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-Chapter 1- You Are Led- A lullful silence drifted on the horizon. The snow kissed alpine mountains glittered softly like dust shaken from angel wings. Glittering pastel blues and lilacs. Enormous peaks reaching upwards to the heavens, snow storms blowing like star showers. Running, diving. Stars- Soaring upwards, a thick blanket of rolling illuminated clouds, completely engulfing the evening sky. Speed. Cutting downwards, skimming the tops of frosted pine trees, lights falling into shadows. Blinded by tears. Diamond encrusted valleys of pure white snow dancing with sparkling frost. Plowing through thin silvery mists, fingers outstretched. Mirrorlike streams wound around the crystal landscape. Catching one final reflection. Purple. Stars. Despair. Then darkness. The soft melodic ringing of a railway crossroad bell echoed throughout the hills. Peace. Heaven. Perfection. Thundering heartbeat. Sweat, blood, tears. Screeching mid flight to a stop. Head in hands. Madness. Breath. Was this the bottom? Could you go no further? Delicate flurries of snow caught the magical breeze like a shower of glitter before spiraling gently to the powder like ground. Everything here was breathtaking, so pure... Unfurling towering liquid black wings. The landscapes color darkening with shadows. A sweet enchanting lullaby whispered into the wind. The dreamy broken voice singing with a soul chilling sadness as its thin, elegant form hovered over a twinkling glassy lake. A huge ripple of... blackness casting into the water. At the feet of the night. The tide shifting without direction. The figure's large questioning eyes gazed sorrowfully at its twisting darkening reflection on the waters surface. Why couldn't he touch perfection without ruining it. Even mirrors were cursed. Suddenly the song and reflection were lost as the presence let out a stifled cry; one desperate wish consuming its entire body.
...Even when i scream you wont hear me... Then, in one crazy, final attempt to cleanse himself of his pointless existence, he plunged straight into the freezing depths. Down and down he drifted, the water getting darker and darker. The night sky seeming to follow him. Stars sinking. Huge inky wings bleeding out into the cold water. Falling like a broken shadowy angel. Some truth. Soon his small lungs would collapse for the want of air and he would be gone. Everything would be gone. Nobody would mourn him and to some his death would mean... nothing. "Nothing" The cruel word echoed in his fading mind. It summed him up in one go. As he slowly fell, his painted lips mouthed a silent prayer. A pain in his empty heart. The cause of everything wrong. How ironic. The end of his words spoken in his mind. "...
forever...together...yours...protect ........me... The night whispered a dying farewell and slowly closed his weary eyes; waiting for his grim fate. Down, down down...........deeper and deeper. It ended, everything ended, Sleeping somewhere cold.
.... -how can you see into my eyes like open doors... leading you down into my core... where i've become so alone... without a soul.... your spirit's sleeping somewhere cold... until you find and bring me... here... back home- A growing noisy static chorus of alarm clocks, radios, televisions. And so it began. Another day. My other life.
"TWANG!!! IT'S 6:30AM!!" Lynne Triplett jumped with fright as her talking alarm clock rattled out its daily message. In an almost instant reaction her hand shot off the pillow to where the alarms 'off' button should have been. Instead she found a half eaten peanut butter sandwich and her paintbrush water tub. The clock continued to do its annoying impression of what sounded like a chicken being strangled as the tub went flying off her cluttered bedside cabinet onto the floor along with a shower of earrings and candy wrappers. Lynne panicking, not quite sure how much artwork she'd dumped down there lastnight, misjudged the space between her lamp and her GameGear portable TV, she now had a sandwich stuck to her elbow and a silver antenna stuck in her ear. She painfully grimaced as the sandwich dropped from her arm and landed with a faint splash on the disaster area below. "AHWW! NUTZ!" cursed Lynne hanging out her bed upside down. She found the alarmclock soaking wet with scummy brown water and covered with pencil shavings. Rusty old paintbrushes rolled about the uncarpeted floorboards. Her most expensive brush rolling into a gap in the boards and falling into oblivion. "God dammit! That cost me 15 quid! Stupid floor!" whined the girl half falling on her head scrambling across the room. Lynne crouched over where the paintbrush had disappeared and tried to see if it was still savable. Jabbing a ruler into the dusty shadows. Prodding something that mortifyingly felt alive and cringing as it scuttled deeper into the darkness of the ceiling space. All she could see below her feet was cobwebs and water pipes. She frowned, brushed off her dusty hands on her nightgown and stood up. "Good morning TRiPPY..." the artist sighed heavily pulling a tiny splinter from her thumb.
Back upstairs Lynne Triplett turned on her CD player, turning the volume up a bit. She pressed play and skipped a few tracks to 'i am i feel' on her Alishas Attic album. TRiPPY sat down on the edge of her bed. Nodding her head briskly in time to the music in some hope of waking herself up a bit more. She yawned loudly still trying to ignore her noisy alarmclock and stretched her arms. Picking up her Sonic plushie and sitting it upright on her pillow. "I am -i feel- like- ..." A pile of wet artwork caught the singing girls eye "CRAP!" Lynne bent down and frustratedly tried to save the ink drawing she'd spent hours on lastnight. No such luck, all the black ink had bled onto the sheets under it wreaking her pencil sketches for a comic she had been working on. "Nooooohoohoooo! Why did it have to be THAT drawing? I just finished it! God i hate my friggin life!" she inwardly screamed to herself. Watching bluish black water drip from the corner of the page. Sulkily she stared at the faded expression of the character on the page. The blurred smile on its face turning into a sad frown as the water trickled down over the ink. "I'm sorry, i'm a clutz..... something tells me today is going to be one of those days. I'd probably be better off going back to sleep..." Tears welled in her eyes. Quickly the girl dismissed them and rubbed at her blurry eyes. Sniffing. Lynne gave a tired sigh and carefully placed the sheet of paper at the window in some hope of it drying out. Crabbily she paused to look out the rainy window at the ravens in the trees across from her house. They clung to the windy trees like shredded black bin bags snagged on the branches. Cawing and bobbing. TRiPPY leaned her forehead against the cool slightly misted glass and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Listening to the birds. The clock suddenly came into her hearing range again, so she slowly leant to her left and scooped up the offending object from the floor. The thought of throwing it off a wall or out the window seemed all very welcoming to her, but she figured this one was the most reliable one she owned and she had already killed about 5. As annoying as it was, it hadn't broken down yet. Whether that was a good or a bad thing she didn't know. The small clock, it's AA batteries nearly dead -but still hanging in there- carried on making a hellishly irritating rooster noise. "TWANG!!! IT'S 6:58AM!!" "Bei weitem besser!" grumbled the sleepy artist as she pressed the grey plastic button down switching the awful contraption off for another day. School didn't start till half eight so she could lie around for a little longer. Or with any luck until she fell back asleep again and accidentally slept through the entire week. She'd miss school. Not that she'd care. Propping up her warm but now soggy pillows she tried to get comfy again. Lying on her back on top of the