I was dropped to school. It was a tremendous effort of mine, to get up ever so early on the first of september, and be trudged all the way to an enormous building that homes education.
Exerton High School was a huge, broad building. The famous, high elementary walls were creamed in alumina, solvent cement. There were around three windows to each classroom, every window had a round, venetian shape and was curtained with velvet. There were monolithic bricks that cement circulated, the porch was long and pillared, with shaded ionic grass making the place look beautifully lush. The door shouted out solicitation as it was heavy with a massive rear, its panelled glass elaborately shined for the occasion.
As I walked inside, my mother sweetly smiled and said goodbye, for this was the last time i would see her until the already awaited half term. I hung my coat on the huge, magnetic rack and took my enormous suitcase to the dormitory.
The monumental stairs helped me express my mourn. I had never wanted to go to this school, however famous or expensive it was. Why did life always switch around as soon as things had became great?
My room was a shared, comfortable bedroom with four vascular beds, a designer wardrobe with four compartments, an analytic couch, flamboyant dresser, gorgeous silken curtains, personal bookshelves, and an editorial, rosewood desk.
My Dorm-mates were three other girls.
There was Alyssa, a sweet thirteen-year-old with rosy cheeks, she was charming and brightly coloured. Her blue eyes and honey coloured hair embellished the pretty girl she already was and also had her own horse, the same as mine; an Arabian cheshire. I had detested her suitcase as it was a fluffy pink with blue zipline and a very childish desire, but Alyssa in person, was actually much nicer than I had thought.
There Vanessa, a blonde girl with swift waves and a delicate, made up face. She looked very determined and also seemed very determined to become Exerton’s not only most popular, but most clever student as well. She used several undesirable elegant statements from centuries ago such as “woe betide” and she didn’t have a cell phone, let alone a mobile. Her stern, pale face expressed anger, hurt and stiffness.
Lastly, There was Anissa, she had a flushed face and a very slender body. Her long hair was at the end of her back and was dyed a magnificent cerulean, velvet blue that shone. She was very bold and outgoing, with her wicked sense of humour and the countless jokes she preserved for the perfect timings.
I think they thought of my medium length hair and its glossiness as extensions, especially when Vanessa questioned which shop i got them done. I replied “None” and she sniffed. I think my blonde hair was the best out of everyone’s, not to be a boast. My mother’s Albanian and Chinese roots gave the glossiness towards my hair (even though my mother has brown hair) and perhaps my father played a part when it came to the blondeness and sleekness.
It didn’t take long for me to realise Anissa had a jealous grudge of Vanessa. I thought that Anissa was envious of her beauty but it turned out to be something completely else; her attention. I had always centered attention, at home or at school, and it was definitely not something to be jealous of. Why Anissa didn’t understand this was quite queer and I dropped the matter, hoping she would silence over it as well.
Anissa’s common, ordinary looks were not so ordinary. She had sparkling, wide eyes, drawn eyebrows, a delicate, friendly face and pretty, smooth, long hair. I knew that she wasn’t going to be easy living with, at all.
I should’ve knew that sooner.
At Dinner Time, I walked leisurely down the stairs. I was still getting used to my surroundings. The dining table was long and rectangular, taking acres of the huge, empty room. The corridors stuck out as even larger, different doors visible and different types of wreaths scattered around in the frames. There were photographs of schoolgirls from the “North Wing”. They had their hair in plaits, and a graceful, huge, blue bow on either side. The uniform was very neat and distinctive. I thought the pinafore was a bit mottled grey, and the grayish blue was also very dull. The white shirts were also very raw and plain. Was that meant to be our uniform?
“Attention Girls!” everyone looked up to see a fat woman, who was holding a harvested cane. “I am sure you are all settling in well” she shuffled pompously. “I wanted to clarify a few things. To start off with, the rules are promptly to be sent with the maid of your dorm upon your arrival back after dinner” she spoke of it as an arrival to France from Spain, perhaps. “Your uniform is already in your drawers, as part of your personal cupboard components. “Now you may begin to eat” she snuffed grumpily.
The dinner appeared to be greasy, fat chicken with puffed rice. There was some thin, sour, doughy bread with some watery milk. The dinner appeared to be extremely poor quality, despite the fees and the dorm.
I walked up to the dorm, when Arona Kandahar, a maid, walked inside and handed us each a booklet. I opened it up.