Chapter Two- Deceitful
'This was not what I had in mind.' She thought, sliding her body down a bit more in the, much to her dislike, uncomfortable chair. She glanced out of the window and looked longingly at the bustling people, wishing she were one of them. Oh-how she wished she could run around outside, laughing, smiling, being free.
A mental chuckle rang through her mind as she watched a little boy buy some ice cream. He was one of those cute small things, looking like he was a wolf ready to chomp upon its prey as the ice cream man handed him his vanilla cone. He skipped back to his mother, only to trip, spilling the paid for contents on the ground. Tears, big and round began to pour down his soft cheeks. The mother rushed over, frowning a bit, wiped his eyes and went to the ice cream man, who had already made another one, free of charge. She thanked him gracefully and handed the cone to her son who in return, giggled happily and walked along with his mother by her side.
Glancing at the other busy students and frigid teacher, she sighed and continued to gaze contemplatively out the window. She cursed the idiotic person who had knocked her out, and forced her into an orphanage. "Miss Waters! I believe I asked you a question." Ismene snapped out of her daydream and turned towards the dull but fierce teacher. One would think that she would be nice, with her curly blonde hair and intense bright blue eyes, but that was before one got to know her. She demanded nothing less than perfection from all her students. Their gray button down shirts and grey pants had to be pressed neatly and sharply, hair had to combed, body had to be free of all dirt, nails trimmed and cleaned, and all shoes had to be shined. 'I would have rather gone to Hell. It's better than here.' She thought, rolling her eyes. "I am sorry Ms. Rumtlic, but could you please repeat the question?" Her many frowns lines became prominent as she marched back up to the front of the mini-jail the students called a classroom.
"I asked you what four times 3 minus 15 plus two was." She replied, smirking in her direction. 'Are you serious?' Ismene thought. In her past life 'which is cool how I can say that' she thought, she had been the top of her class and even completed her brother's homework faster than he could. As the class moved toward their slates, (the orphanage thought it would save money if they used slates instead of paper) Ismene sighed and continued to look out the window. "The answer is -1." She replied, not even moving towards her slate. She rarely needed it anymore. "Very good Ms. Waters, but next time, maybe you should pay attention." Her clipped and firm voice sent a shudder down other students' spines but not hers. She had seen, been with and had been taught by a lot worse than just Ms. Rumtlic- who at least cared for them unlike the other teachers she'd had previously Like one of her now deceased teachers, Ms. Hanatin. She was sent straight from Hell to torment her. It was like every time Ismene did something wrong, Ms. Hanatin would make it her personnel responsibility to punish her, in her own ways. 'I can't even count how many times I stayed after school, cleaning chalkboards and scrubbing the floors.' She glanced again at the students trying to keep up and sighed. Life here in 'Sunsets Orphanage' was getting to her. She needed fun, excitement, something to do besides wanting the next childless couple to come adopt someone to take home and work as their slave.
A small giggle escaped her lips at the silly thought, summoning the class's attention to her. "Ms. Waters, is there something funny going on here?" The teacher asked, marching up to her desk. Ismene, frowning deeply, stood. She had reached her limit. With, gruel for lunch, having to share absolutely everything with everyone, frigid teachers who though they were scary, 'Not.' Ismene thought silently to herself, and an irritating guy who just would not quit, her eyes flashed to the empty seat the right of her, the seat owned by Damion Kaman. "Yeah there is something funny here. Your face!" The entire classroom burst into hysterics as if they had never heard a joke before. 'They probably haven't.' She thought, rolling her eyes. Ms. Rumtlic turned a lovely shade of red and grabbed Ismene's arm, forcing her to follow her down the hall to the Headmaster's office. Ismene growled and tried to push the desperately in need of some lotion hands off her tender arm, but the grip stayed firm. Digging her feet into the floor, she cried out as Ms. Rumtlic tugged her arm harder, forcing her to decide between walking to the Headmaster's office and having a dislocated shoulder.
"Sign in." The lazy drawl from the woman at the front desk failed to make her intentional scare. Glancing around the room, she signed her barely readable scrawl of a name and sat down in the torn grey chair. The room's walls were peeling, the carpet had many stains on it, only two chairs were in the room, the one she was sitting in and the lady's chair, a pile of very old books stood stacked in a corner and a dim light hung overhead. Ismene yawned and waited for her to meet the Headmaster. "And let's make sure to use proper language Mr. Kaman." Her head snapped up and glanced at the portly man and the tall teen standing in the doorway to his small office. As the office door closed, he turned around to meet the slightly surprised look of Ismene. 'Interesting girl.' He thought to himself. He was not big on meeting new orphans, particularly girl orphans, for all they did was whine and cry. He met her green eyes and smirked.
"Ismene Waters, right?" He asked, coming to stand in front of her.
She frowned deeply at his mocking tone, before standing. She stood as tall as she could, but was still a good head shorter than he was.
"What's it to you?"
He shrugged in a way that made her blood boil.
"I'd never expect smart girl in here." His smirk grew as her frown deepened.
"Listen you," she growled, taking a step forward and was nose to nose with him. "I do not like you, nor do I like this place. I advise you to stay away from me before bad things start to happen." She tightened her fist slightly, just to give him a squeeze.
If he was affected by her threat and powers, he did not show it.
"Ismene, come into my office." The Headmaster appeared and she turned away from him. She moved to walk over to the man, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. Green met black. Smirking slightly, he let her go and strolled out of the office, whistling a tune foreign to her ears. "Ms. Waters, let's get this over with." She stepped into the tiny office and door closed.
"Ms. Waters, why are you here?" Ismene stayed quiet just gazing at the man in front of her. He frowned a bit and continued to wait, thinking Ismene was just thinking about her actions. In all honesty, said girl was not even looking at him, more like through him. Her mind was currently running around with thoughts Damion. 'Why did he touch my shoulder? What was that smirk about? Moreover, why did he suddenly start whistling that tune? It sounds somewhat familiar, but so foreign… He's probably just messing with my mind and trying to get me to like him, just like all the other girls in my class.' It was a well-known fact to Ismene that Damion Kaman was the most sought after boy in the orphanage. Shaking her head, she snapped her eyes to the frustrated eyes of the headmaster.
"I was being very disruptive and rude to the teacher and class. I hope she accepts my apologies." Ismene whispered, laying the apologetic tone of voice on thick and truthfully replying. She had been a bit mean, taking her wants and dreams out on poor Ms. Rumtlic. 'I was mean, but she has been mean to me, so what goes around, comes around.' She thought, shrugging mentally. Shaking her head, she placed a fake and sorry smile on her face. The Headmaster grinned and nodded. Standing, he walked toward her door. "Since this is your first offense, I shall let you off with a warning. Have a nice day Ms. Waters." He opened the door. She bowed gracefully and left the cramped room.
'Suckers.' She smirked, closing the door behind her and walking out of the office.