quilt she stared absent mindedly at the ceiling. Lynne Triplett was 16 years old, your usual run of the mill angsting artistic teenager. About 5ft 8, 6ft if you counted the stupidly big shoes she loved wearing. A chubby but happy 12.6stone. Full of hormones and dreams and the occasional rant. Near black bottom length messy hair with a bright red fringe and bangs. Size 8 feet. Freckles hidden under crappy acne. Small ears- Big boobs and a life crisis at every turn. Lynne pouted. Her red tartan nightclothes were twisted all over the place and her hair stood up at one side defying gravity. She dreaded the day she'd have to wake up next to some poor guy looking like this. Lynne ran a tired hand through her tuggy long hair, pulling out the remainder of the braids she was wearing from yesterday. "Awwwwiieee good morning Lucy'fur!" A small grey Persian cat jumped up onto her bed and sat at her feet. It stared at her from huge orange eyes. The girl leaned forward lazily and patted it on the head. "Sorry, Derek can feed you for a change, i'm too out of it this morning... I had another bad dream.... and...i... oh why am i talking to a cat?" mumbled the teen, chewing on her fingernail. It was the done thing in this household to regularly check ones sanity. The cat trotted up to Lynne's face and purred loudly. "Lucy, go bug DeZ." As if understanding TRiPPY's grumble the Persian turned tail and jumped down off the bed. Jingling out the door. Looking to her left she noticed that her mums single bed was unoccupied. Strange... hmmm. Oh yeah! Her mum was sleeping over at her aunt Cathy's before embarking on the long bus journey down south to the metropolis London then on to Turkey for a 'first time abroad' well earned holiday. London...Lynne had always wanted to visit the Sega world at the trocodero. But the madam was always skint. No job- a 'Freelance Cartoonist' Translated into TRiPPY lingo ment-' I enjoy drawing cartoons and don't intend to get out of bed- leave me alone'. She'd get some sort of decent job when she left high school. The looming thought of working retail made her physically ill. She and her brother were used to looking after themselves home alone. The only thing she was rubbish at was cooking meals. Anything TRiPPY cooked normally ended up as ashes. And there was always the groceries to buy, which her and Derek argued over, or dishes to wash. Still, she wasn't going to complain as she had the house to herself for two whole weeks! She began to think of how many drunken house parties her white jeaned friend Laura Philip otherwise known to her as DC, would have in her situation. Probably far too many. Her other friend Andrea 'ANDiE' Campbell on the other hand wouldn't let anyone into a free house. She had expensive carpets and the kind of reclining chairs you'd die for. Gadget girl:) Not that Lynne was some kind of Alcoholic. She hated drinking and always had better things to do. Drinking was pointless. Nothing to show for at the end of it apart from a hangover and some useless phone numbers. She preferred to sit and paint in her own little world. She didn't care if she never grew up and did what other teens her age did. Hanging about street corners smoking joints and eating chippies. Having about 6 guys a night. Driving about like a crazy in her own second hand banger car with the biggest chatty sound system in the world. Boy racers yetch. Crawling home from a pub at night. Being thrown out the house by her mum. Going to 'Walkers' and raving it up with 11 year old chavs with mini skirts up their asses and knee high boots in minus degree weather. She sighed. She just didn't care... "WE
ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE N-" Lynne cringed hearing the
thumping baseline of one of thousands of Happy hardcore rave tapes crash
through the house foundations. Damn! She'd forgotten quite how annoying
her pain in the neck 13 year old brother- Derek- the divine DeZ- Dj
dexy- whatever his nickname was nowadays, actually was. Urgh! Oh well!,
oh joy. At least he wouldn't complain about the volume of her music.
That was the job of the annoying people who lived above her. Above her head hung a large red and pink dream catcher. She frowned. Lynne was sick of taking this thing down off the ceiling all the time. Her aunt had bought it for her birthday one year and her mum insisted on having it dangle over Lynne's bed. TRiP didn't like them at all. So her mum done it on purpose even more to annoy her. The thought of having dreams, evil or not, filtered by this gaudy thing over her head at night made her pretty angry. So it would apparently catch all her bad dreams? All the monsters? All the nightmarish things running riot in her head? Well, she'd need an industrial sea trawler net for that, not a little dangly thing with some feathers. It was about as much use as a crucifix in Hell. Amusedly Lynne gave a short puff upwards, watching the long colored feathers and ribbons swing around. "Stupid idea" Take a look around your bedroom. You have posters right? Yeah so did Lynne, big huge ones that took up half her walls. Lynne smiled at her attempt of homeliness. Paintings and posters of blue hedgehogs, red echidnas, floating islands, Sailormoon, The Beatles, The Prodigy, mechanical monsters and Japanese anime stared back at her. She felt strangely uneasy. Her artwork was the only way she could toss out more clutter from her crazy imagination. She would go through phases of adding new stuff to her walls, taking down all the sun damaged artwork and replacing it with fresh stuff. A lot of the artwork on her walls was unfinished. She was a slow painter. Easily distracted by new work. The posters certainly improved the non existent decor though but... hmphhh. If only life could be that good. She'd love to have ankle length pink hair and wear skimpy outrageous clothes, well more outrageous than usual, with matching knee high boots and neon lashes like all the manga girls in her video collection and comic books. But society in general would probably send her straight to Leith Docks or a padded cell. And ohhh- to have a house straight from the movies, a huge driveway with 3 unused red custom-paint-job sports cars and a pink jeep, a huge empty minimalist livingroom, the sprawling Californian marble staircase and the breakfast bar in the fitted kitchen. Someone else to do her hair for her in the morning and her dream job. But her life just wasn't like that. Life in general just wasn't like that. Well even though lets admit whenever we look to the next person to back up that theory they always seem far more better off than us or have something we'd crave for but they leave to gather dust. It's the law of the world. A good life, one where she didn't have to worry about getting into debt or not being able to do what she loved. Not really a materialistic world but just plain peace of mind. Tho- she wouldn't turn down a pink jeep. People at school constantly picked on her because of her 'obsession' with the computer game company Sega. People had even quoted 'unhealthy' obsession. But who cared? At the end of the day it was Lynne's ambition to be a Sega artist when she was older. If it meant putting up with casual gamers, snide little Sony Kappa fans and people who thought all computer games were created by a japanese bloke called Bob who also created Pokemon in his spare time, then she'd just continue whatever it was that she did. Having to listen to her mother harp on about 'drawing other peoples characters' made her practically dent-proof from opinions anyway. TRiPPY was a blatant 'systemist' normally much to everyone else's displeasure. Sega was this brilliant thing that she'd always known and believed in, it was her life and she wasn't ashamed to go shout it from the rooftops. She wasn't about to give up her dream for anyone. Even one of the Directors had told her to never give up her dreams. So, it was never going to happen. Rubbing
the sleepy black grit from her eyes she dragged herself from her bed.
