The art teacher, completing a leisurely stroll around the room, peered over the girl's shoulder. "Wonderful, Cassandra!" she exclaimed. "You capture your anger so beautifully!"
Since when was anger beautiful? Cassie wondered. She didn't see beauty in the black mess before her. She saw death, hatred, a world that would never be the same again. And at the bottom of the abstract abyss, somehow she could make out her mother's face...
With a startled cry, Cassie grabbed the painting and smashed it down on the edge of the table. The wooden frame split with a sickening crack, and the canvas tore in two. A murmur of voices surrounded her as she pushed her way out the door and ran down the hall.
She pulled the bathroom door open and was greeted with a cloud of smoke, stinging her eyes. A muffled curse was heard from behind one of the stalls, followed by the hiss of a cigarette being extinguished in the toilet. Cassie leaned over the sink and rested her forehead on the mirror, tears threatening to fall. A girl in a too-tight miniskirt emerged, the scent of nicotine emanating like a perfume. Cassie watched the reflection as the girl reapplied her lipstick, not bothering to acknowledge Cassie's presence. The girl left without a word, and Cassie took advantage of her solitude by sobbing like a baby.
Life's not fair, went the old adage. Well, maybe she could accept that if it hadn't been her mother. Two mothers in seven years seemed like someone's idea of a sick joke. Maybe God had a sense of humor after all.
A shudder that might have been a laugh shook her body. God? What god? The one who had destroyed her planet and killed her family? The ones that threatened Sam's life and took her mother's away? Those gods? If some all-powerful being really was in control of the universe, he was doing a pretty half-assed job.
The bell rang. It might have been motivation for Cassie to get going had she still believed that school was worth her effort. But right now, she was beyond caring.
She briefly considered returning to the art room to retrieve her books, but quickly decided that it wasn't worth running into her teacher. The last thing she needed right now as a well-meaning but nosy teacher poking into her personal problems only to find that her whole life was a matter of national security. Besides, it wasn't like she was planning on doing any of her homework anyway. Hell, she thought, why even go to the next four periods at all? She was tired of everyone pretending to care, apologizing as thought enough 'I'm sorry's could make it all better.
She splashed her face with cold water and made her way into the hall. In the crowd of students hurrying to their classes, she was fairly invisible. But a moment later when the bell rang and everyone ducked into their classrooms, she was alone again.
Sometimes alone was a good feeling.