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#MondaywithBarbie&Ed
#MondaywithBarbie&Ed
If you were asking what I was doing right now, I would say observing the beautiful scenery outside of the glass window in the Detention Room. The waning sunlight blanketed the dark color of the inanimate trees’ bark giving the viewer who happened to be me this depressing sensation. Or was it me who spread the sadness into the atmosphere? The room temperature was definitely not high because even though I had geared up myself with a gray handmade beanie and a knitted terracotta polo-neck jumper for the England’s bitterly cold winter, the sharp chill air still somehow managed to make my body tremor. I glanced at Mr. Weasley, he looked as round as a table-tennis ball in his huge padded jacket. The old man was deeply in sleep. Ugh….
Now, had the question: “Why are you in a detention room?” come up in your thoughts, I would say: “It’s a long story.”
.
.
.
Things all started after my leaving Brad. Rushing to the first class, I was overwhelmed with worry. My Biology teacher was a very strict woman. Her husband was the rules and she dedicated her entire life obeying “him”. If someone in the class did not follow the rules, detention shall be waiting for that person when school was over. Pushing the door open, I found twenty pairs of eyes which have a range of various colors pinned on me. Guess that was what I had to bear with for coming late to class. Ms. Grunger looked at me with dissatisfaction but said nothing. Thank God that she turned a blind eye to me on the rare occasion. As I strolled down the narrow gangway, there were a few glances of jealousy following me to my seat. Yeah, nobody had ever had Ms. Grunger forgiven until today. But then, just when my seat started to get warmer, Ms. Grunger called me up and gave a list of questions on the previous lesson.
I remembered clearly the desperate me glanced over to my lab partner, Angie, begging for aid. Her eyes had obviously met mine but she turned away with a sign of declination. I felt like my whole world came crashing down and then, Ms. Grunger made the announcement of my staying behind afterschool. I didn’t even perceived why the atmosphere of the class was better after hearing my penalty.
And that was how I got here, in the detention room. Sadly, this was just the first half of my tragic Monday.
A few hours ago…
As soon as the bell rang, the hall was inundated with students hurrying for their next classes. It would be easy to spot a radiant blonde hair among many dark browns. I squeezed myself through the throng of people trying to catch up with my best friend.
“Angie!” My voice had sounded like a tiny whisper compared to all the cacophony in the hall.
Knowing well that to call out for her was impossible in my current situation, I quickened my speed, took longer steps, and pushed others a bit hard to get space. Rewarded my hardship was Angie right next to me. She must have acknowledged my presence, though her eyes didn’t even bother to look down at me.
“Angie.” I said, praying that she wouldn’t behave like a child and ignore me.
“Yes?” Angie, still not sparing me a glimpse, said nonchalantly.
“Can you please hear me out?”
‘I suggest you leave them alone.’
Oh, screw the idea, Edward. You don’t get the situation. (That was what I had thought but now I was sure to have regretted my decision.)
Finally, my dark brown eyes found the other’s turquoise ones. I could feel the tension between us. Her eyes were full of doubts. Both of Angie’s arms folded across her chest. Some students glanced over at us as they walked by but quickly turned away when Angie sent them her what-are-you-looking-at glares.
“Y-you see,” Shit. I did not just stutter! “The reason as to why Brad’s working at Nando’s is …”
Right at that moment, that landmark, Brad’s doleful expression had to appear in my mind and ruin the whole confession. How he had worked hard despite his being intrinsically opulence, the way he told me with excitement about his grand surprise party, they just flashed through my mind like an old but lively documentary.
“Is what? What is the reason?” Angie drawled out.
“It’s a secret. And I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone. But the reason is not what you think. There was, is and never will be an affair between us.”
“Oh, so pray tell, since when did you guys become so close?”
“What? We did no-“ I was trying to explain but she interjected me beforehand.
“Telling each other secrets.”
“Ange-“
“That’s enough. I have no need to hear more. We are done talking.” The ice in her voice made me shudder. I baulked at the idea to follow her. Supposing I had wanted to, it still would have been fairly impossible then; my legs were bound up with the floor like a tree piercing its roots into the ground. People shoved me, told me to move aside as I stood there, motionless. None of them could make me care less. My mind went blank. Rapidly repeating again and again in my head was our conversation. That was when it hit me.
Crap, I shouldn’t have said that. I should have just left them alone.
After that, I spent the next four periods in misery then dragged myself to the detention room. It was obvious that Mr. Weasley was in middle of packing his things to leave since there was no one in the room for him to keep an eye on. Students in Collins High never went to the detention room even if they had to. They’d rather ditch it or behave obediently so that they would never have to enter the D room again. 99 percent chose to do the first option. Having been so used to that fact, Mr. Weasley let out a sigh as he saw me standing like an idiot outside..
