Slow Motion

Slow Motion 03

"Holy Hell, you have to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath as I surveyed my new high school. It was starting to become apparent that "Alternative High School" equated to "dumping ground for teenage freaks, people with really bad taste in body piercings and kids with serious mental issues."  

First of all, the building itself looked like a prison. It was cold, grey, humongous and unyielding looking. If an earthquake even thought about disrupting this puppy Mother Nature was in for a rude awakening. The windows were all barred. There was an unsettling amount of concrete everywhere you looked and the whole thing was surrounded by a solid stone gate (not topped with barbed wire thankfully). No - it didn't look like a prison. It looked like an asylum.  

"Where are all the normal kids," I asked, to no one in particular.  

"They look . . .colorful," answered my dad, right on cue. He peeked carefully out the window at a girl with pink hair and three rings in her nose. "Artistic. Like you."  

"I like to keep my art on the canvas thank you." I rolled my eyes and sucked in my breath. I was going to have to get out of the car sooner or later. This was my own fault. My last school had kicked me out because of my "problems". Vivian has issues that we are not equipped to handle here. Right, thanks. 

My dad wanted to come in with me. Seriously? I wasn't about to let that happen.  

Five minutes later I had at least made it out of the car but still hadn't been able to bring myself to walk towards THE BUILDING. I stood, cowering near the gate watching boys and girls walk by. I was trying to get a feel for how they felt about THE BUILDING. They didn't seem to notice it anymore. I guessed I would soon get used to it myself.  

"My my my, there are an awful lot of unfortunate dye jobs to be found here," said a sickeningly sweet voice in my head. It poured out thick like rancid honey and it could only mean one thing. Katrina.  

Katrina was standing behind me, leaning in towards me as if whispering this information in my ear. Not that she needed to. The ghosts never talked out loud. Their voices filled my head in a creepy intrusive way. When they spoke it felt like they momentarily took over my entire nervous system. I turned to look at her, quickly glancing back and then forward again, not wanting anyone to see me gaping at nothing.  

Katrina had the misfortune of dying wearing nothing but a racy pair of undergarments. She was found strangled to death in a laced black bra that she amply spilled out of and some silky looking black panties with a tiny gold bow on them. So, this is how she now walked the earth for all of eternity, or at least, for as long as she wandered around lost. I don't think she minded though. Katrina had two modes, seductive and complete and total bitch.  

"Haven't seen you since the move, Katrina. Pity, I was kinda hoping I had lost you." 

"Me and you, sweetie, friends to the end. I couldn't leave you if I tried," her voice echoed between my ears. I hated her and I hated the way all of them liked to play games with me. They could be so cruel, taking my own insecurities and turning them against me. For instance, they all knew I worried that they weren't even real. I think it made them angry. They enjoyed playing tricks on me like moving things around when I wasn't looking, writing me strange messages, and their favorite - talking to me like I was a crazy person. They'd always slip in jabs at my sanity whenever applicable.  

"Don't be obnoxious today Katrina, new school and all," I whispered as I walked away from her. I took one more quick look back. She was still there where I left her. Her pale likeness was almost completely translucent in the glaring sunlight. Thankful that she wasn't following me I entered THE BUILDING and followed the signs that lead me to the front office.

The office secretary had taken one look at my transfer paperwork and ushered me off to the Guidance Counselor's office. I sat in the waiting area long past the first bell ringing, waiting for someone to come out and call my name. A small pudgy man with a red face finally stepped out of his office and waved me in. He didn't ask me any questions or really seem to regard me in any way what so ever. He quickly went over the school program which seemed to be a mix of core classes, life skills and group therapy. It sounded like he had spent years committing his speech to memory. When he finally wound down he picked up my transfer papers and skimmed them. His eyes darkened and his hands twitched, just barely. 

"Uh huh. Vivian, of course. They told me you were coming. I have something for you." 

He turned his back to me so I could enjoy the sight of his large sweat stains emerging on the back of his blue button down shirt. Who had sweat stains this early in the morning when it wasn't even 70 degrees outside?  

He set something down in front of me, a pamphlet. But he quickly covered it with one of his hands as he reached across the desk towards me.  

"If you need anything at all, you just come see me. We also have a school psychologist on staff here as well. She's a great listener, you'll love her. I'm sure she will be seeking you out soon. Now go on back to the front desk and they will walk you down to your first class." 

I picked up my pamphlet. It was pale blue with big bold letters across the top reading "Preventing Teen Suicide." Absolutely wonderful. I sighed and pushed it roughly into my backpack on my way out the door. I had a thought, just for a moment, about wadding it up and shooting it in the trash before leaving but that seemed a little much for a first impression.  

I was just about to be ushered out to the hall by an annoyed looking secretary when suddenly a blur of purple hair streaked by us almost knocking us down. She was carrying a large black leather portfolio in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of smoking hot coffee in the other and she was moving at the speed of light.  

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I know this is no way to start off the week but my alarm didn't go off and my mom couldn't drive me so I had to wait for my brother to get up and he is so freaking slow you wouldn't believe it . . ." she rattled off her excuses quickly.  

"Alright Julia, I'll write you a pass one more time but let's be quick, I have to take this new student down to Mr. Boyd's Social Studies class," sighed the secretary.  

"Thank you, you're the best! I have Mr. B's class this morning. I can take her if you want!" 

She looked at me and winked. I could have hugged her. I really didn't feel like being escorted to class like a five year old.  

"I'm Julia," she told me as we walked out together.  

"Vivian. And thanks. I'd much rather be shown around by another student." 

Julia tossed her coffee in a hallway trash bin. "I know this place looks kooky, but it's not so bad. Most of the students got tossed from their regular schools for truancy or other assorted rule breaking. Some of us are here because no one knows quite what to do with us - you know, issues and whatnot."  

"I think I fall in to the 'whatnot' category," I stated quite seriously. It was met with peal of laugher though.  

Julia was nice but she talked at a speed I could hardly keep up with. She tossed her purple hair from side to side when she talked like she didn't know quite what to do with it. It wasn't that long but it fell into her face a lot, covering her eyes. She wore jeans and a black band t-shirt and about twenty bracelets that jangled up and down her left arm. Still, I decided I liked her right from the start.  

It was easy for me make friends. Keeping them was the tricky part.