Chapter One~

Two more minutes. Only two left. Two more minutes of reliving the violence of the French Revolution. Two more minutes spent wishing I was two thousand metres up a slim-barked willow tree, the light breeze dissolving against my catlike face.

But no. Instead, I am sat in the second row of my freezing cold History classroom, watching my clouds of cold breath wafting away into the bitter early autumn air. I dreamt of a jungle so prosperous that even the smallest cluster of berries could paint the most picturesque of sunsets.

"Sierra!" a scornful voice pulls me back into reality, slamming my back into painful ground. I blinked my grey-blue eyes. I had not been concentrating, and now I would pay the ultimate price.

"Sierra, can you tell me what year the French Revolution was finally declared over?"

My face crumbled.

"erm.." I mumbled. A few of the girls on back row giggled cruelly. I bit the inside of my cheek anxiously.

"I... I..."

"Have you been listening at all, Sierra?" Miss Jameson, a rather strict and self-righteous woman, snapped. One minute to go. Oh, bell, please ring earlier...

"y... yes I have been..." I lied. It felt so bad to lie, but saying no would result in the larger price.

Could year seven get much worse?

"Ah, so you have been," she purred to herself, "So tell me, when was it declared over, Sierra?"

I mentally imagined myself leaving Miss Jameson in a jungle to fend for herself. Oh, how hard she would find it with no textbooks, no computers and no phones. I imagined her eating a poison ivy leaf by accident, and of smoke emerging from her ears as a chimpanzee bit her on her fat bottom.

Well, year seven could be worse.

"Well, you see," I began, talking in a hushed mutter, "Um, W-well, the French Revolution I... is..." I tried to look like I was coming up with a flawless answer.

The ball rang. A noisy, commanding trill of safety. I sighed as if I really hated being interrupted, and then mutually packed up my books.

Miss Jameson rolled her snakelike, sunken brown eyes, "I want the answer for next lesson, Sierra!"

I nodded reluctantly and swung my self-painted backpack over one shoulder. A 'tree of life' key-ring jangled from my sudden movement.

As usual, I walked to my fourth lesson alone. Just like every lesson; just like every day. I didn't need friends! Life is sometimes best spent alone.

Even due to my lack of amiable company, I couldn't help risking the slightest of smiles. We had Environmental Science next! It was one of very few lesson I enjoyed. My emotions immediately lifted at the thought.

A couple steps down the hallway. I could sense the presence of something coming up behind me.

"Oh, look. It's Sierra!" He greeted, in that sarcastic pantomime voice. A girl with ridiculously unnatural hair (her pale pink highlights were unmistakably dyed and her hair much too yellow blonde) came up next to him. Mina. I've never liked Mina. Much too bold and brash; too confident in her own skin. Less than mediocre.

I lowered my arched eyebrows, "Hello.." I greeted sullenly.

Mina nudged him and giggled. Probably her 89th boyfriend or something. I turned on my heel and continued to walk towards D4, my biology room. Mina followed me after parting with him, and walked way too close to me. It sent uncomfortable feelings around my head.

"Nice bad, Sierra." The colourful-haired girl attempted to make small talk. At least she used my chosen name, "Poundland? 99p Store? I think I saw it."

I seethed with annoyance and anger, "No, actually," I spat, not turning around, "It was from a shop in town. I painted it myself."

The bag itself was plain white and made of faux leather. I'd had it for three years now, and on the first year of ownership I had chosen to splatter it with dots of green paint.

Sure that Mina had meant to aggravate me, I quickened my pace. Unfortunately, so did she.

"Extremely neat painting." She commented snippily. I bit the inside of my cheek. Don't let her get to you, Sierra.

I approached the Biology door, and furiously swung it open. I swung it closed with so much fury, that I forgot about the bully standing behind me. Mina yelped in pain, and I turned around to see her crying, her arm trapped in the doorframe. She quickly extracted her arm, but there was no mistaking her pain.

"Ow, Ow! Sierra, what was that for?!" She wailed bitterly. Even in pain, she wanted to make a fool out of me and make a bit of melodrama. Honestly, was she really 12 years old?

Mrs Seggram, my second favourite teacher in the school, ran up to us and began to calm her down. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to sit down or not. The short but kind-hearted teacher then turned to me. Mrs Seggram has always adored my love for plants and geography. Whatever fragilre bond we had was sure to be broken now.

The whole class fell silent, and listened to Mina sobbing.

"Sierra," My teacher commanded sternly, "I would like you to go over to C11."

I gulped in horror. C11, the referall room.

"B...But Mrs S-" I began to plead.

"No buts, Sierra. Come back once you are sent back." She interrupted firmly.

I wiped beads of silver, nervous sweat from my forehead, exiting the classroom without a second thought.

And, that's when I felt an itch on my finger...