I Believe
Chapter 1: Stupidity
As she stepped out of the showers; her wet chestnut colored hair spilled over her shoulders in neat wisps.
Curly and untamable, her locks intertwined with one another so that only one sort of strong conditioner
was able to make them look somewhat presentable, but the girl didn't bother using it although her teachers
advised it several times. Peeking out into the corridor she stepped out into the older boy's hall, which to
her disadvantage, was the one she had to go through in order to not get caught by a roaming teacher and
be sent off to detention. Rewrapping her towel securely around her body, and cursing her stupidity at
forgetting her clothes at the same time, she made a dash across the hallways to the other end. The girl was called
Mary, Bloody Mary. The cruel nickname was given to her because she was an outsider to the world of believing
in fairy tales. As foolish as it may sound it was the whole and entire truth, and it suited fourteen-year-old Mary
very much. She reasoned that if the other students in her school only excepted people that sucked up to this tale
nonsense as teens, and believed in it, she was not going to fall under the same spell. She also thought that magic
was a foolish thing to even think was real because there was no visual proof for it. Two more factors supported
this name's founding. The fact that Mary was a tomboy and that if you looked closely at her eyes, you could see
a blood red brim around her black pupil. Now she was hurrying along the stairway that was concealed behind the
giant marble statue of a winking man. The rickety spiral structure led to all the dorms and hallways of the Stillwater
Academy. The hard wooden steps of the stairs were probably not very stable, but students took their chances as
often as they had to go down to their classes. Slowly and fervently Mary moved along the long hallway stopping
every now and them to listen for footsteps and chattering of patrollers. Mary quietly entered her room careful
not to wake the girl sleeping on the bed in the corner. Mary's roommate wasn't considered weird if anything
she was an average person in the social groups. The girl's pale face reflected the moonlight that spilled out of the
window and her eyelids fluttered as Mary stumbled, tripping over a sleeping bundle she later recognized as her
own cat. Shooting a glance at the sleeping girl, Mary picked up her cat and carried it over to her bed and drooped
it on the fluffy green covers. Thinking about her roommate made her shiver and she pulled a dusty book from
underneath her bed. Mary had no liking for the mystery of a girl, who didn't bond with anyone too closely for
no reason, after all they weren't quite friends and the girl also considered Mary foolish for not believing in a certain
story, the one in the dusty volume in her hands, called… Peter Pan.
