Angelic

Chapter One: The Orphan

Rain splattered against the windows of the school hallway, making the inside even darker than it previously was. The air was tense and cold from the autumn rain pummelling the roof of the large, prison like building. The sound of students shouting and running was deafening to the ears of those not trained in the ability to block out the voices of annoying, rowdy students and confused teachers. It was a strange little place, filled with moping teenage students.

This is where Clara Turner found herself on the foreboding Monday afternoon, otherwise known as her first day at Clear Valley High. She had had a god awful day so far, running late for at least two classes due to loosing her way through the extensive corridors and tripping in front of her entire Chemistry class. In her defense, she maintains that she had been tripped over intentionally.

Clara beat against her locker, her frustration growing at the unwielding lump of metal. "Why won't you open?" She demanded yanking the unmoving locker door.

A couple of boys snickered at her as they passed. Clara flipped them a brutal look which only made them guffaw harder. She respun her locker code once more before punching the locker once more, shouldering her backpack and storming away. She had intended to rid her locker of its contents before her last period so that she would not have to come back and get them after she was fatigued from gym. Obviously, that was not an option.

The whispers were still circulating around her, "Clary the orphan finally got a family?!" That was her favourite. In retrospect, they were a lot better than the usual sneering a of her name.

Yes, everyone knew that Clary had gotten a new family. They also knew that she he lived all the way up in England and that she would be attending a private school of the finest prestige. Ron Walsh would be her Father, a man with no children nor wife. That was all the orphanage had told her.

Despite the trivial information the orphanage had given her she still wanted to know more. Like; How does he like his toast? Does he have laughing lines? What's his favourite book? Are his hugs warm? These were the questions that kept Clary up all night, wondering what her first Father figure would be like.

She had never known who her biological parents were, according to the staff at her orphanage in Australia she was left alone in the pouring rain outside of their door. She had never known a parental figure, the staff at the orphanage took care of too many children to concentrate on one lone and strange child.

Clara was knocked out of her thoughts when a firm set of shoulders bumped into her slowly moving form. "Watch where you're going, freak!" a masculine voice yelled.

She barely even glanced up as she muttered a sorry before continuing on her way. This was how her school days usually progressed, her getting called all a manner of ungodly names and being pushed and shoved by virtually anyone that crossed her. Even the chess club hated her.

She was different.

Unfortunately, Clara had found that out during school in her ninth year. The brief incident had caused a number of rumours to blossom and the teachers to contact the orphanage. Little miss orphan Clara had lifted one of her students up onto the wall. Without once touching him. The teachers had eventually decided that the boy had been seeing things and allowed Clara to get off with only one week of detention. However, high school students are not so forgiving nor as naive.

Thus, the rumours still lingered in the back of each students mind and on their tongues when they barked at Clara.

Gym passed quickly, Clara only receiving one blast to the guts from one of the volleyballs they had been passing around. This was always Clara least favourite subject. Why would anyone want to get hot and sweaty for fun? Not Clara Greenwich. However, the teacher was nice to look at, even if he was wearing a ridiculous outfit. Mr Ross was the only reason she would miss her school, aside from relatively large school library.

"Goodbye, Clara! Hope you enjoy yourself in England." Mr Ross beamed at Clara, his tan skin looking particularly lovely today. Clara blushed at her teacher before thanking him and heading towards her locker.

It only took her entering the combination two times and five beats of her fist for her locker to open. Today must be her lucky day! She threw her useless papers and notes in the bin near the row of lockers before packing her school books and notepads in her backpack. She doubted she would ever use her school books again but if nothing else, they would remind her of the Australia. Last to be thrown into her bag was a lone photo of herself and her old best friend. She didn't attend this school anymore and they had not talked for many months but she still kept the photograph.

"Clara, are you ready to go?" One of the staff from the orphanage stood at the end of the school corridor. Only a few stragglers remained in the hallways, mostly going off to extra cuticular activities or attending to their detentions.

Clara swallowed loudly, suddenly choked up about the fact that she was leaving this terrible school. This place was were she had had her first kiss stolen by a perverted tenth grader. The place had walked through each morning hearing hurtful insults being thrown at her. The place that had carved one more sour and sullen teenager. Yet, it was also the place she had grown up.

She grit her teeth and the lump in her throat disappeared. "Yes."

She shouldered her backpack. The teachers didn't appreciate her. Clara closed her locker. The students would never understand her. The girl turned on her heel and begin walking towards her caretaker. This was a place that destroyed her childhood. The caretaker grabbed her arm, leading her towards the exit. This place did not deserve Clara Greewich.

Good riddance.