6. Classroom idea, a song

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⚠️ blood, violence, abuse, bruises ⚠️

Late September, Monday

"She used to be in class 4-3 before, right?"

"I don't know. I don't recognise her"

Amaya stands in front of the green board, trying to look as unaffected as possible. There is this polite and sweet smile that she wears on her face, albeit a bit forced, something which she practised in the mirror the entire weekend. She can't remember anything about this school building, or this classroom, but she honestly wasn't expecting it to be this big.

"She just changed her appearance, it's definitely the girl you're thinking of"

Twenty five students, or so, crowd class 4-2 with their eyes following Amaya's every move like hawks to its prey. Although rather than looking like predators they look rather curious, like overwhelmingly curious. Amaya can hear every whispered word that goes unnoticed by the teacher standing next to her, a man in his forties with round glasses that make his appearance seem much younger than he actually is. Their words are not weird but it feels incredibly awkward to hear them whisper about her so openly. It's dehumanising, to say the least.

"I'd change schools if I were her. Why would anybody want to come back here if they got to start over?"

"Right?-

Their eyes shine as they stare and whisper at the same time. Amaya tries to figure out if they know she can hear them, or if they're just a little dumb. Either way she tries not to lose her smile, knowing that a single hint of weakness could be quite dangerous in any high school. "Doesn't she know how dangerous this school is? It's definitely no place for someone with her condition". But as Amaya continues to listen, she is surprised to find genuine concern in some things that they say, and that makes her heart feel a little lighter.

"Alright class! Quiet down!"

It seems like the teacher has finally stopped reading through the list of names and fixing his glasses, as he decides to stop the stream of murmur that travels through the beautiful classroom.

It has large windows showing the wonderful gardens outside, a soft morning wind flowing through one of the open ones, with its white decorative curtains flying along with it. On the other side, there are windows out to the classic wooden school corridor, and Amaya can see some old paintings hanging against the opposite wall. Each student has a nice, modern but classic-looking wooden chair and desk that they share with their deskmate, and the teacher's desk and board is equally as fancy. Amaya revels in the silence that suddenly settles over her twenty nine new classmates.

Note the number. Twenty nine because she refuses to call her brother, Avan, a classmate. Somehow the blonde and black-haired boy is a student in her class and Amaya doesn't even want to think about it right now.

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