A wild, reckless wind tore mercilessly through the evergreen forest. Clouds overhead darkened the peaceful-looking scenery. In the background, a large building loomed. Old and weathered were the stones that held this fortress together. A wide expanse of lush, green grass separated the mysterious forest with the almost-crumbling building. Voices, laughter, shouts of excitement emanated from the building. This was a prestige institution for young learners. It was a boarding school for both boys and girls from the age of 13 to 18. This school was known for their school grounds being breathtakingly beautiful and their academic standard being very (almost ridiculously) high. Many scholars who attended this prestigious school, were child prodigies and did not excel in normal school environments and here was the best place rich parents could send their overachieving snobs that they call their children. Few people attend this school on a scholarship. They were good enough; they had the talent and were now groomed into perfection. I am one of those seemingly unfortunate people who had the talent. The problem was that I lacked enthusiasm, I hated this school and the school hated me. We were luckily on mutual terms with our relationship, if you could call it that. I was the one who stood out. I was, 16, short, had golden blond hair, was skinny beyond repair and had blue eyes. Sounds like the total package, doesn't it? My parents were the only ones who call me beautiful. My dad used to tease me and say I was Hitler's perfect specimen. I wore glasses with a bright red rim which were held together by duck tape on each side. I was not the sporty type, I was not the math geek (wondering how I got into the school?!), my heart didn't lie with physics or chemistry, I was only mildly interested in Biology, my drawing skills were not the best and I was no Mozart. My forte was linguistics. I could speak, at the moment, English, Afrikaans, German, Dutch, French, Finnish and Mandarin. I can also speak a few words in Na'vi.

I had the habit of reading to much and not concentrating in most of my subjects. I was not popular and had basically only one friend. She's not exactly the one who you can tell your deepest secrets to and you don't really want to hang out with her outside school (which is basically impossible at a boarding school). The people in my class rather went out of my way and when they were sure I couldn't hear them they would talk in whispered tones behind my back. My only escape was the old typewriter in my very small room. I was one of the few who had a room of their own. My walls were full of pictures that I have cut out of my grandfather's old National Geographic magazines, posters of popular stars (I had to cover the ugly wall colour with something.), old class photos and photos of my best friend who lived very far from here and I only get to see her every 2 years. We tried the letter writing thing but it didn't last long. I had a small bookshelf which was full already and stacks of books were scattered all over the floor. I had a small window next to my bed which stood in the corner furthest fro the door. Beige curtains decorated the faded blue, rusted window frame which looked over the wide green sports field and onto the forest beyond. Between my bed and the window was my small nightstand. On top lay a book, Anna Karenina, a circular, orange container for my retainer, a moneybox shaped like a teddy from my father, a wooden rectangular box from my uncle which he bought for me in Shanghai and a lime green card from people I used to work for in the holidays. My bed was a mess. I never make my bed and my white sheets, that had red flowers on them, were creased and my earphones lay tangled in the duvet. If you were to follow the earphone trail it would lead you to my phone which hung to its charger which was plugged into the wall. My typewriter was on my desk. The surface of the desk hasn't been seen since I moved in here. Papers, worksheets, letters, homework pens, a pair of broken earphones, an unfinished lollypop that stuck to my latest math test and a pair of mushroom earrings were scattered on my desk. Only my typewriter was clean. Neat and well looked after. My cupboard, which was covered with an orange cloth (luckily), stood in front of my door and no one dares look inside. It is a disaster. The floor is covered in a nasty beige carpet which radiated with dust. The worst part is that I have to share a bathroom with 20 other teenage girls.

A knock on my desk brought me back to the classroom. "Tarilla, how many times must I do that just to get your attention? It's a wonder they let you into this school!" shouted my wonderful mathematics teacher. Fräulein Schmidt was our beloved teacher. She disliked me with a passion. She was not very skinny (I don't want to call her fat, even though she is.) and always wears these white see-through, have I mentioned tight, tee-shirts. They are too short and her flabby stomach sticks out at the bottom. In summer time, the perfect time not to shave (according to her), she would lift her arms and one would see these huge sweat stains underneath her arms and the bushy hair growing from her armpits. Luckily the weather was cooler today. I looked up at her semi-red face and quickly looked down again. "I don't know…" I said in a weak voice. I must've been blushing. I could hear the snicker of one of my classmates. I knew exactly who it was and we were not on friendly terms. Andrew Muster was one of the foulest people I've known. He is my personal bully. He was probably hired by a higher power just to punish my miserable life. He even had his own posse. Cristian and Milano. They were nice to me once upon a time but when they saw it was 'uncool' to be nice to me they just did whatever he did. Luckily the bell rang and I grabbed my bag and file and rushed out of there as fast as I could. I followed the familiar path to my room and threw my bag and file on the floor, scattering all the loose pages of my file on the floor. I ran to the one mirror I had in my room. The one that was leaning against the wall, held together with duck tape just like my glasses. I stared at myself. My black skirt was hanging skew from my thin waist and I lifted my white polo shirts to adjust the shoelace I used for a belt. My hair was hanging limply on my shoulders. I was pale. Summer was on its ay and brought the first rain storms of the season. My skin hadn't seen sun for months and one could swear I was part of the Cullen family. I looked at my hands. They were dry and my silver nail polish was chipping of everywhere. On my left hand, the silver ring that I bought at a flea market shone in the weak light coming from the fluorescent bulb in the light above. On my right hand I twirled the ring from my grandmother in circles which hung loosely on my bony fingers. Without thinking I ran. It was break and the halls were crowded with people. Suddenly I ran into a person. I looked at my feet and recognized the shoes of the person standing right in front of me. Black and white converse were his trademark. I looked up and into his scowl. Andrew just laughed that irritating laugh and his posse did too. "Do you know what you did?" he asked trying to sound menacing. I turned around and was just about to walk away when I turned around and walked up to him and shoved him as hard as I could. He stumbled and when he regained his balance, he slapped me right through the face. I was shocked beyond belief. Tears started falling down my cheeks and I looked up to find myself staring at the compassionate eyes of Cristian. I turned around and my feet were carrying me to who knows where. I was running, just running. Suddenly it was darker and the floor felt different underneath the soles of my feet. I looked up to find trees and trees and more trees. I was in the forest at the schools boundaries. How did I get here? Where am I? I started walking In the direction where I thought the school was. Little did I know that I was just walking deeper and deeper into the seemingly endless labyrinth of trees. I started to panic and walked faster but it got me nowhere. I walked and walked until my feet ached really badly. I found a small hole in a truck of a huge tree and made myself as comfortable as possible. I was shivering as the night turned cold and regretted that I did not put my jacket on. Slowly sleep took over my hungry, tired body but it couldn't shake the uneasy feeling from me.

The next morning, a few rays of sunlight penetrated the canopy of the dark forest and my eyes blinked as I got used to the light. I stretched and expected to find my soft duvet in my cozy warm room but reality came back to my thoughts. My body was stiff and I hurt all over and my stomach growled loudly which made me blush even though there was no one there. I slowly got up and dusted a few fallen leaves from my skirt. Suddenly I heard a rustling nearby and panicked. I hid behind a tree and the sight before me was breathtaking…