The sounds around, engulf me. The roar of the bellowing wind, the hum of the mockingjay, the squeal of the train. I close my eyes and begin to dream, dream about a mum I have always longed for. Until, I fall into a large puddle. I stand up. " This is just great my first day of my new school and I make a fool out of myself". It's too late to call dad or run home and get changed, I will just have to go to school drenched. I always thought I was unlucky ever since I was born. For example. When I lost my dad's wallet or when I got stuck in the middle of nowhere with no phone or money or when I snuck into a pg 13 movie and got banned from the cinema. However, my dad denies the fact that I am simply unlucky. He tells me "squeaks you are lucky no matter what happens". I used to believe that but I gave up after a while.
I enter Matthew High, named after this famous person I think. The bell goes. Dang! I can't be late for my first day. I have know idea where I am even meant to go. Luckily for once I find a sign directing me to the hall where all Year 1's begin. I rush through the door without hesitation. To my surprise I found myself being stared at by around a hundred pairs of eyes. I sit down immediately trying not to get noticed again. The lady at the front resumes her speech. I think she's like the principle or something. She instructs us to stand up when we are called and collect our schedules, I don't even know what a schedule is. I was homed school until now so I am kinda a newbie.
After the plethora of names to be called I grab my schedule and dash to my home room. Room 201. I follow the trail of doors leading to the home room. On my way I catch sight of a class just staring blankly at a chalk board. "Gosh. I hope this year is going to be better than that". Ahh home room. We all take our seats. Our teacher is Ms. Parker. She informs us about the rules and begins to go on a bit. Finally she says go to your next class. It's history, which I think I may have a little knowledge about since my dad's a history addict.
The class goes by in a blur. I knew everything. I learned this stuff years ago, about the factions and the symbols. There used to be a system when dad was a boy but it was disbanded a long time ago. I finally wake when Ms. Roth (the history teacher) begins calling out our homework assignment. We have to find out about our names. Such questions as why were we called that and who are we name after as such.
The rest of school goes by in seconds. It was amazing. I learned so much more than I ever thought I would. Last bell rings and everyone goes home. Highschool isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I don't want to walk home today, I am exhausted. At least the train should be here any moment now. I begin to run with my backpack on my back and my determination on full drive. I begin to pick up speed, the train pulls round and I jump. Just in time before I would've fallen off the track.
Finally home I open the door to our lakeside apartment. I am greeted by a pleased dad. "Hey Tris, how was your first day of school?". "Amazing". "Glad for that squeaks, I got pie in the oven that mum brought over". "Delicious I love Mima's pies". I take a seat at the table and take out my homework. I get all my homework done except the history project done before the pie is ready. Dad brings the pie over and a glass of milk, he takes a seat and pulls out two forks.
Dads just finishing the pie when I start my project. I don't know everything so I will have to ask dad. "First question: what is your name?". "Tobias Eaton". "2. What is my name?". "Tris Tori Eaton". "3. Why am I called Tris?". No reply. "Dad?". "Sorry squeaks give me a second". He goes into his bedroom. I begin to tap my pencil. Where is he it's been ten minutes all ready. I stop tapping.
I begin to hear a soft cry behind the wall.