On the way through to the bathroom she picked up her old grey Sonic
schoolbag then slammed her fist at her brothers door. He probably didn't
hear. Derek was the only person Lynne knew who could: But he was good company if anything. His room was bright green. His favourite color and football team. "Monnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnkeeeeeeeeey maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagicccccccc" He wailed tunelessly through the door. TRiPPY rolled her eyes."Ohhh boy". Locking
the bathroom door behind her she slung her badly 'in need of an iron'
clothes on the towel rack. The decor in the bathroom was also half done,
her mum had changed her mind about the color halfway through and stopped.
So it was a lovely shade of bright orange and blue. Hellish in the morning
with a headache. Rain pelted down the dark window. "AGH JEEBUS!!" Lynne jumped backwards. Her black 'waterproof' mascara had ran down her face- giving her a morbid 'crow' look. Her eyes were bloodshot and pink. Black tearstains trailed down to her chin. She had been crying in her sleep again. Oh great, another shrink field day. As usual far too bone idle to actually wash it off before sleeping. Lynne scratched her head. This'd be another one for the book then. She looked deeper into the mirror and frowned slightly rubbing a black smear from her cheek. Everything here annoyed her lately, so did her messy cheap makeup. It took about half a bottle of cleanser to get rid of. The scruffy girl turned on the rusty taps and watched as the sink began to fill. The sound of the water calming to her. Almost still in her head from her dream. She sleepily closed her eyes and let her hand run through the icy water. Feeling numb. Her mind trying to regain it's choice of reality. Was this real, was she asleep, was she in between? Did it even matter... The water took her away for a few seconds. Just listening to the noise. Making her think. Think about her dreams. Her mind. Feeling the ebb and flow of what the mind was made of, water, around her outstretched hand. Maybe water had some mind of its own. So much of the world depended on it being there. And so much of the human body was made up with it. So if the brain was mostly water did it have any connection with dreams and thought... and.... Tiny gathering bubbles beside the plug chain floated to the surface as Lynne drew a square at the bottom with her finger. Water. Dark and cold -and... and... a- "Forgive me..." Lynne gasping lurched forward as an indescribable feeling of sadness swept through her body. Like a sudden concentrated emotion sweeping though every fibre of her being. Diluting. Then fading. "Wh..w... what the hell..?" What was she feeling? Her clammy pale skin crept as her eyes began to blur with a strangers tears. A
cold icy tear fell from her eye, streaking down her face then falling
audibly into the water below. The ripple like a hammer in her thoughts.
Shakily she gripped the sink to steady herself. "What IS this?" She winced falling to her knees. Reaching out for something to steady herself with but not quite quick enough. Feeling nothing but empty space around her. Almost suffocating. Hearing the rush of water in her ears. Heartbeat thundering. The devastating feeling that comes with losing something; or..or someone. "Lynne... Lynne... you're cracking up... stop crying- please- just... pleasee-" TRiPPY sat on the floor in a flood of tears, trying to somewhat regain her sanity and failing. Spluttering into her hands, cradling her head and shaking like a leaf. "Why do i have to be so ... so - Then it stopped. Feeling gone. Nothing. Like someone had turned on a clock again. Un freeze framed. Reality like a slap in the face. The girl sharply looked around herself feeling a mild panic set in. Everything around her was suddenly so vivid and clear. And real. There. Just her alone, in the bathroom. Water beginning to run over the sink edge and onto the floor. Frantic she pulled herself to her feet and rubbed her wet face. What had Wh? Confusedly the girl composed herself pushing back her tangled fringe. Once more she looked in the mirror. She
felt normal again. She was okay. -Eyes are the window to the soul.- Lynne turned off the tap. Yeah....Lynne Triplett sure felt empty today.
Lynne had a few true friends, a few admirers and a good few people who used her as a 'Trophy friend'. They'd come, they'd go, some stuck around, others spat on her in the street, spread rumors. Even her best friends often didn't understand her. They guessed, badly, and advised as they seen fit. But nobody ever 'got' it. Nobody ever stopped to give her a hug and just listen without opinions. Everyone seemed so cautious and close guarded. Almost like they were hiding their feelings and intentions at times. It drove Lynne mad. No one could ever understand.... As
Lynne walked up the steep windy Craigs Road towards the large grey curved
block of glass and concrete that was Craigmount High she kicked the
odd used snowball into the gutter. Today was really chilly. It had been
snowing and raining on and off every day for the past week. It was only
september. Dreary weather. Heavy dark rain clouds hanging low in the
sky. Making the roof of the school at the top of the hill vanish into
a hazy eerie fog. There was a bright white glow behind the mist coming
from one of the roof spotlights. They had all sorts of stuff on the
roof. Weather reading equipment, security lights, cables, satellite
dishes, radio ariel's, mobile phone masts. But this light was used to
warn off airplanes approaching the runways not to land on top of the
school. That made the girl chuckle. A biplane landing in history class
would make her day. Watching the street lamps turn off one by one leading down the hill she smiled. A small black crow perched itself on the wire fence to her left. Eyeing her curiously before flying off startled by bus headlights. Her eyes nipped as she looked at the warm red slice of sun. The centerpiece that dominated the distant landscape was the grand Edinburgh Castle beside three high church spires and the tip of the tall fairytale like Scott monument. They reached for the sky like a natural living piece of the stony dark landscape. Lynne closed her eyes as she was blinded by the sun emerging fully from behind Arthur's Seat - one of the two nearby extinct volcanoes. She sighed and felt for a moment like she didn't have a care in the world. She could always rely on the unnoticed beauty of the city to cheer her up. Her home. She pushed a strand of her red hair behind her ear. Peace and Qui- WHAM! The stunned artist yelled and fell backwards to the icy tarmac as a brick hard ball of ice hit her hard between the eyes. The exaggerated Scottish accents of spotty little first graders laughed hysterically from across the wide road. Lynne jumped to her feet seething, before she was ran over by an approaching school minibus. She felt like such an idiot. "TRIPLETT YAE' SPACEMANNNN" One of the kids hollered, stooping down to pick up more ice. Lynne grabbed her school bag about to launch it at them in anger. The group of boys had seen her reaction and had since legged it up the road. She swayed tearfully on her feet, holding her grazed elbow. Feeling the emptiness all around her. "LITTLE GODAMN FREAKS! IF I SEE YOU AGAIN I'LL KILL YAE!" Lynne screeched at them from in the middle of the road. The driver of the minibus who happened to be a Craigmount geography teacher swerved and nearly hit a lamppost. Lynne jumped and tore across to the pavement. The driver jammed on the brakes and agitatedly wound down the window. Silently she watched heat mist up from the tire tracks. Gingerly she walked over. "LYNNE
TRIPLETT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE PLAYING AT, RUNNING IN FRONT OF
TRAFFIC LIKE SOME...SOME CONFUSED ANIMAL!!!???? THERE ARE TRAFFIC LIGHTS
FOR A REASON" Oh great, it was Mr K, king of humiliation, detention
