Chapter 4: Falling
Something tugged at the sleeve of May's shirt. Out of reflex, she closed her hand into a tight fist. This time instead of gripping the warm flesh of a first term-er that was making fun of her, Mary's hand came into contact with a thick, cold, iron pole. With numbing shock, Mary opened her eyes, and confirmed that what had happened three seconds ago wasn't a terrible nightmare. She was hanging by one hand, off a torch-pole that held the beginning of the year welcoming flame. The welcoming flame was lit out of a window, to welcome new arrivals at the founding of the school. But when the new head was appointed, the torch wasn't lit anymore. Problem was that this torch was isolated from the view of the dorms and the teacher's quarters. They faced the now empty classrooms. First logical thing Mary did was swung her other hand up onto the pole as well. She dangled, desperate to get her feet on a firm surface before her hands slipped.
" Mary?" the bewildered voice came through a window to her left, and Mary craned her neck to see the person. David. David Covey, the boy she was working with in history on the very lame project. The only one in fact that had an actual good head on his shoulders.
" A little help?" Mary asked in a strained voice.
"Right." David scrambled out onto the ledge, his hands grasping the stone carvings of the building. Hooking his arms around Mary's figure, David pulled her into the classroom just as the head and a numerous amount of teachers piled in.
" There!" one screamed. " She's the girl!"
"My god!" whispered another. "That boy saved her life."
The Head, Madame Blake, stood stony-faced clutching her heart.
" Mistress Tresanda, I would like you to escort these people to my office." She said turning to the gasping French professor.
"No, on second though, escort only Miss Quella to my office." She added sweeping out of the room, her hand to her head.
" Oui Madame." The French teacher exclaimed to thin air. "Monsieur vould you follow your original schedule, and go to ze 'all? Merci." She dismissed David with a wave of her small hand. " Mademoiselle, vould you pleaz follov me?"
Mary followed the mistress to the Madame's office. The swivel chair was occupied by a small Head and faced the window.
" You are dismissed, Adélaide." She said in a cool voice, and apparently they professor sensed danger so she didn't insist on remaining behind. She'll find out exactly what we talked about, Mary thought, mark my works exactly. "Miss Quella!" the old woman had a tremor in her voice. " You are a disgrace to the school of Stillwater! What in the world did you think you were doing out there?" She demanded swiveling around to face Mary.
" I… I…" Mary stammered avoiding the eyes of the
Madame. "I just fell… There was a sound that caught me unaware…"
But the Madame wasn't listening. " What you did scarred half of the people in this school! Do you relive that you may have been dead it Mr. Covey hadn't been there? Is this how far you will go to prove that Peter Pan isn't real? Will you just live up to the fact that you mother was a foolish little girl and she made up a story to cover up her actions!"