.
.
“Maybe I should have just gone home.” I mumbled under my breath; Mr. Weasley purposely coughed while giving me the admonitory look.
Rubbing both of my palms together hard, I let out a sigh as the soft white fog shortly appeared in front me before saturating into the atmosphere. My eyes shifted to where the clock was every now and then. It was a grandfather one. There was this question formed in my mind when I first saw the clock.
‘Why do they have to make it so huge?’
I felt like it would take forever for this clock to move its hands. Mr. Weasley said when the clock’s hour hand moved to the digit 5, I was free to leave. Right now was only a quarter past four, meaning I was going to waste 45 minutes of my life doing completely nothing! Well, except for, obviously, staring into the void. Mr. Weasley had taken my bag and had only left me a pencil with a piece of paper. And at this moment, the paper was replete with doodles.
Furtively I slid my hand into my jeans’ right pocket and slowly pulled out my mobile phone. My thumb swiped across the screen to unlock. My wallpaper was a picture of Niall in his casual clothes, walking on the street. I always found his normal, off-stage self was most lovable. My finger flicked through different pages on the phone while my brain was occupied with searching games. Oh, I just remembered, I didn’t install any games in my phone. Applications had made it slow enough.
Boredom crept its way inside me. Forty minutes were left and there was nothing I could do to make any use of it. So, I started stabbing the clock repeatedly inside my head, you know, to kill time. Excuse my lameness; boredom did that to me on a daily basis. In my whole life, I treasured time, and tried to use it in the most effective ways as Benjamin Franklin once said,
“Remember that time is money.” Yeah, and never in my life had I ever wasted a second. Until today. And that just drove me frenzy.
As I was “killing time” mentally and physically, an unforeseen vibration unexpectedly arrived and the strange tingling ran through my hands. My fingers were shocked. As a result, the phone, which was in my palms, had flown out of my grasp and performed a flawless 360-degrees spin. OH MY GOD! BLOODY HELL! A painful wince came out of my throat, I felt like my heart had cracked into thousands of tiny pieces scattered on the ground as my beloved smart phone roughly emerged with the hard icy floor. What the hell? Yesterday was Macy and now is my phone?! Does God have problems with my stuffs? I had practically jumped out of my desk to grab my phone.
Are you OK, sweetie? Nothing fell out of you, did it? Honey, stay with me!!
With the combination of two cacophonies in a tranquil room, Mr. Weasley bolted up half awake half asleep. OK, DOUBLE BLOODY HELL!!
Shit shit shit shit shit shit…
The man quickly fixed his foggy glasses; his hand was wiping the drools. Ew… By the time he had done waking himself up, the phone was gracefully backed in my pocket.
Please just let it go, please just let it go…
“What was that?” He queried.
“What was what, sir?” I shifted a bit in my seat. My heart beat fast like the drum roll.
“The noise…” He hesitantly said. His finger was pointing at something.
“What noise, sir?” With the most innocent voice, I inquired. There was a flash of confusion on his expression as his index finger moved up to rub his temple.
Let it go, Mr. Weasley.
His dark and sunken eyes glanced at the clock. It was half past four. He coughed and turned his eyes onto me.
“It is late.” He coughed again. “You should go home now.” There were faint pink tinges on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? Why would he be embarrassed? Did he forget to zip his pants while he was sleeping and he thought I saw it? Or did he th- Oh, wait, did he just say I could go home?
“Yes, you’re absolutely right, sir. It is late. You should go home and get some rest, too sir.” I tried my best to sound caring; he totally fell for it.
“Thank you, Amelia. Be careful on your way home.” He said.
“Yes, Mr. Weasley.” I swiftly picked up my bag next to the door, and walked out of the D room in jubilation. And it struck me.
The phone!
.
.
Well, it was fine if you didn’t count having a huge crack on the screen as a problem… This was just perfect. Three times in a row… What did I do to have such an honor, God? Maybe I should go to the church and ask for some sort of redemptions, though I hadn't done anything wrong.
My finger pressed on the home button, hopefully there was nothing else wrong. To my on-the-verge-of-suicide self, the home screen appeared. Relief came back to my side. Yes!
One new notification on Twitter? Wow… I never have new notifications from Twitter. Yeah, I’m literally a nobody up there. Wait, so my phone buzzed because of this?!! Dear who ever made that notification, you are so dead! Let’s find out who is the culprit of the mess, shall we?
.
.
.
.
Oh, this is just the UTMOST wonderful…
I should have known.
