative thoughts weren’t going to make any difference for the better.

Chapter 6 (post two)

Pre-note: This section is me trying to solve the problem of arriving in a place with absolutely no belongings. I think it's really cheesy, but I don't know how else to do it.

Also, I went to work on my story today, then my mom's friend came over with a tabby kitten, so I got nothing done. But it was SO CUTE! lmao. :D

PS -- please leave feedback! Thanks :)

Chapter six, section two:

I was surprised there weren’t large blue letters above the sliding doors spelling “Wal-Mart,” or people in blue smocks greeting us as we walked into the large department store, since it looked like we’d just walked into America’s largest chain store back on earth. The lights were the same florescent colour that gave you headaches if you shopped for too long, the tilling changed from 80s to 90s patterns as you walked through and the greeters at the door seemed to have their smiles painted on.

“This way,” Jake said, grabbing a cart from a pile up by the door and leading me through aisles.

They sold everything at this store, just like Wal-Mart, from food to electronics to clothes to toasters. Jake led me past pretty stainless steel refrigerators to an aisle labelled “Stationary.” There were rows of note books, paper, pens, pencils and every other school supply you could possibly need. Yet, as Jake announced, “Get everything you need and absolutely everything you want,” I realized I didn’t get much to pick from. There were only two brands that seemed to make everything in this section, and the difference between the two was noticeable. The one brand, called simply “Back to Basics,” made products that were less fancy, colourful or pricey as “Sunrise,” although even this company had limited products.

“Why are all the notebooks only red, blue, green, yellow or black?” I asked Jake as I picked up and compared products.

“Those are the school colours of each of the schools in Soleres, and black is just a basic of course. You should get blue notebooks, as a sign of school spirit. Oh, and get the Sunrise ones, they’re much better quality.”

I grabbed six blue notebooks and put them in the cart, then did the same for the rest of the school supplies I needed. If the product wasn’t offered in the school colours, it was offered in black, and I quickly found that back to school shopping here was not as fun or colourful as back on earth.

“You aren’t looking too impressed, New Wings,” Jake commented, “Come with me, this should cheer you up.”

I don’t know how Jake knew I was bored by the school supplies, nor how he knew that the next section would cheer me up as much as it did. The electronics section.

I had never owned a laptop before, and had desperately wanted one back on earth, but they had been so expensive I’d only drooled over my friend’s. Now Jake led me down the aisle with laptops, saying, “You need one for school. I was thinking a 15 inch? A Sunrise one, of course, with full features and a DVD player...” but I wasn’t listening. I’d already found it. It was white, the only white one in the row of black computers, a 15 inch with a whole list of features and a price tag that I could never afford on earth.

“This one?” I asked.

“Sure, that one looks good, pop it in the cart.” Jake replied. I was ecstatic as I found a boxed one on a shelf under the display and placed it in the plastic shopping cart.

 Jake laughed quietly at me as I bounced along behind him, agreeing to a shiny white MP3 player to match my laptop, a mouse, a bunch of programs, a phone, an alarm clock MP3 player, a laptop case and some old-fashion looking  suitcases to pack it all in. When we finally ended up at the cash register with a cart loaded with electronics, school supplies, basic clothes (he’d went to look at sports magazines as I picked out bras and underwear, and some cute outfits) as well as some other random items, it finally occurred to me that it would all add up.

“Um, Jake?” I asked.

“Uh huh?”

“Do you, like, have enough money for this?”

“Yeah, the government gives me money for you, for anything you need. All I have to do is use their credit card and it all gets paid for by them. Don’t worry about it, here I have you covered. I’m sure they’ll even be enough left over for some allowance each weekend.”

“Oh my god!” I almost screamed. It was like a dream come true, a shopping spree where money didn’t matter. I wrapped my arms spontaneously around Jake. “Thanks so much!”