4 || an average school day

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It's not just me, it's everybodyWho thinks that you're fucking uglyWhen you come and hurt usJust so you can get your money-The Principal, Melanie Martinez

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It's not just me, it's everybody
Who thinks that you're fucking ugly
When you come and hurt us
Just so you can get your money
-The Principal, Melanie Martinez

It's not just me, it's everybodyWho thinks that you're fucking uglyWhen you come and hurt usJust so you can get your money-The Principal, Melanie Martinez

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

January 21st 1997
Malibu, California

"Julia, hurry up!", Nick yells up the stairs to me, "Anya's ready, stop being a slowcoach!"

"I'm coming!", I stumble down the stairs, pulling on the school shoes.

"Okay, good. Chop-chop.", he says, "I've got to get to work too."

I stop on the stairs and stare at him, "Why are you working?"

"Too many questions, not enough moving. I thought the Academy trained you girls better than this."

My face pales at the mention; it's only been a few days since we first got here but my old life seems like a different plane of existence from the luxuries and comforts of sunny Malibu. Things between the four of us are pretty much the same; Anna's nice, I think, and Nick's not so keen on us, it seems, but I guess none of us came here for fun. This is just business. Over the past few days, my nerves for the mission have only grown more. Failing isn't an option.

But faster than I'd like, the morning of us starting school rolls around, so here I am, ready and waiting to go.

Anna rushes in, "Okay, here you go. Lunch box one, lunch box two." she tosses a lunchbox to me, and then Anya, "Now, you lot better get going. Good luck, girls."

We head down to Nick's car and I get in the passenger seat, whilst Anya sits in the back. I glance back and see her nervously fiddle with her backpack in her lap.

"You okay?" I ask, giving her a concerned look. She just nods, clearly lying, "It's okay, you'll be absolutely fine. Trust me."

Nick climbs in the driver's seat, "Right, let's get going."

As we drive, Anya starts to get curious; we've always been taught to not speak unless spoken to (as Nick so kindly pointed out earlier) but she's so nervous that common sense doesn't really matter to her at the moment. "Did you ever go to school?"

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