Disclaimers & warnings: See author's forward.
Chapter One: Welcome to Hell
The voices of the announcers emanating from my radio-alarm clock tore me from my blissful slumber. They were announcing the day's weather: sunny and warm, not a cloud in the sky, a day to be spent outside. And of course it was my first day of class.
I half-hazardly make my way to my shower thanking the gods once again that I don't have to put up with my annoying half sister in this early in the morning. The 15-year-old midget is always reminding me how I'm the black sheep of the family, born out of wedlock of an unknown father. She's always claiming that I'm a devil-spawn, something I am prone to agree with. There's only one thing my mother ever did that I am grateful for, and that is when she renovated the attic so that I could live up here. She probably only did it so that I wouldn't contaminate my younger sisters, but I got the privacy I crave so dearly, so I'm not complaining. She also gives me quite a bit of money each month, probably so that she doesn't have to feel guilty for pretending that I don't exist most of the time.
The burning hot water cascades down onto my body, washing away the remaining tension in my muscles. And boy was I tense. Not only is today my first day of class, it's my first day of class in sec.5, my last year of high school. After washing and drying, I put on my school uniform. This would be the last year I would have to wear it. Grey ironed pants, white dress shirt, navy blue tie, a jacket of the same navy blue with the school's emblem on the left, and a pair of black leather shoes: that is my uniform. The same goddamned thing for the last four years…
After a quick breakfast (toast and orange juice) spent listening to my sister prattle on about her expectations for today, I bike the five blocks separating my house and school. I arrive early to class, but I want to snatch a seat in the back and those are generally the first seats to go, so I had no choice. Checking my schedule to make sure that I'm headed in the right direction, I let out a heavy sight. The first hour-and-a-half of my Wednesdays for the following ten months will be spent in English class. I never really understood this school's obsession with starting the year on a Wednesday…
When I walk into class I'm surprised to find another student already there, and not just any student, but Lucié Lenlen. He plays a staring role in the fantasies of the female half of Royal West's student body, as well as in my own. His long blond hair is so pale it's almost white; his eyes are like sapphires and reflect his every emotion. He's tall and radiates pride and power. What's so great about him is probably the fact that he doesn't let himself be defined by any of the "cliques" at school. He's good in sports, but he's not a jock; he's smart, but he's not a nerd either; he's good looking, but he's not vain or an airhead. But he's still popular, and therefore hard to approach if you're not popular as well, which I'm not.
With a nod in his direction I make my way to the seat on the opposite side of the class than where he is. I have one of the two best seats in the class, Lucié having the other. In the left back corner of the class, I could see everyone and not worry about those behind me. The windows are on the back wall of the class, so I'll get plenty of sunlight; unfortunately it also prevents everyone from staring outside.
I wake up when the first bell rings, announcing that classes would be starting in fifteen minutes. The classroom is full of noise and energy. Friends are seeing each other for the first time in over two months. Amidst all of this noise I scowl, can't they keep it down?
When the English teacher arrives, the other students make their way to their seats. The teacher is a short, plump lady with a fake English accent and an endless supply of energy. This will be the third year I have her as an English teacher, so I consider myself a veteran of her quirky behavior. She passed out our agendas so that we can copy our schedules into them while she takes attendance. I diligently set about the task of copying down my schedule in my best writing, waiting for what happens every year.
"Kall?" The teacher asks when she finally gets to my name, trying to find my blond head in the class.
"Kall Su." I replied without even raising my head.
"What?" She asks perplexed. After two years you'd think she'd finally catch on, but nooo.
"My name is Kall Su, not Kall." I say with extra emphasis on the Su. I really hate it when people call me "Kall." I don't know why, but just can't stand it.
"Okay…Kall Su is here…" and she goes on with the list. Sometimes the class bursts out laughing when she mispronounces a name. She then follows up with the traditional welcome back speech, during which I occupy myself by sketching my crucifixion. Then I heard it, "This year I'm going to try something new," Bad. Very bad. When a teacher tries to change their teaching methods, it generally results in something disastrous for the guinea pigs. "This project will last all year," Oh goody, this way the torture can last all year long. Why make it a quick death when you can extend the pain? "The class will be divided up into groups of five," Will the good news never cease? "Starting next week you will be working towards writing a book. You will be handing in a chapter roughly every two weeks. The subject of your book will be up to you. I want an outline for the first chapter for in two weeks today. I will divide you into groups; stop your groaning, I'm the one deciding whom you will be working with. Once I've named all of the groups, you will be allowed to start working. This will be one of the only chances you'll get to work in class, so don't count on class time to get your work done.
"And now, the groups will be…"
I no longer like this teacher. Quirky teachers should all burn in hell. I only hope I'll get people who will have enough sense to leave me alone in my group. Please God, let me wind up with a group where I can go unnoticed.
