Sam woke up that morning in a daze; what a weird dream she had. And not to mention emotionally scarring.
"Its like my mind supports me parents, eesh," she murmured, but inside she secretly felt pleased about her romantic dream of the upcoming school dance.
Stretching, yawning, and mustering all her strength, Samantha Manson crawled out of bed and headed towards her dresser. She replaced her black silk pajamas with her usual Gothic attire: combat boots, purple stockings, a black and green plaid skirt, her usual onyx bracelettes and choker, and a simple black tank-top with a purple oval logo on the front.
"Almost ready," she yawned, brushing out her bobbed black hair. Sam applied her light purple lipstick, and finished her look by pulling strands of her hair back into a small ponytail.
"All done," she smiled in the mirror, then glanced at her alarm clock. In bright, blinking, red digital numbers it read nearly six o'clock. Perfect! Her parents were most likely asleep, so she wouldn't have to deal with them this morning. No annoying and judgmental parents breathing down her neck and criticizing her independent ways of thinking.
So Sam Manson, Casper High School's well-known goth geek, made her way outside. She walked across her ginormous lawn towards the limousine waiting at the end of her driveway.
Sam was considered a loser at school, but that was because her wealthy status was well hidden. Not even her childhood best friends knew of her family's power. Why? She figured she could make friends without the help of money. Everyday, Sam would be chauffeured to her high school every day, but dropped off a block away from campus to avoid the leakage of her secret.
"Morning Miss Manson," said her driver, opening the door for her.
Sam smiled, pulling off her fuzzy purple backpack and throwing it in the back of the limo. "Just call me Sam, thanks."
"Very well," he shut the door after she entered the cushioned vehicle.
Sam lay back into the plush seating and stared out the window. Now that everything was peaceful, she couldn't help but wonder about her dream. She had danced with a shadow man, slowly, and alone, in the middle of a dimly lit dance hall. Her dress was vague in her memory, but she remembered feeling like a princess in it.
During the rest of the ride, Sam's independence argued with the feminine side of her mind.
"See you after school," she said to her chauffeur, then swung her backpack over her should and headed down the sidewalk.
After reaching the large school doors, Sam ventured inside. Since school was due to start momentarily, the hallway was packed full of bustling students. On her way to her locker, Sam ran into her two best friends; Danny Fenton and Tucker Foley were conversing beside Danny's band room locker.
"Hey Sam," Danny greeted her with a smile.
She smiled back, "Hey guys, whats up?"
"Danny's dad was fishing for ghosts this morning," Tucker explained.
Sam nodded; Danny Fenton came from a family of nearly insane ghost hunters... and its ironic, because, due to an accident a few months previously, Danny became half ghost. "Well, what happened?"
Danny yawned, obviously exhausted. "The usual. We fought, I kicked butt. It turned into this weird ghost girl and flew back through the ghost portal."
Sam beamed mildly. "I'm impressed. Is that why you're so tired today?"
"Nah," he chuckled, "I'm always tired in the morning, but fighting a dragon doesn't help."
Tucker chirped happily, "Look, the dance posters are up!"
Sam faked a groan, "It's just another stupid dance, Tucker."
"Yeah, but also a chance to get a hot date and up our levels on the popularity scale," he retorted, "By the way, Danny. Are you going to ask Paulina to the dance?"
Danny blushed. "She'd never say yes. B-besides, she probably already has a date," he stuttered.
Sam, no matter how much she disliked the beautiful boy-magnet Paulina, decided to be supportive of Danny and his puppy-love infatuation. "Maybe not. Why not just ask her?"
"She'd say no for sure," he frowned.
Tucker rubbed his chin, nodding quizzically at a girl walking by. "What do you think of that girl?" He pointed out the blond cheerleader with lively pigtails.
"Cheerleaders again, Tucker?" Sam rolled her eyes, "They're so shallow!"
"But they're still girls! Jeez Sam, lighten up," Tucker defended.
Danny intervened with his best peacemaking voice, "Now, now, guys. It's not big deal," he soothed.