and suspension. Lynne rubbed her nose, it was bruised and numb. The immature group of students cheered as he drove off. Lynne's cursing lost in laughing and car engines. How come she always got blamed for stupid things she never done? It was so unfair! Even back when she'd been a problem she had only directly been the cause of it rarely. Other people made the situations get out of hand. Not her. She tried so hard to be the model student, keep on top of everything, look successful with her art and music, but still she got into trouble for the dumbest things. It wasn't her fault she had a quick temper. So easy to rattle. She just got so frustrated with her life and all the crap that constantly came rolling her way. Sad and cranky she began to walk up the remainder of the steep road. She wished she could just go home. Quite tempting. Lynne looked at her multicolored watch and panicked. It was 25 past 8. The kind of people that walked up Craigs Road at that time in the morning were the kind of people you wouldn't want to sit in a crowded police station with. They would always cause trouble for no valid reason. And the worrying thing was she had been best friends with most of them... She began to walk faster. She could hear the shouts of Chavs floating around somewhere behind her, along with the instant cloud of cigarette smoke. Eventually she got to the main gate. Red fringe flat with sweat. Her thick foundation streaky. As she walked through the gates, the entirety of the building greeted her. Dark misty paths, long messy grass, brightly lit windows, sweeping high concrete walls. It was quiet except for the faint hiss of rain. A broken lamppost creaked in the wind, dragging a long piece of cassette tape into the breeze. Catching up in the bare rosebushes. She found herself thinking this was like her own personal mini-hell. Her doing. Something that when she left at night ceased to exist as it had done it's purpose for the day. And one day when she left for good it would be gone from the face of the planet to hide she had ever been here. Just so Reality would have another notch on making her look crazy. Damn it. School was evil. "Welcome to the happy world of Craigmount Miss Triplett" she droned sarcastically as she pushed open the main Listerhouse door.
The last three classes before lunch always went slow, especially on a Monday. Chemistry. Two and a half hours of nothing in particular. Her last class had been a hoot, she'd just received lines for dealing out Tarot readings in the back of business studies. Her teacher was a born again christian. It amused her highly. oooohmyyygawwwddd tehh EVIL CARDS! Well c'mon here, having the lines 'I will not deal out tarot in class' is a hell of a site funnier than getting told off for something bland like chewing gum in class. Which she did anyway. Why was gum considered a distraction? So here she was sitting in the last 5 minutes of English. Swinging her heels, staring out the window at landing airplanes and seagulls. Absent mindedly doodling on the back of her jotter. Constantly checking her watch. Was it lunch yet? Was it home time yet? Had a Biplane crashed into history class yet? She sighed deeply and stared at her jotter. Head in her hands. A girl coughed from across the class which caused Lynne to look up from under her long red tassels. She smiled at the girl awkwardly and motioned to her watch. Her friend pushed back her thick round glasses and nodded, clicking her pen impatiently. She never did have the time for creative thinking. Lynne chuckled to herself and continued drawing. Mrs Robinson the teacher walked back into the room carrying a pile of old 'Alice in Wonderland' books. Smiling slightly at Lynne as she walked by to her table. The sandy haired teacher tsk'ed to herself and placed the books down in a neat but unbalanced pile. "Lynne
dear i wish you would listen to me when i tell you not to draw on your
jotter, it should be covered." Mrs Robinson handed a book to Lynne and told her to pass it along. She did so, staring at each copy that passed through her hands. Most of them had tatty covers and were covered in graffiti. The teacher sighed. "Okay class, for your homework, i'd like you to use these books and write a passage on how this story can be likened to our own personal daily lives and experiences. Troubles, anxiety, the urge to dare i say, break free and wander from monotony and order. How would Alice have dealt with being a teenager, going to school in sunny Scotland and what sort of modern day characters would she have met on her travels. And remember you can be as abstract or humorous as you please." Lynne grinned and closed her book while the majority of the class groaned in unison. "Books without pictures, are they as bad as they seem? Did Alice have a deeper meaning with her statement-" "She
was just crazy cuz she didn't have any imported Manga, ahaha" Lynne
blurted, making the boy across the table burst out laughing. The teacher
smiled slightly, but, just ever so slightly. "I mean it was bad
enough she didn't have any books with pictures but the sort that DID
were so damn bland and boring and impossible to read. No wonder she
went running down rabbit holes, y'know?" Lynne Triplett lazily hopped down the high winding stairs to the ground floor, being pushed about by the sheer amount of students rushing past. Holding onto her bag tightly she grumbled as someone banged into her sore elbow. On her way down the stairs she was met with both friendly nods and scathing glares. She paused for a second to read a poster on the house bulletin board about Showstoppers2 musical auditions. Grabbed a leaflet thoughtfully and stuffed it into her pocket. TRiPPY began to quietly sing 'Somewhere over the rainbow' as she pushed open the Raeburn house exit doors and was met by the unpleasantly cold weather again. Changing the words as she walked briskly. "Somewherrrrre over the rainbow, in your dreams, there's a voice we've forgotten, life isn't what it seems..." Smiling as she thought that rhymed great and she ruled etc. Shutting up as a strong blast of wind nearly blew her off her feet as she turned the corner to the dreaded chemistry block. Small, flat and unimpressive, grey brick with a leaking wooden bridge with flickering lights. Classy stuff. It was always full of intelligent goth types who understood that sort of thing. Chemistry and numbers went in one ear and out the other for Lynne. Pushing open the chemistry block doors she was greeted by the pleasant warmth but the worrying constant smell of leaking gas. The corridors in this place were like one big maze, a rat run. A maze full of geeks and teachers out to hit you for not handing in homework for the entire past term. Looking at the door numbers she found her class. Found it not by luck, but by the smell of cigarette smoke wafting out the open door. Lynne cautiously walked in and pulled out her high stool from under the table. Some random insults were thrown her way along with the yelping noise of someone burning themselves with scalding water. Slowly she sat down and dropped her bag. Already bored and the class hadn't even started yet. The teacher wasn't around. Her table was empty for the time being, her friends were always a little late. Which suited her fine as being made to look enthusiastic was never bad. Especially as she flunked the class so much. The teacher wouldn't appear for another 10minutes or so anyway as due to the weather the science block was probably understaffed and the teachers were trying to supervise around 14 classes. Lynne buried her head in her arms and listened to the sounds of the people around her. So kinda distant. Like not actually there. Almost as if, if she was to lift her head real fast nobody would be there except for a tape recording. She tried to pick out conversations by eavesdropping. "Did you see that episode of StarTrek lastnight?"-"AWH MAN ah wuldnae touch her with a 10ft pole ya nugget"-"Did you get that assessment done?"-"Don't you think my hair looks utterly DEVINE like this, ahahahah, i mean you should have seen how cute the guy was that d-"-"yeah the forth bridge is probably closed with the wind"-"Look 'it her just sitting there by herself mahhhn what a pure norma-" At which Lynne paranoid lifted her head and got out her books. Not really paying all that much more attention to the situation anymore. Half an hour or so passed. Chemistry. Her chance to catch up on the daily scandal, supplied by her best friend Laura Philip. True to a Monday though she was missing. Her lab bench void of the usual white Levi's and trademarked foghorn laughter. Lynne sat motionless burning a wooden splint in the bunsen burner. Staring across at the puzzled Stuart Mackenzie. Colin
Howard waved a text book in front of her face. Lynne startled blinked. "Whasup?
