The ghost of Belleview Academy.
Chapter 1- Can you see her?
This is Belleview Academy. A perfectly normal school, apart from two things. One- it is a junior high, high school and collage all on one sprawling campus. You can go in at grade 7 and not leave until you have finished with education. As the biggest school for miles around it attracts amazing teachers, first class pupils and fame in its local area. But at the moment the corridors are quite, and the cafeteria is thriving.
There are your usual, typical groups: jocks, cheerleaders, glee club, nerds ect. You have all the three sets of pupils in one cavernous room, with its counters and table tops stretching out as far as the eye can see. And right in the corner, far far in the distance, if you look very carefully, stand on your tiptoes and get your binoculars out, you just might see someone that is very rarely spotted. Can you see her? Curled up in that corner, her body contorted into the smallest shape physically possible. Deep, vibrant red hair, strands of gold and honey reflecting in the bright mid-day sun. Shoulder length, curling in around her face, as if to fame it. Her skin bone white, almost glowing, contrasting beautifully with her chalk skin. Long, thin fingers curled round a book, head bowed, body still and unmoving.
This ladies and gentlemen is the second reason. And she is who we are interested. Watch her for a moment. The only sign that she's still alive is the careful movement of the pages, done so precisely that it causes no sound. She's been doing this for years. And has gotten good at it.
There goes the bell, end of lunch, start of next period. Her head doesn't lift upwards as she slides the hard backed book into a fabric bag which she wears across her body. It's faded with age and ware and is a deep purple cordlike fabric, soft to the touch and warm. Her jeans are basic, nondescript, blue denim, faded at the knees and where she's been sitting on them. On her feet are a pair of sneakers, white toes, red canvas body with white laces. The t-shirt is slightly loose on her thin, almost skeletal frame. It's red, with white shot through it and looks like a favourite t-shirt that you wear all the time, but never to school. She has a black jacket resting on her bag, saving her from carrying it in her hands, the fleecy inside facing the sky.
And now! There, did you catch that? You just got what is likely to be the only glimpse of her face you will ever see. Plain features, nothing special or remarkable but the thing that catches your eye if you notice her is her eyes. Leaf green, deep aquatic turquoise and gold flecks are all combined to make a breath taking hazel that is truly awe inspiring. It is often said that eyes are where a person's emotions are transmitted to the world. But not here. No these eyes are completely blank, with no spark or fire in them, no trace of feeling. If most people get this far they normally shiver at the lifeless eyes are turn to their friends, forgetting almost instantly. But no-one ever gets this far, nobody notices her, knows her name, who she is or where she comes from. She just sits pulled into the corner so not to attract attention.
Her name is Samantha Cunnings, and this is how she was thrust into the spot-light.
Mr and Mrs Cunnings weren't that worried when Samantha brought home no friends for the first few years. Everyone needs time to find their feet and meet people. But after a while, after she went to high school, then they became worried. As well they might. For you see Samantha had a gift, of sorts. She could make herself invisible, unnoticeable, completely unremarkable. Teachers spoke softly to her in class, excused her from doing presentations, later her do that after class privately. When people looked at her their eyes either didn't register that she was there, or they looked through her like she was a pane of glass. Translucent, opaque, see-through. Nobody knew that she was British, had moved to America almost five years ago when her parents got jobs at an army base in Arizona. Nobody knew that she had been popular and well liked in her old school. Nobody knew that she hated guns and violence and despised that fact that she'd had to leave her old life because of them. Nobody knew and nobody cared. None of the pupils in her year could tell you what her voice was like; tell you what she was like. None of them know who she is.
But all of this is about to change. The ghost of Belleview Academy is about to be brought back to life. She is about to wake up.
A/n: ok that was hard to write. I just sat down at my laptop and wrote it in about three quarters of an hour. Bit different from my usual stuff but I was reading 'Of Mice and Men' in class, the chapter about Crooks and loneliness, and how it is a disease and books aren't enough. Those of you that have read it will know what I'm talking about. If you haven't read it please do. So I thought I'd let my imagination go and see what it came up with. As I was walking home with my brother I was thinking parts of this through, how it would work, what description went where. This is all based on my imagination, Arizona is a real place but I've never been and I'm not American so I don't know if that school could ever happen. So any mistakes I'm sorry. But please review; let me know what was good and what was bad. Wrote for the first time without music. Strange.
Katzzle out xxxxxx