Sam strode onwards her black boots clattering noisily against the pristine linoleum floors here inside the unknown fortress. Sam did her best not to be shocked, but couldn’t hide her amazement, this place seemed even bigger on the inside then it did the outside! The grand entrance to the school perfectly was perfectly polished, stunning large staircases, and multiple school emblems hung from banners in azure blue, honeysuckle yellow, and black trim Not only was the grand entrance vast and intimidating for the girl, but it came along with so many other girls running this way and that some carrying luggage behind them, a few looked to be getting a guided tour of the campus, several looking to be already forming cliques, and others looked just as lost and confused Sam was…Sam had thought navigating through the airport was bad, but this was madness!
Sam took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to center herself (a habit she’d picked up after many a visit to detention and guidance counselor’s office for her…temper issues…at her old school.) Think. No need to rush…but what should she do first? Sam felt her duffle bag digging into her shoulders, the pain the ultimate push she needed to get moving once more, she settled on finding her room and at least getting free of her luggage before doing anything else. Carefully Sam dove through her duffel bag and retrieved a letter the school had sent her earlier then zipped the bag up once more, (but not before double checking that her black book of poetry was still at the very bottom, still very safe and away from all peering eyes that weren’t her own lest they be personally plucked out by Sam herself.)
You see, back at home or at her old school, there had been so much keeping her…trapped; Sam had took a liking to poetry at an early age. She wrote a poem about how beautiful and mystical the moon and the stars were a poem about how awesome and strong ants were, and plenty of others some of them traditional rhyming poems, some of them different, but all of them were special to her, and she’d written them all down in her one black book, it was old, and tattered but she’d done her best to take care of it so it was till mainly in one piece. One day she had finally worked up the nerve to read them and had been made fun of for it, so she had been a scrapper from the start of her scholarly lifetime taking on boys or girls alike, that had earned her a bad reputation but also a reputation as a bad ass as well, yet like so many unfair labels applied to others it was only skin deep, the street smart scrapper wasn’t really HER, and yet she played the role because…well…that was sort of how everyone treated her, like a dangerous animal. Of course in later years the boys had stopped with the scoffs but the girls name calling, ESPECIALLY Stacy Hannigan, had moved on from her long forgotten poems, and onto her “underprivileged” upbringing…and let’s just say Sam didn’t regret any broken nose she delivered after those…And of course she’d always spared Mom the specific details of why she was “written up” this time, never wanting to upset her Mom she’d kept the names “Second-hand Sam” and “Welfare Wisely” from her, but often times she wondered if maybe her Mom knew, had known what could set her little girl off like a firecracker.
“Aww..Mom….” Sam muttered softly, still a little mixed up inside now thinking of her mother again. Her mom, who had always done her best to make sure her little girl had the best childhood possible, Mom, who never once failed to scold Sam for her coarse cursing, Mom, who always apologized profusely to the cashier anytime she accidently went over her food stamps limit as the two were grocery shopping at the supermarket, Mom, who always, always, always found a way to get the gift Sam really really wanted for her Birthday every year…
Sam had only in her past few teenage years realized what sacrifices her mom had really been making for her and it had straightened her attitude out. Sam was way more polite at home around her mother then at school and she was never too shy about making sure her Mother knew her love for her. Sam wouldn’t brag but she DID really work hard at her schoolwork when it came to crunch time, and undoubtedly her mother had worked twice as hard to keep a roof over their heads…and to make sure Sam was able to come here. Sam sniffed a bit at that, so quickly gathering herself together lest she get homesick mere minutes after getting here, gathered her luggage and moved towards somewhere where she could read the letter a bit better.
Sam quickly unfolded the letter and skimmed it… “Welcome to Buttercombe….yadda…yadda..We welcome you with….blah blah blah…Shall be residing in room number 1…!”
Sam’s brown eyes flashed open as she realized with dawning horror the note had been ripped! It was such a small piece and yet it held the most important information! A wave of panic struck the girl once more, and Sam huddling over her duffel bag went into a frenzy her hand searching through the bag to find the tiny torn of portion. Sam felt her anger bubbling to the forefront; maybe she should call her Mom? No, the last thing she wanted to do was to make her Mom worry at a time like this. Ask for help from someone here? Sam looked about unsure of who to ask, or even where to go to find some she could ask, a spattering of school girls already in uniform gazed over in her general direction and smiled warmly in her direction, Sam stared back…and saw only Stacy Hannigan…well not actually Stacy but girls “like” Stacy…Sam knew exactly what would happen if she went over to them right now ask for help, they’d stare her up and down once…and then they’d laugh. They’d laugh her right out of the school and back onto the return flight home. Sam was on her own here.
“FUCK!” said Sam her pre-held breath exhaling vehemently all at once in a single syllable. The noise reverberated off the cold floor and walls bounced into the ears of everyone present. There was a momentary pause in all present conversations; Sam could feel herself going red, HER of all people, the punkest of all punks at her old school and quite accustomed to glares glowers and glances, but then…nothing, all conversations continued as normal, (barring a single meek looking blonde girl who had clasped her hands to her ears over such a curse word, but then even she too eventually went back to her own business.)
Sam could feel the momentary heat of madness evaporating from her body, but then realizing what she’d done she quick to a double take about her…No Teachers were coming to caution her for cursing, no students to snitch on her swearing, no Principal to punish her for her profanity, no mother to matronly reprimand her maledictions…Sam was really on her own here.
“Holy shit!” she thought as this new realization dawned on her.
“HOLY SHIT!” she said aloud testing her luck in this brave new world. This time no one even batted an eyelid. With a sense of new beginnings, positivity, and freedom so much freedom, Sam felt like she was coming back to her senses, her old ways. She smiled as self-confidence seeped back into her body.
Her mind clear Sam saw the signs of the 100’s hallway and headed in that direction in hopes that she might find someone who could fill in the blank of her missing room number The lone wolf walked through the hallway feeling a bit better with the stunning sudden realization: she was on her own. Her baggage felt lighter than ever, she felt cool and calm even without a destination, it was the good feeling she got wearing her hoodie up walking in the reflective rain soaked streets at night, streetlights guiding her way home back home whenever she or her few other friends used to stay out way past the curfew her mother had set for her. It was true…even at home she was guarding herself a bit, her REAL self, here…here she could let loose, let her potty mouth overflow without fear of it ever being washed out with soap, she’d keep her aptitude in check with her attitude and with her two biggest strengths combined she felt unbeatable.
Skinny Sam had no trouble snaking her way through the crowded halls, she had to wonder though was it her imagination or were the hallways awful small? Well, never-mind that, as she finished the gauntlet trapeze of weaving around wide loads of luggage and wide-loads of students she finally figured that since rooms here were booked two students to a room, she needed to either look for a completely empty room or a room without a partner. Fortunately it seemed that on the "1000's floor" two rooms were both vacant so she had a 50/50 chance of guessing her room correctly. Sam shrugged, chance had favored her so far...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author