crazy." Joked Stu. Lynne looked down at the now Sonic doodled page in her chemistry jotter and frowned. She didn't know WHAT her problem was. But it was that weird dream that was really bothering her. It had really shook her up. Made her think about things she'd tried to forget. Still she couldn't explain, she just felt different, strange, more far off than usual. But she wasn't going to tell the guys that. They wouldn't understand. Lynne spent half her life never explaining as her life was too darn complicated to have a 'short' version. "Well?" the boys chorused. Waiting for an answer. Lynne
blinked. She needed a good excuse. The
two guys went red and shut up very quickly. Ah! the good old 'time of
the month excuse'. It could silence the male population in seconds,
could stop wars and was a guaranteed success every time! Especially
for missing PE class. Heh. Colin pulled at his collar and laughed meekly.
The Australian Chemistry teacher suddenly appeared from out of nowhere like a bat out of hell and slammed the board pointer down on the groups table. "LYNNE
TRIPLETT! STOP distracting the boys and STOP wasting department supplies!
PAY ATTENTION!" The small stocky woman glared down at Lynne holding
a flaming piece of wood. It had burnt down to her fingers, she hadn't
noticed. "Oh!" Lynne dropped it as the teacher tutted. "But
Mrs F, she can't HELP burning things because-" Lynne cringed as
Stu and Colin sandwiched her and began to sing. "-She's the Firestarter!" Then Stuart, the idiot, took one look at her- and told her where to go!... And it wasn't pleasant. Lynne, Colin and the whole class held its breath as they waited for her deafening reaction. Instead
she looked at the stubbly teen, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him
out the door. Stuart laughed and waved triumphantly to the class. As Stuart disappeared from sight they could still hear shouts of 'POLICE!' and 'HELP! ASSAULT!' echoing down the science block corridors. Then it was quiet. Lynne
turned to Colin laughing. Lynne sighed and sprawled across the chemical smelling desk. 'Red Red the custard head' out on her ear yet again...Why was everyone so distant from her? So boring and Normal? Lynne sat up again and tried to copy down the useless information on the blackboard. At least the teacher would think she was actually doing some work. CO H6(2hc+ SO= Blah blah blah. The board was totally unreadable because of the irritating glare from the window across the room. Lynne always complained about it, but according to the teacher Lynne was the only person with the problem so she should just move to another desk. No way, the desk layout in this class consisted of: A- The quiet rich swots, who had the most trivial conversations. Usually consisting of the word Oxford, Cambridge or-"Oh gosh- that Triplett girl is staring at us!". Lynne tutted. B- The slow table, for students who were slow basically. Most of them could burn down the classroom or poison themselves if the teacher was to turn her back for a second. Lynne felt she was going in that direction. Usually consisting of apeman grumbles, hyperactive antics fueled by an overdose on orange juice and Skittles and the despairing pleas of a support teacher getting nowhere fast. One guy with his finger almost surgically implanted up his right nostril. Gross thought Lynne. C- The loud yuppies, who have even MORE trivial conversations than the swots except they have conversations on their pagers and mobiles. (note) they also have egos the size of houses. Personal hairdressers on standby and cheesy with an almost American Jocklike quality. Potential cheerleaders- except Scotland didn't have cheerleaders. Their life seemingly revolving around who's going out with who and what clubs they were going to to chat up the door men and what their singing teachers and private tutors thought. The single token guy sitting among the girls with an 'I love me' expression on his face. The collar on his shirt raised. Elvis was the king of Rock n' Roll, this prat was the king of cheese. Sad- sighed Lynne. D- The sweaties and freaks, that by the way was Lynne's table. She looked around the classroom and raised an eyebrow- wasn't this table the most 'normal'? Yet it was the table that got the most wads of paper lobbed at it. Hi- waved Lynne batting off a paper airplane unimpressed. E- The chavs, Neds and Sengas who drink and smoke in class, get away with it and would kill you if you looked at them the wrong way.(note) Chavs have a following of around half the school and Edinburgh. Given big stupid fancy names by their equally chavish teenage mother who had presumed the name would make them seem less working class. So Edinburgh was slowly being taken over by total halfwit scum who named children after beaches and american states or a fictional soap character. Their speech a language in itself. Everywhere in the world has them- they just get called different things. Every little action is hysterically overacted to try and seem threatening. They all wear the same clothes to try and keep inconspicuous. They have this fear of 'standing out' so they take great pleasure in picking on anyone else who does. It's people like these who bought up Sony's entire stock of Playstations and thought Argos gold jewelry was a good idea. Oh the humanity. Agh! thought Lynne- quickly averting her eyes, ducking from a stray burning eraser whizzing over her head. Bored with trying to suss people out into stereotypes Lynne put down her chewed pen and gave up on the half visible formula. She buried her head deep into her arms and closed her eyes. Her eyelids grew heavy with tiredness and sheer boredom. Thinking of better places to be she fell asleep...
