Masquerade

Shoes padding uncertainly across the hallway. She thought she should have worn heels, but after her last profession, she was reluctant to do so. That was not an image she was willing to convey.

Uncertain, she had worn trousers and an almost buttoned up shirt, with a grey jumper pulled over the top. It was dull; it was uninspiring; it was normal. They were not the colourful clothes that she was used to wearing, the ones that barely covered her body. She liked that they were dull. Nobody would think to pay attention to her.

Pushing the door open, she stepped into the classroom and put down her satchel, filled with notebooks and worksheets that she had already procured. It was her first day and she would not be underprepared. Running a hand over her hair, she stopped at the hairband, still amazed at the length it had grown to. Once a dark brown, she had dyed it auburn. If that wasn't enough, she had grown it out, as if someone would suddenly recognise her. Impossible. She was no longer in London; she was in Manchester now. If anybody recognised her, it would reflect just as badly on them.

Unpacking her things, symmetrically and neatly on her desk, she sighed a breath of relief, hands coming to rest on her hips. There was a knock at the door and a murmur of noise. The students were already lining up, impatient to enter. She hurried to let them in. Some walked past without bothering to look at her and others scrutinised her more carefully. Licking her lips, a nervous habit, she walked back to her desk and seized the register.

"I haven't seen you before, Miss."

She turned to face the young boy, her fingers gripping onto the plastic clipboard. "Yes, I'm new."

The accent didn't seem to fit. But she reminded herself that it did- she had made sure that not one part of her could be faulted. It matched the persona.

"What's ya name then?" he probed.

"My name is Miss Mason."

He stared at her for a moment longer and she wondered if he knew her secret. Somehow. That he knew where she had been and where she might possibly end up. Chest heaving, she thought that the mask had slipped; he could see her for who she truly was.

But then he turned around and sat down. Releasing a bout of breath, she went to the desk and hurriedly sat down. She thought it best to complete the register there; it felt as if her legs were about to fail her. Still, not bad for her first day- her first class. Rachel Mason was hardly a developed adult; she was learning with them. Where better to learn than at a school?

I'm back! Doing a Masters was way more hardcore than I expected- this past year has been insane. I'm actually still working on my dissertation, but I've nearly finished so I've suddenly got a lot more time on my hands. So...here I am! I came back to finish these.

I've missed writing for WR. I can't wait to get back to it; I hope all of you have been okay and well!

Also, just to make it clear: This is a continuation of the prompts I was previously writing. This is technically prompt 94- it kept glitching when I tried to upload it to the previous story I had created, so I assumed I'd reached my chapter limit. This isn't a new list or a start-over; this continues from the last prompt done, which was Gunshot. I wanted to add this in case anyone was unsure. The last prompts I did are now considered complete and I will not be adding any more there, solely because I can't seem to add any more chapters. This will be where I'm uploading my work from now on.