Imogen Sherbet
New Member
The next day was relatively uneventful. Then again, anything would seem uneventful given the events of the previous two days. Elena was still trying to come to terms with what she'd discovered. So, she went to a school with other people like her. It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? She'd worked her way through more difficult situations. As her last period ended and she packed away her books, her mind wandered to Daichiro's parting message.
We might be a strange bunch, but we're the only ones who will ever understand you, Miss Elena.
I don't need understanding. I'm through with that. Memories washed through her mind. Memories of walking through a dark hallway, as the talking around her faded into whispers and haughty glances. Memories of walking up to her locker, only to find that someone had written 'DYKE' in permanent marker over the front. Living with it for the rest of the year and ignoring the giggles it produced. Finding the guy who did it and beating the crap out of him. Not feeling the satisfaction that she thought she would at seeing his bloodied face. Her parents. The late-night conversations. She'd long since given up on finding someone who understood her.
She snapped back to reality, discovering that she was the only one left in the classroom. More determined than ever, she marched out of the classroom, holding her head high and striding boldly. Yet the actions were empty-they did not match her feelings.
We might be a strange bunch, but we're the only ones who will ever understand you, Miss Elena.
I don't need understanding. I'm through with that. Memories washed through her mind. Memories of walking through a dark hallway, as the talking around her faded into whispers and haughty glances. Memories of walking up to her locker, only to find that someone had written 'DYKE' in permanent marker over the front. Living with it for the rest of the year and ignoring the giggles it produced. Finding the guy who did it and beating the crap out of him. Not feeling the satisfaction that she thought she would at seeing his bloodied face. Her parents. The late-night conversations. She'd long since given up on finding someone who understood her.
She snapped back to reality, discovering that she was the only one left in the classroom. More determined than ever, she marched out of the classroom, holding her head high and striding boldly. Yet the actions were empty-they did not match her feelings.