Minutes passed. Hours passed... "Breathe angel breathe" NiGHTS finally sat up. Aware
of how stupid the situation was becoming. Running a hand across his
eyes he stared at the illusion before him. Ghostly. Watching it fade
into the water. Then alone. Feeling drained with a sense of foreboding doom. Just waiting for it all to cave in. Life. Death. Whatever. He watched sleepily as a curious rainbow colored fish darted about above his head. Long veil like fins spiraling and fanning out into the water. It's luminous scales hitting the pale blue light casting through the moonbeams strobing from above. Raising his weary head he slowly lifted his thin white clawed hand out towards the fish. Slow motioned in the deep water. Bubbles softly drifting upwards. Such a simple thought-free existence. An object of small- mindedness in a vast forever unexplored ocean of deja vu. The fish would never have to remember. Never be plagued by the drudgery of emotion. No regret. Just living its insignificant life going around in a circle. Instinct instinct and then nothing. Worthless yet functional. The small sequin like creature swam straight through his hand and continued on its way. Hollow dull eyes lost in instinct. Small color fading from view. NiGHTS cringed and shuddered; it was a strange sensation. Feeling queasy. He blinked softly. Drowning......
another failed suicide attempt. Another chance to escape this place-
gone. Just like his fading hope. This time though it had seemed all
too familiar- perhaps his own deja vu. Someone had tried this before.
The cold water. Confusion as usual. Feeling himself cry but unable to
tell the tears from the depths he dwelled in. Not his tears. Not even
his sorrow. All
he asked for was a release, a way out of this painfully bad joke, a
way into his confused head. To be reconciled, forgiven, to be free.
Free from the horror that was eating into his already damaged mind.
A mind full of hatred and mixed paths, a mind full of horror and secrets.
Full of regret. But deep down inside he knew all methods wouldn't help
him and couldn't help him... He had no one. NiGHTS had been dead for as long as he could remember now and even spirits have problems. Big problems. Except in the afterlife, or whatever this place was called- these problems, you can't run from them. No. You can never escape from the hollow dull eyes of the objects that hate you. His brothers, his sisters, his hate were all fueled by instinct. By higher control. He didn't want that horrible responsibility. It just wasn't him. It never would be. With a heavy heart he touched the empty dark crystal shell of glass on his chest and with a single blurred thought morphed into a more streamlined form that he'd borrowed from the fish, slowly swimming back up to the surface. A veil of bubbles trailed from his shoulders.The iced water sliced through his body like slivers of sharp metal. He really didn't care though, he was past caring about many things. Physical pain being one of them. NiGHTS frowned, biting his stinging pale lip. It was the heavy burden of his mental pain that was making him so ill with sorrow. And it was perhaps the heaviest burden anyone could carry.
The solitude struck hard as he remembered he was in a world that feared his kind; alone. NiGHTS was forbidden to fly in the celestial realm of Nightopia unless he was there to cause death and destruction. Unlike his terrifying companions NiGHTS tried to disown the fate sealed title of 'Evil'. Well lately. The past few years. Despite his grim outlandish appearance he was very angelic and playful. A book in the wrong cover. The inhabitants of this land were creatures of light, innocence. He didn't belong here. Did he belong anywhere? This snowy place was beautiful, delicate, fragile, perfect in every way. Well, apart from the numbing temperature. But maybe it was just his state of mind. An uninviting deterrent for all that he was and hated. What was he? NiGHTS was a twisted misshapen angel of death, full of hate and loathing. He was created to kill in cold blood without so much as a thought, cause fear and misery for others. He was massively powerful and stalked the cool velvet shadows of the sleeping. He had no mercy for the weak and no respect for human emotion. Destroy to breathe. Turn day into night- no safeguards of waking for the dreamer. His job was simply to destroy light and take it away. But in his own reality NiGHTS was none of this, he never had been. He was something of a silent rebel. Too afraid of being mocked or torn to pieces to voice his feelings. With one word he could turn an entire nation against him. So he remained silent. Infact rarely talking thesedays. Far too paranoid of being questioned. Having to hide things and messing up. Constantly checking. NiGHTS hid behind a false smile, hating every moment. His 'friends' knew he was afraid and this is where they got their kicks. Watching him suffer. They -knew- he was hiding something, but found it far more satisfying to let him run with it and get into more trouble in the end. Eventually he'd get his comeuppance. Lose his position. His respect. The other Nightmare demons had grown to detest NiGHTS, constantly picking on him and confusing his individuality. Chipping away. But what they hated most about him was this unnatural sense of moral beauty and reasoning he had developed, they hated it with a passion. Pick as they may though they would never want to get on the wrong side of him. They all knew NiGHTS was different, something pretty special, something they'd only heard about in whispers and secrets. So at the risk of finding out and regretting it, they obeyed their master and didn't push him too far. They wanted him to do that himself. NiGHTS
had incredible power. He was the night yet so much of him was light-
a burning mass of contradictions growing more powerful everyday. But
now, now he was empty. He'd lost the one thing that kept him sane. And
along with it, his identity. His head had become so confused these past
few days. Trying so hard to keep up the act. Failing, having to flee.
