She fell.
A silent breeze returned from the quartz-rimmed pane. The smell of compulsive coffee. The smoke of a cigarette. A heartfelt whisper. Speaker hummed, heels slid. Her tailored knits frolicked against that silent breeze.
But she fell. Again.
A tomb in display left to remain, in the feet of the intended, only for the girl who wanted to see it fall.
Inside her head. Not in the eyes of others.
Befalling.
Since she desired for letting herself drown in the pool of potential.
But she clapped for the gifted.
And gifted were, they.
Pain had a way with action. It was susceptible to words.
Imogen watched her best friend give herself towards immortal acceptance, which paved a way for one more argument in favour of her failure.
She wanted to shoot the boys with a rifle but the truth resorted to recoil like wood replaced by dust.
Miss Kramer with the satisfaction of killing a student, smiled. Her eyes glistening a sharp, glint almost dreading the pure elements of sanity.
"That will be all. Have a great evening, everybody.''
The students cheered. Now that Miss Kramer was off that stage, the evening would retain back its normality.
But Delaney stifled a scream. Normality was perfidious.
I'm a tenacious survivor.
Kramer swivelled her frame and continued,
"And one more thing, I don't want any song to be played that acknowledges buttocks, objectification of women, OR a tropical South American reptile.", she eyed William, a partial Asian Homo sapien, who averted his gaze at his gear, waiting to cause a turmoil.
" I think we did recieve enough of that trash from Mr.Smith, here. I hope you are proud of ruining lives of the stipulated many. Uncanny, isn't it?", cue devil gaze at Tate who acclaimed on pride.
He expelled a perturbed sigh. His eyes weary with convoluted hope. Reminiscent. Distant.
"I have never been prouder.", he muttered.
And his tanned fingers intertwined with snow.
But snow chose to pull down the blinds. Memories lived as prescience. It was best to be pretermitted.
"Playing hard to get?", whispered Tate. His heartbeat was too loud to fill the room.
Maple raised her chin to emphasize romantic superiority.
" Impossible to get, Smith.", she let a little cough after that.
Tate suppressed a grin and diverted his gaze at Raidyn, who seemed to be busy in scholarly indulgence.
"She meant 'Anaconda'. You know, the song sung by the girl who looked like an exploded sequin shop?"
"Oh. Britney Spears?"
Raidyn chuckled. He loved that guy. To a degree left unnoticed. Yet diminishingly strong.
"Madonna, mate."
Gnasher widened his brown eyes. Jackpot claim.
He slapped Raidyn's slender suit on the realization of victory.
YOU ARE READING
The Dreaming Casualty
Romance"I'm different. I prefer it that way.", she said. "Me too. Life's a casualty. I give in to get none." Following six teenagers, with a life to give, more to seek and dream an anthemic. Of which, two souls dared to believe. In Belief. Hearts didn't li...