"And the next group will be Kall Su, -" Extra emphasis on the Su. Predictably the students laugh. Retards. Just wait, once I conquer the world and turn you all into slaves you won't be laughing. "Ashes Ney, -" Cheerleading airhead. "Gara-" Jock. "Yohko Note-" Goody-two-shoes. " And Lucié Len Len." Adonis. All the girls moan out loud in discontent. I moan right along with them, but for different reasons. There really is no God, or if there is, He has one sick sense of humor. "Alright, why don't you get into your groups." No sooner do the words leave her mouth that everyone is up and moving. Out of some common agreement we gather around Luciés desk.
"We're almost out of time," says the redhead next to me. Yohko is her name. "Does anyone have any ideas how we should go about doing this?"
Everyone sort of looks blankly at each other. "We could-" I falter when everyone whips their head in my direction to look at me. I hate being the center of attention. "We could write it as if it were an RPG. We're each in charge of a character, controlling they do throughout the story. We can change point of views also…" I trailed off uncertainly. They're quiet for a bit. Why can't they just say yes or no and put me out of my misery?
Suddenly Lucié bursts out laughing. "That's a great idea, everyone okay with it?" Everyone nods and I feel like laughing I'm so happy, but of course I just quirk my upper lip just a bit. "Now where to meet," he went on, "Gara's place is out of the question seeing as how he lives on the South Shore, Ashes your place is too small to work in, Yohko your dad wouldn't appreciate us, what about you Kall?"
"I live in Montreal West, close to here. My place is big enough for us to work in. And my name is Kall Su."
"All right, we'll meet at Kall's place." I frown at that, but he just ignores me. "Is everyone free Saturday?" I'm actually not, but I could talk to my employer about it. He's a nice man and will probably let me be. Everyone else said that they were free as well. "Well then, we'll meet on Saturday at noon at Kall's place. See you then." With that the bell rings and he leaves.
I give my address to the others before grabbing my bag and leaving for the top floor. Once there I go out from the fire escape, sit down on the steps, pull out my MP3 player and sketchpad, and proceed to sketch. I spend my half hour break there.
My next class was history; turns out Yohko's in that class as well. We're going to be learning about the 19th century in France. Next up was French. The teacher just talked for the duration of the class. Lucié's in my computer class, but other than a nod of our heads, we didn't acknowledge each other. We're going to be learning about html, yet another year where I won't be learning anything in this class.
After my computer class was lunch, then we were expected to show up in the auditorium for a welcome back speech. I decide to skip it and go to work. I work at a restaurant, and the elderly couple who own it never mind when I show up out of the blue to work. I get home around nine at night. I already ate at the restaurant, so I go straight up to my room to play with my computer a bit and practice my piano playing. I eventually go to bed.
One day down, 179 to go.
Chapter One: Welcome to Hell
The voices of the announcers emanating from my radio-alarm clock tore me from my blissful slumber. They were announcing the day's weather: sunny and warm, not a cloud in the sky, a day to be spent outside. And of course it was my first day of class.
I half-hazardly make my way to my shower thanking the gods once again that I don't have to put up with my annoying half sister in this early in the morning. The 15-year-old midget is always reminding me how I'm the black sheep of the family, born out of wedlock of an unknown father. She's always claiming that I'm a devil-spawn, something I am prone to agree with. There's only one thing my mother ever did that I am grateful for, and that is when she renovated the attic so that I could live up here. She probably only did it so that I wouldn't contaminate my younger sisters, but I got the privacy I crave so dearly, so I'm not complaining. She also gives me quite a bit of money each month, probably so that she doesn't have to feel guilty for pretending that I don't exist most of the time.
The burning hot water cascades down onto my body, washing away the remaining tension in my muscles. And boy was I tense. Not only is today my first day of class, it's my first day of class in sec.5, my last year of high school. After washing and drying, I put on my school uniform. This would be the last year I would have to wear it. Grey ironed pants, white dress shirt, navy blue tie, a jacket of the same navy blue with the school's emblem on the left, and a pair of black leather shoes: that is my uniform. The same goddamned thing for the last four years…
After a quick breakfast (toast and orange juice) spent listening to my sister prattle on about her expectations for today, I bike the five blocks separating my house and school. I arrive early to class, but I want to snatch a seat in the back and those are generally the first seats to go, so I had no choice. Checking my schedule to make sure that I'm headed in the right direction, I let out a heavy sight. The first hour-and-a-half of my Wednesdays for the following ten months will be spent in English class. I never really understood this school's obsession with starting the year on a Wednesday…
When I walk into class I'm surprised to find another student already there, and not just any student, but Lucié Lenlen. He plays a staring role in the fantasies of the female half of Royal West's student body, as well as in my own. His long blond hair is so pale it's almost white; his eyes are like sapphires and reflect his every emotion. He's tall and radiates pride and power. What's so great about him is probably the fact that he doesn't let himself be defined by any of the "cliques" at school. He's good in sports, but he's not a jock; he's smart, but he's not a nerd either; he's good looking, but he's not vain or an airhead. But he's still popular, and therefore hard to approach if you're not popular as well, which I'm not.