Having to run away. Having to hide from what he was. He would wander aimlessly between the two worlds of good and evil finding no meaning or comfort from either. Soon his master, Wizeman 'The all Seeing' would send out a retrieval party for him. If he hadn't done already. He'd be dragged kicking and screaming back to his homeland of Nightmare. Back to his position of enviable high ranking. Always on the lookout for back stabbers and snoops. Everyone in Nightmare was so catty. Always out to see what they could get for themselves. What they could take. But he'd been here for too long. He'd lost track of time. He was in big trouble. The thought made the spirit shiver, it had happened to him before in a previous identity crisis. He'd been gone for six weeks- and that was a long time in this place. When they had caught up with him he didn't put up a fight. He had a snowballs hope in hell of defending himself. They wanted him to fight, they wanted to break him. Be what he was supposed to be. The monster of dark dreams. Their ruler... The person who had so much resting on his shoulders. WHY couldn't everybody just leave him ALONE? Why?- there was yet another unanswered question pushing into his dizzy head. He wouldn't miss this 'life', he just wanted simple respect. Not the kind of respect that went with the job, real respect for who he was inside. But they didn't understand, they had no 'inside', no real emotion, nothing he could claim was a welcome sincere emotion. Nothing. Blank- mindless- drones. He had grown tired of trying to keep up the false image, all the pretending. Just to be one of them and keep his master happy. But what if he WAS one of them? Who was he really? He did what they did- grudgingly. After seeing the truth of his nature he'd woken to a whole new world of fear. Being stuck there upon a gilded throne. Did this make him guilty and evil? There was so much in NiGHTS that was suppressed. His wild nature just waiting to boil over. Now the control was gone. The thing he'd nurtured. He wanted to scream. Really loud. To empty his conscious of the disgusting evil that was slowly dragging him down. But at least he had a conscious. Even if it was in tatters and stolen. Still, while he was in this world he could have his fun. He'd try to enjoy his brief freedom while it lasted. Before he had to go back again. Looking down into the still glassy water the purple and black silk clad devil furiously scrubbed at his thick white and violet face makeup. He hated it because it made him look evil just like the others. The design on his face wasn't as severe as some of the other demons he had seen; thankfully. But it was always there to claim him, claim his face, put a tag on his soul. The harder he scrubbed at it, the brighter it became, it wouldn't budge. The water just rolled off. It was useless and pretty damn permanent. He wasn't surprised though, it had always been like this, he had been foolish to expect any sort of change. It just didn't work that way. And now it never would. He'd never know. And it... it was ALL his fault... His master was a great sorcerer, a powerful god, his creator, mentor and guardian. His creator? Perhaps, perhaps not. The Lord of Nightmare. NiGHTS' eyes watered in frustration, why did his master enjoy seeing him suffer so? Why did Wizeman turn a blind eye when the others tormented him? Why did so many people have to die? Some god.... if only.. if only his... Mot-.... no... the past was the past. Wizeman was in control. All he had left to march along to. NiGHTS had witnessed harrowing scenes of cruelty. He had watched quietly by his masters side as disloyal unachieving spirits were thrown into eternal limbo. The place in between dream and death. These 'disloyal' spirits were probably like NiGHTS but not so lucky. Maybe there had been others like him. With an 'inside'. NiGHTS watched the water drip from his sharp black claws. One day he would lead a rebellion into that awful dimension of his and tear it all down. Change it for the better. But as time stood just now, NiGHTS knew better than to go getting Wizeman upset, it was pointless, painful and stupid. So what was he doing HERE of all places then? Think straight. NiGHTS would just keep his crazy plans to himself for another day. He had to be strong in front of his master or he would suspect the worst and NiGHTS would have a hell of a lot more lying to do. He had to have courage, his.. own.. something he found hard to grasp. Saying this though, the demon had broken down into tears many a time only to be laughed at and treated like dirt. Lately their taunts had become like blows. He wasn't getting weaker... only wiser to how WRONG they were. How wrong HE was. What was he... what? Who was he. What point did any of this have anymore... NiGHTS caught sight of his horned reflection again and smiled strangely, a tormented sinister smirk. Purple eyes misty. They were the only family he had ever known, he couldn't let them down...even if they expressed affection in some pretty strange ways. "I am normal, i -am- normal, i am normal, i am normal, i am normal, i am normal.... i.. i'm normal...... am i?" He was one of them.
"EARTH TO LYNNE!!!!" screeched Mrs Finnay in her annoying high pitched drawl. Lynne opened her eyes to the awful sight of the whole class staring at her and laughing. "So GLAD YOU COULD JOIN US! I REPEAT, what is the pH of sodium?" Her vision blurred infront of her. Distorted faces and noises. Hearing some internal suggestion to run. To get out. Now. "I..em...sorryifeelsick!-" blurted Lynne as she grabbed her bag, leaving all her science jotters on the desk and bolted out the classroom. Knocking over her bench in the rush. The sound of laughter and the teacher yelling followed her down the surreal maze like corridors and finally out of the building. Into the cold air. She ran towards the main teaching block keeping her fingers crossed that the loo's weren't locked or full of people. On the way she passed about 60 janitors, 1 rabbit, six workmen, a million shrubbery patches and at least 5 people who were obviously skiving. She just hoped they weren't ALL heading for the loo. Lynne cussed as she realised she'd forgotten her coat in the classroom. The thought of returning was a rather horrible one. Being laughed at more than normal wasn't her idea of fun. Certainly not on a monday. Running still feeling half asleep, holding onto her bruised elbow, she disappeared into the huge concrete building. Back in the chemistry class the teacher thumped her hands down on the near empty desk and glared at Colin Howard. "I suppose you would ALSO like to dismiss yourself too?" She hissed trying to keep a strained smile. Her eyebrow twitching. Colin paused and quietly placed down his pen. Nervously he looked at his watch. With a weak worried laugh he looked up to Mrs finnay. "Ah- ha... ha ha- ha HA-" He gulped and looked around. His eyes flashing about behind his thick glasses trying in a amusing solo attempt to get the class to back him up. 'The quiet serene Science corridors of Craigmount High school, place and pride of budding professional Staff and students everywhere.' Somewhere down the corridor a induction commercial for the school played as local primary sevens looked up to the television impressed with a sense of awe at being in 'big school'. Then an ear splitting screech and a skid of shoes legging it down the corridor broke the corny voice over. Colin ran from the chemistry building brushing himself off, looking back with a relieved splutter. Waving clumsily at a chav sitting on a wall outside. "Shit
maaan- she sounds pissed- whatcha dae?" The blonde curtained boy
asked smoking like a chimney. Colin awkwardly eyed the guy and scratched
his head. Shaking his purple hair. See, Chavs would talk to Freaks if
their friends weren't around to impress. Typical. The music doors were locked so he began to walk over to the drama side of the building. It was all connected. He could hear the loud screech of feedback on the stage sound system and the exaggerated boom of '1 2! 2!!! - 1! 2' from Mr Emery teacher and director, testing the hand mikes and just plain messing about. Yelling loudspeaker backstage announcements of 'Attention, the phantom cacker has struck again' and 'hit it with a stick!'. Colin laughed the guy was mad. The auditions for the schools new show were coming up in a few days time. The last show had been a huge success thanks to this madman. There were rumors of it being put into the City festival next year. That'd be cool. He often helped out with the tech crew for lighting. The graffitied stage door swung open banging in the wind. Someone had forgotten to lock it or they were loading speakers or flats or something. Colin jumped in surprise as Lynne's best friend Laura DC Philip barged out the door nearly swinging it in his face. "Hoya- watchit!" Colin mumbled. Little Laura stopped and stared, her brain taking its time to register. Looking kinda dumbstruck for a second then laughing out loud. "Hiya
Colin! Ha! Sorry, i nearly knocked you out there." Popping
his head back round the door he yelled after her. "DC! By the way!
TRiPPY wanted to talk to you about something- something important- i'm
guessing but i'd go try and find her." "Right thanx!" replied the white denim clad teen. Her new expensive trainers 'just out the box white'. Yeah, little miss innocent. "Righty ho", Lynne could wait for a bit, it was lunchtime and she was in the mood for some major donut consumption. She walked off around the corner singing a Madonna song.
