(Credits: Picture of James McMillan School)
Owen
Today, we're going to have a new student in our class. Everyone in class doesn't seem upbeat and excited about the news except Ash who forgot to take his
meds and me who is naturally happy about knowing new things and new people. Unlike the kids at normal schools, the kids here have already done their research on who's going to be joining us today since a week ago. The ignorant me have just heard about it this morning. When I mentioned 'done their research' I meant, asking Felix, our kleptomaniac to steal the files from the supervisor. He's a genius when it comes to stealing confidential stuff, that is after taking the proper
meds and going to therapy sessions. Previously, he couldn't help not stealing anything that he could cast his eyes on: a toothbrush, my books, Lisa's contacts.
I do hope the new kid won't get all crazy when she first gets here. I remember how nuts I was when I first step foot on this place.
"Everyone here is a freak!" I yelled, not bothered to care about how other people around me felt. I was only five when they first told me that I couldn't stay with my parents anymore.
"This is your new home," said the doctor strapping me to a wheelchair and strolled me off to my new room.
After going through four years of discreet silence at home (which wasn't all that bad), the doctors told me that it was time for me to leave home and leave my parents. There was something wrong with me, they said. I am not fit to belong in the upperclass society they said. Bla-bla blah...
It was true you know. I'm not the perfect son they would have wanted. I'm colorblind. I always need people's assistance in getting new clothes or painting in art class. However, I always think that it's not that big of a problem. I can still take care of myself. I can still think properly and read properly. What's with shifting me to a totally different state of the country and only visit me once a month?
That's the world we live in. All of us here in Fredrick Academy are the sons and daughters of upperclass families who aren't fit to be seen with the family. Hence, we are sent here. Nevertheless, after staying here for ten years, I've started to understand my position in the society I once lived in. In class, we were often told that pleasing others is our top priority. By being imperfect and looking imperfect I am not pleasing others in depicting that upperclass families are the perfect families.
What excited me most about the new girl that's coming to class in a few minutes is that she's one of the rare ones of our school. Most of us here were sent to Fredrick since we were in kindergarten. We were never introduced to the public of our existence unless we were confirmed 'perfect'. We went through testings every year to examine our physical state and our mental state as well. Ash was stamped imperfect since he was four after confirming the fact that he was more active that others in his class. He has ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder). If you're perfect, however, you would be introduced to the public in the most extravagant manner aka a huge televised welcoming party. I can imagine how it looks like: "We welcome our five-year-old beautiful daughter into the Peters family!" Applause.
I bet the new girl has been properly introduced. What intrigues me is how her death would be told in the papers. You see, my classmate, Isla was a perfect daughter of the famous musician, Mark Houston. However, after the tragic accident she got turned into a limp. She was sent here and the media spread stories that she died tragically in the accident. They even made a funeral for her.
"Everybody put your pens away for a minute and stand up for the new member of your class," said Miss White, clasping her hands together. I could tell she was nervous, new kids of Fredrick Academy always cause chaos when they first get here.
As I am standing up to show respect to the student that is about to enter the classroom, I start to gaze at her feet. Her feet has the most mesmerizing shoes I have ever laid eyes on. High-heeled black platforms with white stripes. "Hideous shoes.." whispered Isla behind me. Even with her state, nobody really likes her because of her fowl mouth. It only made it worse when I see Claire signing U-G-L-Y to me.
My eyes then start to shoot right up to her face. She is....covering her face with a peculiar two-faced mask. On one side of the mask is a pimpled and bloodied face..urgghh.. and on the right side of the mask is a white painted complexion with thick black eyeliner and black lipstick. What's with this chick?
"I am the daughter of fashion designer Vanessa Chong and businessman Kevin McDonald," she mumbled behind the mask. Oh...so perhaps that explains the two-faced thing.
"I am here because I was diagnosed two weeks ago for having two different personalities," she continued, saying such a thing in a confident manner. I didn't realize I was gaping until I saw her eyes looked right at me.
If you think it's weird for her to be saying this about her openly in class, well, it's normal for us. I remember when Dexter first came in. "I am here because I can never walk again". That just got everyone in class all choked up. He was a junior soccer player and was predicted to be the next David Beckham. All this was interesting and dramatic to know because Felix the snatcher wasn't at school yet. He came a year later and has been snatching the files from the principal's office for years then. I would always runaway whenever I see my classmates gathering up to read the files. I like surprises.
Ok, I seem like a girl now don't I? I get that all the time. It's cool.
"My name is Scarlett...and Stella" she said. And this is our queue. "Welcome to Fredrick Academy Scarlett .....and....Ste..lla" the class said together with awkward overlapping mumblings. It is a first for us of course, to have a person of her kind. But no one's really enthralled by the freshness of this situation. What's with this?
Everyone starts to sit down and that's when I realized there's an empty seat right next to me.
Scarlett walks hurriedly to sit right beside me and turns to face me straightaway.
"Hi, Owen," she said and I know in my gut that something's not right.
*
*I haven't written fiction in a while but in the words of my senior, "Just write, if you keep on judging yourself, nothing will be on paper".
