Their first week in Amity Park consisted of mostly fixing up the old house. Paint cans lay everywhere, as well as cleaning utensils of every shape and size. The place was a danger zone; whereever you turned there was a tripping hazard.
But, finally, the day Sam had been reading arrived. The day she joined the rest of the teenagers in Casper high.
The annoying sound of her alarm clock statled her awake at seven that morning. She slammed her fist down on the device that so heartlessly woken her from her dreams, then reluctantly dragged herself out of the warm confines of her bed. After a quick shower and changing out of her pyjamas, she stopped by her mirror and looked into her deep purple eyes. A small portion of her raven black hair was tied up in a ponytail at the top of her head, whilst the rest made a bob that reached just past cheeks, not quite meeting her shoulders. she wore a simple black tank top that exposed her stomach and a black skirt, along with purple tights and thick, black combat boots. Finally she applied her usual purple lipstick then deemed herself ready to go.
She tumbled down the creaky stairs and dragged herself into the kitchen. The kitchen was the only room so far (besides the bedrooms) that had been completely and successfully refurbished. Bright, cheery colours obscured her vision, making her want to hurl, only to be amplified by the light of the sun. Her parents where already up and about, their happy moods practically radiating off them, pulling open more and more curtains, welcoming those deadly rays into their home.
"Urg, I'm a creature of the night, doomed to a family of morning people." Was the good morning she groaned before grabbing a slice of toast and slipping out of the door.
-line break-
After arriving at Casper High and getting given her timetable, Sam found herself pulling open her newly assigned locker and shoving her purple, spider shaped backpack into it. She then slammed it shut and took her first proper look at her timesheet.
'Hmmm, let's see, English, Sociology, P.E, Chemistry and Maths. Could be worse.' So she made her way to her designated English room. After finally finding her way there she took a deep breath and walked through the door.
Every student in the room looked up from whatever it was they were doing and took a look at the new arrival. Some did a quick once over before returning to their work, whilst others whispered to one anouther and gave her distasteful glares. 'Great, been in here less than a minute and they're already judging me.' With a sigh, Sam walked over to where the teacher was sat.
He was a bald, middle aged man, possibly in his late forties, maybe early fifties; he was also very, VERY out of shape. Yet he had that kind, understanding air about him. He looked up and gave Sam a warm smile.
"Ah, you must be Miss Manson; my name is Mr Lancer, welcome to Casper High. Would you care to tell us a bit about yourself?" With a small nod, Sam turned to face her new classmates.
"Well, my name is Sam, I'm fourteen years old, i used to live in New York but we had to move because of my dad's work. I'm an untra-recyclo vegeterian-" "A what?" Some girl cut her off, "It means I don't eat anything with a face on it." The girl gave her a funny look but said no more. "As I was saying, the move here was completely unexpected. I moved into a house on the corner of-" As Sam went on to tell them about her house, many audible gasps could be heard around the room. Even Mr Lancer seemed quite disturbed. A lot of studnets then turned to glance to the back of the room. Sam followed their gazes.
There, sitting at the back of the room, was an African-American boy wearing a red beret and a pair of PDA glasses. He was gripping the fabric of his yellow, long sleeve shirt so tight that his fingers where turning white. She looked up and met his eyes. His dull turquoise eyes stared directly at her with a mixture of sadness, fear, confusion, guilt, angst and a bunch of other negative emoutions she couldn't even name, then, in a matter of seconds, he was up and out of the room.
Sam just stood there, mouth agape, wondering what it was she said to get that kind of reaction. "Urrr." Was all she could muster. She looked back at the other students. Each sat in silence, staring at their tables with looks of sadness and guilt.
"Please take a seat Miss Manson." Mr Lancer said softly. He too had a sad glint in his eye. Sam took one more uneasy look at her classmates before taking a vacant seat at the back of the room, next to that of the runaway boy. Questions swirled around her head like a tornado. Questions she was determined to get answered. She looked at the empty desk to the right of her. 'That boy.' She shifted her gaze to the window. 'Maybe he knows.'