Saturday 8 September 2012

No Name, actually...


Sophie was an unknown within her peer group. She had attended her high school for three years, but still no one knew who she was. Sure, she had friends and enemies, but no one could tell what she was good at it. She was bright, but in the second class for every subject. She was athletic and fit, but never got into the highest teams or races. She liked to read and draw and write, but never really showed anyone anything. Sophie- to her classmates- was boring. So on Monday when Sophie got up and got dressed and had breakfast, nothing special happened. When she went to school, she arrived without much difficulty. She never missed her bus, she never forgot an umbrella and she never left her lunch behind. Sophie’s mind was like clockwork. There was never a minute spare. In fact, the only thing that made her break out of her monotonous, repetitious personality was when people started to talk about reptiles. When the topic was reptiles she would get animated and enthusiastic, and no one had made the mistake of calling a frog a reptile after Sophie’s ‘outburst’. It had not been pretty, and since then people had tried to stay away from her. Because of that, she remained an unknown entity. Most students didn’t know her name. She was normally referred to as Lizard or Snake or simply Scales. She liked being called Scales the best, and her small group of friends would call her that. Of her five friends, one was a cars expert, another a fish expert, a third knew everything about plants, the fourth never said anything because she was always reading feverishly and the last one was fluent in eight languages. They were all freaks, but Sophie didn’t think that any of them other than her had come to terms with that.

‘Scales, what time is it?’ Poppy- the plant fanatic- asked. Sophie looked at her watch.
‘Ten past.’
‘Ten past what?’ Chloe- the language nut- asked.
‘One.’ Sophie answered. Nicole, or Gills, stood up.
‘Time to go then.’ She said. Sophie, Nicole, Poppy and Dana- the cars expert- all stood up as well. Helen- the avid reader- did not stand up. The other five sighed and ripped the book out of her hands.
‘Hey! It was just getting good!’ Helen shouted. Dana rolled her eyes.
‘You say that every day Hel.’ She grumbled.
‘I do not!’
‘Yes you do.’ Poppy and Chloe said in unison. Nicole laughed and helped Helen up. The six girls walked to their lockers and got their textbooks out for the next class. Sophie groaned audibly when she saw that she had Geography next. She hated Geography. Not to mention the horror of the new seating plan. In between Graham and Fiona. Graham was an idiot, and said the most moronic things. He never payed attention, and he was that kid that asks a question two minutes before class is finished. Fiona was a visually based trademark blonde. She insisted on wearing makeup to school even though they weren't allowed to, and everyday she was sent to the office to get rid of it. The only good thing about the new arrangement was that Sophie had been put across the table from Kadar. Sophie adored Kadar. Not that anyone knew. Sophie kept to herself and even though she constantly told herself that she would always tell the truth, she knew that if somebody asked her if she liked anyone, she would lie and say no. Sophie piled her books into her arms and walked to Geography.

Sophie arrived before her teacher and leaned against the wall. Her teacher may have been the worst part of Geography. Mr Chalk. Mr Chalk was not only a Geography teacher, but was also the school principal. Which made him dull and terrifying. It wasn't fair. Mr Chalk arrived and ushered the class in. Sophie sat down at her seat and waited for Mr Chalk to hand out the sheets for that lesson. A pair of sheets floated down in front of Kadar. Sophie grabbed one and chuckled quietly as Kadar rolled his eyes.




I have absolutely what this story was. Not a clue. I have no idea what I was going to do with this. I don't recall any character personalities, plot points, ideas. I honestly completely forgot about this story. Which implies...

Not to be continued.

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