"I'm just saying-" Tucker and Sam said simultaneously, then exchanged glances. The two got clashed like oil and water, personality wise and appearance wise; Sam was a goth girl with pale skin and a veggie diet, whereas Tucker was dark skinned, the ultimate nerd, and a full-on meat eater. Though they were total opposites, Tuck and Sam were still the best of buds along with their other childhood friend Danny.
"We'll talk more at lunch," said Danny, who headed towards History class. "The last time we talked in one of Mr. Lancer's classes, he nearly called out parents."
Sam nodded in agreement. Not that she cared what her parents thought, though.
With that, they all headed to History class with Mr. Lancer.
Walking in the door, Tucker made the effort to point out another dance poster. "They're all over school now!"
Sam forced herself to glare at the poster, fighting the urge to read it. Quickly, she made her way to her desk, which rest dormant beside Paulina's. When Sam sat down, she could feel the popular girl's eyes on her. Sam turned to her, "What?"
Her classmate smiled innocently at first, "Oh, nothing. Just wondering if anyone asked you to the dance."
"Uh," Sam blinked.
Paulina's adorable smiled morphed into a wicked grin, "No? Thought so. Nobody's desperate enough to ask you. Not even your weird little nerd friend," she giggled menacingly, referring to Tucker and his desperation for a date.
Sam narrowed her eyebrows, then suddenly lost the drive to defend herself. Paulina was right; Tucker hadn't even thought to ask her! Fuming, Sam opened her History textbook and stared at the content, appearing to be busy so she wouldn't have to face the cheerleader adjacent to her.
"Ah! Miss Manson," Mr. Lancer's voice called out, a joyous ring to it.
Sam, with eyebrows raised, looked up at her overweight teacher.
He smiled across the room at her. "Here we have a stupid who shows excellent effort in her academics and is one we should all strive to follow!" Mr. Lancer beamed, beginning to applaud.
The bell hadn't even rung yet and Sam had already embarrassed herself! "Yeah, good job Sam. Pretend to be busy and you get the whole class staring at you," she thought bitterly as the class suddenly burst into laughter.
Mr. Lancer tried desperately to quiet the class, but even so, his efforts were futile.
Sam groaned and put her head on her desk, closing her eyes and wishing for it to go away. Normally she would just shrug this off as her daily punishment for being a loser, but she was already stressed out about other things and didn't need extra worries. Maybe if she calmed down and relaxed, so would everybody else, and they could all get on with their day.
Eventually it died down - almost to a cricket silence - but she was sure she'd hear about it in the hallways and her other classes. Sam couldn't thinking about it anymore. She wouldn't, for the moment's negativity was beginning to ruin her 'perfect' morning. There wasn't just the recent event in her mind, either. While she forced herself to get over the thoughts of future name-calling, she failed miserably at trying to avoid wondering about her dream.
All throughout the rest of class - thanks to Mr. Foley for pointing it out to her - Sam's eyes kept wandering towards the Friday night dance poster. Her independence and desire to be different made her feel obligated to reject any form of popular social gathering. However, Sam was still a teenage girl, and inside every girl is a princess. Sam's inner princess just happened to be free-willed and gloomy. This feel of longing began to annoy her. Questions concerning dating, her dream, the dance, and popularity threatened to turn her into a typical girl with typical problems.
Sam had had enough!
"Mr. Lancer," her hand shot into the air.
"Yes, Miss Manson?" he looked up from his palm sized dictionary of teen slang.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" she asked, feeling oddly light-hearted about her surroundings. It was like there was nobody in the classroom to stare at her, though the entire class was full.
"Mmm," he stared her down, debating whether or not to release her from class. "Mmm, very well."
Sam stood and walked out the door. She sighed, then gasped. The entire hallway was littered with a variety of many colored posters: Dance Posters. The posters, as if controlled by ghosts, flew around uncontrollably. The wind conjured by the sudden motion of breeze summoning papers whipped her hair around with all its strength. Sam's ponytail band flew from her hair!
"Whats going on!" she cried out. The papers slowed, then suddenly began spiraling towards her in a paper vortex; Sam closed her eyes and waited for the impact.
But nothing happened. Everything stopped. Sam opened her eyes and stared, jaw gaping, at the decorated gymnasium from her dream.
There's more to this episode chapter. Please r/r and I'll continue it if you like it! Peace! :)