Hello There, Stranger
By Free the dancing Llamas
Chapter 1: Mondays
The echoing of footsteps could be heard ricocheting off the marble walls. I ran as fast as I could, in the dimly lit hallway. The sound of rain hitting the building and the howling of wind ran throughout the entire hall. My two best friends running by my side. I glanced at my watch, 8.45. Panicking slightly, I began to run faster, Carmen and Asha not far behind me.
Carmen dropped one of her books, tripping over herself, trying to get them off the floor. Asha laughed, as she grabbed Carmen's hand and pulled her along as Carmen grasped the edges of the book.
Skidding to a halt, the marble tiles screeching, I started running back, to be met by two bodies. I felt the walls shake at the collision, and I fell back, smacking my back against the marble, the combined weight of Carmen and Asha on top of me.
I could feel the pain at the back of my eyes, my back screaming in pain.
"Awe fuck." Carmen's muffled voice could be heard, though I wasn't sure where her head was. A sea of black uniform and legs covered my vision.
"My head." I heard Asha moan, as I tried to grasp for some sort of support that would help me up, "Hey, whose touching my butt?"
"Oh, so that's what that is." I heard Carmen's muffled voice.
And before I knew it, the hall way was littered with students, whose curious gazes had led them there. I managed to scramble from underneath Carmen and Asha. On my hands and knees I came face to face with a pair of stiletto clad feet.
"Ms Rose, Miss Tratenburgh and Miss Callis, what may I ask, are you doing on the floor?" Madam Du Pompadour growled, she seemed to enjoy that fact that I was on my knees in front of her. Mind you, most of the teachers probably would. They all thought that we were spoilt little rich kids, just wasting their precious time. Especially me, the weird kid out of the lot, I mean we had some real weirdoes, like the strange, reclusive Belcot twins, whose parents owned Kalia Ferdicci, one of the biggest fashion labels in the world, or even Michael Von Geum, whose father owned half the stocks and whose mother was the CEO of Jaqui GX, a computer company; whose motto was "Computers for beautiful people". Michael was a bit of a sadist, who spent most of his time at clubs or parties. And sadly, I was considered to be more of a freak than either of them; Hale Rose, Daughter of George and Maria Rose, my father owned five different companies, and my mother was the top brain surgeon in the country. And me, I was a perfectly normal, sociable girl of eighteen years of age. Well I would have been if I hadn't been betrothed at the age of sixteen by my crazy parents to solidify a deal with one of his business partners, the CEO of Grandscope, a company who bought shares at ridiculously cheap prices, built them up and sold them for ridiculously expensive prices.
His name was Peter Scope, he was twenty-eight and I had only talked to the guy a few times. In fact the longest conversation we had was about five minutes long and it was about the weather. I was going to be married to him within the next month, and for the last few months of school, while I finished up at Balfazar "School for the gifted", I'd live with him.
So needless to say, ever since the week our betrothal was announced all over the world, I lost a lot of friends, and gained a lot of pretend friends. My only real friends being Carmen Tratenburgh and Ashanti (Asha) Callis. My teachers began to grow distant. It was like the engagement ring repelled people.
So, I was officially named the school freak after that little incident. As you can see, the whole situation was not working in my favour.
"Madam Du Pompadour, we were running in the halls because we were late." Carmen began.
"Aha! So you admit to being late. Why were you late?" She growled, "We're you tied up in some sort of…engagement?" She snarled, looking straight at me.
I turned away in embarrassment, what could I say to that? (See what I mean about the teachers?)
"We had lost track of time." Asha replied, her voice as quiet as a mouse, I could barely hear here, I knew why too. It was all to do with Matt Otsbrook, the heir of Otsbrookcorporations. She'd been crushing on him for about five years and as fate would have it, he was one of the people out in the hallway watching the spectacle.
"You lost track of time?" Madam du Pompadour boomed, so that the rest of the students could hear. "Well you won't lose track of time in detention. I'll see you three after school. Expect that I'll be calling your parents."
I waited nervously for my parents to arrive, or rather one of their secretaries. They never came to the school, even on parent/teacher night. No one's parents ever came to school. Except for Carmen's of course. Who were almost convinced that their daughter was a demon.
Though I was probably going to get a verbal lashing from them both that evening, when I eventually got home after detention (If it ever ended).
"Hale, darling how many times have we told you to be good?" My mother asked, as she took a sip from her glass of orange juice. Mother never like wine.
"You've had two detentions in the past three weeks, Hale. This is not good enough." My father said angrily, as he stabbed a pea in his plate.
"We were late to class." I sighed pushing around the carrots in my plate, "It's not like I killed anyone."
"You might as well have. It's not good for us or our business if you go running around causing trouble. Educaiton is important, Hale. I'd like to see you apply yourself." My father was beginning for one of his epically long tales, it seemed, about how he grew up in famine and how he took nothing for granted, especially education, "I grew up with nothing, Hale. Nothing. You don't know how lucky you are."
I snorted, "Yeah, my parents are so loving they're marrying my off to a guy whose ten years older than me."
My father glared at me as he continued, "I barely had enough to eat. And I took nothing –nothing – for granted. Especially not-"
"Education" My mother finished, rolling her eyes at my father. It was almost every day he gave that speech. "In all seriousness," my mother continued, "You have to understand that your marriage to Peter is for stability. A stability I used to wish for. He a nice man, Hale, and he's quite handsome. You're lucky your not marrying one of your father's other partners."
"I don't want stability." I nearly screeched, "I want a choice."
"I'll give you a choice." My father replied dryly, eyeing his peas in disgust, "Do what we say or get out of our house. Go live with some middle class family. See how you like it."
"Hale, please. You'll change your mind once you get to know him." My mother tried to sooth the both of us, "And that will be next week, after the wedding." She added.
I nearly swallowed my fork in shock, I watched the expression of my father change to one of triumph.
"I wouldn't be wearing that expression until you get me down that damned aisle." I snapped.
"There's no aisle. It's just a few people at a courthouse, Hale." My father quipped, flicking a pea at one of the painting on the walls.
"What?" I nearly died, "No church?"
"Maybe a few flowers, George." My mother interjected.
"No flowers, Maria." My father replied, annoyed at the sudden intervention. He didn't really care if we had flowers or not, my dad just loved to argue with my mum. My Dad once told me that I was conceived during an argument. It really was unnecessaryfor him to tell me that, but he did, because that's what my Dad does. Sometimes I wonder how a guy like him could be so successful.
"You'll have flowers, darling." As usual, my mum always won, though.
"But what about a poofy, white dress?" I asked in despair, "I've got to have a poofy white dress."
"Maybe a nice white summer dress." My mother replied as my father said 'jeans and a top.'
The despair must have been written all over my face.
"Hale, it's just a marriage." My father began.
"No!" I yelled slamming my plate on the table as I stood up. A few of the maids turned around startled. "It's not just a marriage, it's my marriage. My marriage to a man I don't even want to marry." And with that I stormed out of the room, and to my bedroom.
Yeah, Mondays were always bad.
I hated Mondays.
A/N: So i have started a new story, but i had this idea in my head...what do you think, worth continuing?
(The next chapter for nobody wants you will be up within the week.)
Free the Dancing Llamas