With a nod in his direction I make my way to the seat on the opposite side of the class than where he is. I have one of the two best seats in the class, Lucié having the other. In the left back corner of the class, I could see everyone and not worry about those behind me. The windows are on the back wall of the class, so I'll get plenty of sunlight; unfortunately it also prevents everyone from staring outside.
I wake up when the first bell rings, announcing that classes would be starting in fifteen minutes. The classroom is full of noise and energy. Friends are seeing each other for the first time in over two months. Amidst all of this noise I scowl, can't they keep it down?
When the English teacher arrives, the other students make their way to their seats. The teacher is a short, plump lady with a fake English accent and an endless supply of energy. This will be the third year I have her as an English teacher, so I consider myself a veteran of her quirky behavior. She passed out our agendas so that we can copy our schedules into them while she takes attendance. I diligently set about the task of copying down my schedule in my best writing, waiting for what happens every year.
"Kall?" The teacher asks when she finally gets to my name, trying to find my blond head in the class.
"Kall Su." I replied without even raising my head.
"What?" She asks perplexed. After two years you'd think she'd finally catch on, but nooo.
"My name is Kall Su, not Kall." I say with extra emphasis on the Su. I really hate it when people call me "Kall." I don't know why, but just can't stand it.
"Okay…Kall Su is here…" and she goes on with the list. Sometimes the class bursts out laughing when she mispronounces a name. She then follows up with the traditional welcome back speech, during which I occupy myself by sketching my crucifixion. Then I heard it, "This year I'm going to try something new," Bad. Very bad. When a teacher tries to change their teaching methods, it generally results in something disastrous for the guinea pigs. "This project will last all year," Oh goody, this way the torture can last all year long. Why make it a quick death when you can extend the pain? "The class will be divided up into groups of five," Will the good news never cease? "Starting next week you will be working towards writing a book. You will be handing in a chapter roughly every two weeks. The subject of your book will be up to you. I want an outline for the first chapter for in two weeks today. I will divide you into groups; stop your groaning, I'm the one deciding whom you will be working with. Once I've named all of the groups, you will be allowed to start working. This will be one of the only chances you'll get to work in class, so don't count on class time to get your work done.
"And now, the groups will be…"
I no longer like this teacher. Quirky teachers should all burn in hell. I only hope I'll get people who will have enough sense to leave me alone in my group. Please God, let me wind up with a group where I can go unnoticed.
"And the next group will be Kall Su, -" Extra emphasis on the Su. Predictably the students laugh. Retards. Just wait, once I conquer the world and turn you all into slaves you won't be laughing. "Ashes Ney, -" Cheerleading airhead. "Gara-" Jock. "Yohko Note-" Goody-two-shoes. " And Lucié Len Len." Adonis. All the girls moan out loud in discontent. I moan right along with them, but for different reasons. There really is no God, or if there is, He has one sick sense of humor. "Alright, why don't you get into your groups." No sooner do the words leave her mouth that everyone is up and moving. Out of some common agreement we gather around Luciés desk.
"We're almost out of time," says the redhead next to me. Yohko is her name. "Does anyone have any ideas how we should go about doing this?"
Everyone sort of looks blankly at each other. "We could-" I falter when everyone whips their head in my direction to look at me. I hate being the center of attention. "We could write it as if it were an RPG. We're each in charge of a character, controlling they do throughout the story. We can change point of views also…" I trailed off uncertainly. They're quiet for a bit. Why can't they just say yes or no and put me out of my misery?
Suddenly Lucié bursts out laughing. "That's a great idea, everyone okay with it?" Everyone nods and I feel like laughing I'm so happy, but of course I just quirk my upper lip just a bit. "Now where to meet," he went on, "Gara's place is out of the question seeing as how he lives on the South Shore, Ashes your place is too small to work in, Yohko your dad wouldn't appreciate us, what about you Kall?"
"I live in Montreal West, close to here. My place is big enough for us to work in. And my name is Kall Su."
"All right, we'll meet at Kall's place." I frown at that, but he just ignores me. "Is everyone free Saturday?" I'm actually not, but I could talk to my employer about it. He's a nice man and will probably let me be. Everyone else said that they were free as well. "Well then, we'll meet on Saturday at noon at Kall's place. See you then." With that the bell rings and he leaves.
I give my address to the others before grabbing my bag and leaving for the top floor. Once there I go out from the fire escape, sit down on the steps, pull out my MP3 player and sketchpad, and proceed to sketch. I spend my half hour break there.
My next class was history; turns out Yohko's in that class as well. We're going to be learning about the 19th century in France. Next up was French. The teacher just talked for the duration of the class. Lucié's in my computer class, but other than a nod of our heads, we didn't acknowledge each other. We're going to be learning about html, yet another year where I won't be learning anything in this class.
After my computer class was lunch, then we were expected to show up in the auditorium for a welcome back speech. I decide to skip it and go to work. I work at a restaurant, and the elderly couple who own it never mind when I show up out of the blue to work. I get home around nine at night. I already ate at the restaurant, so I go straight up to my room to play with my computer a bit and practice my piano playing. I eventually go to bed.
One day down, 179 to go.