Hi, readers! I've been on a bit of a hiatus, but I've decided that I need to write again.
Disclaimer- I wish I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, but not even my twisted imagination could come up with this stuff!
Ella sat at her desk. Finally, it was her last day of school forever. The year would be over, and then she would tell her parents she was dropping out of school. She knew what her mother would say…
"You're sixteen years old! How dare you make such a decision by yourself! You could have gone to a university! Not many young girls do that, young lady!"
Ella loved her mother, she really did. But she knew that her mother didn't care why she was going to leave school. She didn't fit in, for one. But her true dream was to sing. She wanted to travel the country and have wealthy people listen to her on their record players. Now, she wasn't poor by a long stretch. But after the stock market crash, her mother had stopped making good meals and buying frilly things for Ella to wear. How excited would she be when she would get a check in the mail for thousands of dollars?
She turned her thoughts back to the sadist teacher at the front of the room. Why, on the last day of school, was there class? She attempted to stay awake as the teacher wrote a useless math problem on the board. When Ella established that she knew the answer, she laid her head on her desk and began to dream.
"Ella!" a girl's voice hissed. "Ella, my darling friend! Class is over, and Sally and Anne and I are going to the beach! You should go; it is going to be so fun!"
Ella looked up at a tall blond girl named Clara. They had been best friends for 5 years, and had become friends with Sally and Anne, two other girls who only seemed interested in boys, 2 years ago. Ella just grunted as she picked up her schoolbag and followed her friends out of the classroom.
Ella walked slowly behind her friends on the beach, who, as usual, were hoping to attract boys with their skimpy bathing suits. "Ella!" Anne turned around and let her strawberry blond hair fly around. "Catch up with us, will you? You seem as if you're one of those people who follows girls and then kills them!"
Ella walked quickly to Anne. "You know, you shouldn't yell things like that in a public place."
"Anyway, we were just talking about you, Eleanor." Anne ignored Ella and used her full name. "We were just saying how you underestimate yourself. You're the most slender out of all of us but you just hide your ridiculously small waist."
"And we were also talking about how lucky we are that you hate group dates. If you ever brought Kevin on a date with us, our boyfriends would never even look at us!" Sally said with her usual giggle.
Ella glared at the girls. Why did everyone always want her to be so feminine and pretty? She remembered when the girls had forced her into a chair and made her wear red lipstick. They had gasped because "she looked so gorgeous," but Ella had been furious. She ignored them for a week.
"Oh, look at the time!" Clara looked at her wristwatch. "I suppose we should leave."
"Good. I really don't enjoy having foolish men gawk at us. It's degrading." Ella quickly slipped into her blouse and men's trousers and left her friends behind her.
Ella looked at her home. Brown like mud. She sighed. She had to leave. Her parents would be angry and sad, but she knew deep down that she had to. She slipped into the house. No one was home. She ran up to her room and grabbed her trusty pocket knife, all of the money she could find, her grandmother's jewelry box filled with her most special possessions, one change of clothes, and even the red lipstick she had been forced to wear. She examined her face in the mirror. She uncapped the lipstick and applied it. She didn't look any prettier, but she definitely looked older. She threw everything in her now empty school bag and grabbed her guitar. It was time for her to leave.
The wind blew her scarf in her face. It was cool for a summer day, so all of the taxis were taking people home. "Taxi!" she bellowed again. No luck. She went back to the park where she had been sitting and took out her guitar. She left the case open, hoping someone would give her some money. She sang as well as she could, but people just looked at her. She knew what they were thinking: Who is this young homeless girl wearing red lipstick? And why is she sitting in our beautiful park?
Ella tried to smile at the wealthy little children, hoping they would convince their parents to give her a simple dollar from their overflowing leather wallets. No
such luck. She suddenly felt the wind pick up. The sun became increasingly bright. Her dirty hair flew about like a whiplash. Before she knew it, she wasn't in 1940s American anymore.