Lynne Triplett pushed through the double doors of the Hume girls toilets and ran over to the first sink in sight then was violently sick. This place was like the ritz compared to the old toilets. She remembered the eventful day it was opened and a vast group of girls practically set up camp in it for the next 4 weeks. Why it had to be so big was quite confusing. It even had air conditioning and circuit tv. She turned on the tap and splashed the cold water on her hot face. Wiping her chin with a rough paper towel. Thank god nobody came here during class, then she would feel stupid. A silver water fountain stood beside the white swinging door. Something to drink sounded good right now- anything to get rid of the revolting taste in her mouth. Eew. She didn't even get halfway across the room when suddenly she heard a rough smokers cough and girls voices. Panic. The doors were kicked open and in traipsed the local 'Chav Squad'. Bottles and cigz in hand, led by the notorious mega- bitch Katherine Bell. Oh boy... "Hey hey HEY it's UGLY!" Kat roared. Lynne tried to ignore them as usual and make a sharp exit out the door. "HIY Sonnnnnnic. U'm talkin' tae YOU!" Keels of laughter issued from the other eight puffa jacketed, Tommy Hilfigers behind her. Lynne paused and looked down. The one thing she'd always wanted to ask a Chav was what was the POINT of wearing the jogging bottoms with the buttons up the side? Was it vital to their existence or something? Did they have a sudden urge now and then to show off their CK underwear?- scratch that, they probably did. Every Ned had a pair, it was quite funny. Although she wasn't going to laugh right this second. The two big mirrors at either end of the room tripled the gangs size. Lynne felt claustrophobic. Not with space but with attention. She could always try humoring them, that normally worked as well, a few jokes in her own direction wouldn't dent her pride that much. One of the boys smirked at Katherine and threw her a stanley knife. Obviously 'borrowed' from the CDT block. Shit! Forget the humor. Lynne was worried now. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. Trying to stay calm. She was used to situations like this. Although... never on the receiving end. Katherine walked over to a hand drier with a chav swagger and began to scrape her initials into the flimsy metal. She really couldn't draw to save herself, the angles were all wrong. Katherine walked over to Lynne, taking a swig from her half empty bottle of hooch and pretending to actually be drunk, she waved the knife about in front of the girls face. Lynne seen it coming and tried to push past. She HAD to get out! Away from the stench of smoldering rizzlas mixed with stale designer perfume and hairspray. Away from these idiots. All nine of them blocked the doorway. A stout girl with a stupid looking nose pushed Lynne over. "Where you going Triplett? To run to your daddy? Aha! Man what a joke, you're such a fucking wuss." What to do now? Answer back? Fight? Cry? Swear a lot? Even if she managed to kick in Debbie the rest of them would jump in and totally kill her. She had never been in a big fight at school before. She'd only normally stood at the sidelines or had a few short fights with girls stepping out of their place. She'd seen other girls getting the stuffing knocked out of them though. She had always tried to avoid these situations. Always worried that something might happen to her right hand or her eyesight. She was an artist- not a trouble maker. Not really. "I.. i don't NEED to run to my dad, i can look after myself -THANKS. What the hell is your problem ANYWAY?" Lynne hissed under her breath. The once friendly Donna grabbed Lynne's embroidered bag and emptied all the books out onto the floor. If they were going to do the stereotypical thing and look for 'Lunch Money' they were in for some disappointment because Lynne never HAD any money to carry around with her- she received free school meals from the state. But these people were stupid and liked to be intimidating. Alice in Wonderland hit the floor with a heavy thump. 'And how would Alice relate to THIS?' she caught herself thinking. Her new pack of tarot cards she got for her birthday last year spilled across the dimpled white floor tiles. The major and minor arcana whizzing across the floor. "Haw
haw mannn, you play cards? The only people who play cards are 60year
old grannies with no LIFE. God you sure are a headcase Lynne" Jayne raked her shoe through the mess of books. Lynne gritted her teeth in anger- she couldn't stand seeing people mess with her material possessions because either her mother worked so hard to provide them or she had to slog her guts out to earn them in various horrible ways. Lynne could name most of these dimwad idiots standing around her because she used to sit at the same table as them in her second year artclass. They were either in awe with her painting skills or plain jealous. She couldn't help being good, she didn't mean to piss people off. Art was her life not a flashy partytrick she did. Yeah, according to some people she had an attitude problem and was a snob- Question- how the hell can you be a snob if you've lived in council housing most your life, in most of the roughest areas and wear no designer clothes. You have one parent and no car and no job!? And if 'not talking to assholes with big mouths' is considered as an attitude problem and not as being assertive then life was one big mess. A
colorful journal entitled 'Dream diary' caught the stick thin girls
eye- Lynne jumped to her feet. "TOUCH
THAT and i SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU" stated Lynne blankly. Resolute
in her words. "I
thought you were an ARTIST, yir drawings here are CRAP!" Lynne paused looking across at the huge mirror for a second. She could see herself in her reflection and she was reminded of her dream again. She then focused in on the group and raised an eyebrow. They... they seemed so empty. Was this just like her dreams? A moment in clarity in the surrounding noise and chaos. "AHAHAH MAN! TODAYS ENTRY IS MENTAL! LISTEN TO THIS! 'Last night i dreamt something new. Something different. Something that made me feel alive. Something that made me know this place is hiding something. Whole lotta something's but -Who am i? Lastnight i lost my soul. Why am i stuck here. Why does nobody love me. Why does nobody understand. Why am i alone? Shit i wanna die, i'm so frustrated...' AHAHAHAH TRIPLETT MY HEART BLEEDS! Hell bitch, WE love you, we'll even HELP you." Kat sneered in Lynne's face. "Wh..
what do you mean?..." "Hey
dinnae! she's a witch, she'll pit a curse on ye or somit."A small
but deadly serious voice whined from the corner. "Emma hen, wot
the hell ur ye sprafin on aboot noo?!" Crowed Fifi flicking her
cigarette ash in Lynne's direction. Emma Cowie the quiet ginger haired
girl from Lynne's english class had often paid close attention to Lynne's
speaking tests about the occult, spiritualism and demonology. She was
living proof perhaps that a Senga can actually have a brain. "Yeah
bitch if you lay a FINGER on me i'll.. i'll" "See! No sae smart noo urr ye? See the reason nae'one loves you is cuz you're an ugly freak who thinks their some kinda hotshit jist cuz their Da' was. You Triplett are NOTHING. 'Who am i?' You're NOBODY!!" Hollered Katherine kicking Lynne in the side. The artist slid across the floor hitting her head hard off the wall. The sharp glint of the stanley knife appeared again.
Windows To A Haunted Mind Chapter1 copyright of Lynne Triplett 1995-05. |
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