.
.
.
@hesloveturtles: Hiiiiiiiiiiii.
~*~*~*~
If you were asking what I was doing right now, I would say observing the beautiful scenery outside of the glass window in the Detention Room. The waning sunlight blanketed the dark color of the inanimate trees’ bark giving the viewer who happened to be me this depressing sensation. Or was it me who spread the sadness into the atmosphere? The room temperature was definitely not high because even though I had geared up myself with a gray handmade beanie and a knitted terracotta polo-neck jumper for the England’s bitterly cold winter, the sharp chill air still somehow managed to make my body tremor. I glanced at Mr. Weasley, he looked as round as a table-tennis ball in his huge padded jacket. The old man was deeply in sleep. Ugh….
Now, had the question: “Why are you in a detention room?” come up in your thoughts, I would say: “It’s a long story.”
.
.
.
Things all started after my leaving Brad. Rushing to the first class, I was overwhelmed with worry. My Biology teacher was a very strict woman. Her husband was the rules and she dedicated her entire life obeying “him”. If someone in the class did not follow the rules, detention shall be waiting for that person when school was over. Pushing the door open, I found twenty pairs of eyes which have a range of various colors pinned on me. Guess that was what I had to bear with for coming late to class. Ms. Grunger looked at me with dissatisfaction but said nothing. Thank God that she turned a blind eye to me on the rare occasion. As I strolled down the narrow gangway, there were a few glances of jealousy following me to my seat. Yeah, nobody had ever had Ms. Grunger forgiven until today. But then, just when my seat started to get warmer, Ms. Grunger called me up and gave a list of questions on the previous lesson.
I remembered clearly the desperate me glanced over to my lab partner, Angie, begging for aid. Her eyes had obviously met mine but she turned away with a sign of declination. I felt like my whole world came crashing down and then, Ms. Grunger made the announcement of my staying behind afterschool. I didn’t even perceived why the atmosphere of the class was better after hearing my penalty.
And that was how I got here, in the detention room. Sadly, this was just the first half of my tragic Monday.
A few hours ago…
As soon as the bell rang, the hall was inundated with students hurrying for their next classes. It would be easy to spot a radiant blonde hair among many dark browns. I squeezed myself through the throng of people trying to catch up with my best friend.
“Angie!” My voice had sounded like a tiny whisper compared to all the cacophony in the hall.
Knowing well that to call out for her was impossible in my current situation, I quickened my speed, took longer steps, and pushed others a bit hard to get space. Rewarded my hardship was Angie right next to me. She must have acknowledged my presence, though her eyes didn’t even bother to look down at me.
“Angie.” I said, praying that she wouldn’t behave like a child and ignore me.
“Yes?” Angie, still not sparing me a glimpse, said nonchalantly.
“Can you please hear me out?”
‘I suggest you leave them alone.’
Oh, screw the idea, Edward. You don’t get the situation. (That was what I had thought but now I was sure to have regretted my decision.)
Finally, my dark brown eyes found the other’s turquoise ones. I could feel the tension between us. Her eyes were full of doubts. Both of Angie’s arms folded across her chest. Some students glanced over at us as they walked by but quickly turned away when Angie sent them her what-are-you-looking-at glares.
“Y-you see,” Shit. I did not just stutter! “The reason as to why Brad’s working at Nando’s is …”
Right at that moment, that landmark, Brad’s doleful expression had to appear in my mind and ruin the whole confession. How he had worked hard despite his being intrinsically opulence, the way he told me with excitement about his grand surprise party, they just flashed through my mind like an old but lively documentary.
“Is what? What is the reason?” Angie drawled out.
“It’s a secret. And I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone. But the reason is not what you think. There was, is and never will be an affair between us.”
“Oh, so pray tell, since when did you guys become so close?”
“What? We did no-“ I was trying to explain but she interjected me beforehand.
“Telling each other secrets.”
“Ange-“
“That’s enough. I have no need to hear more. We are done talking.” The ice in her voice made me shudder. I baulked at the idea to follow her. Supposing I had wanted to, it still would have been fairly impossible then; my legs were bound up with the floor like a tree piercing its roots into the ground. People shoved me, told me to move aside as I stood there, motionless. None of them could make me care less. My mind went blank. Rapidly repeating again and again in my head was our conversation. That was when it hit me.
Crap, I shouldn’t have said that. I should have just left them alone.
After that, I spent the next four periods in misery then dragged myself to the detention room. It was obvious that Mr. Weasley was in middle of packing his things to leave since there was no one in the room for him to keep an eye on. Students in Collins High never went to the detention room even if they had to. They’d rather ditch it or behave obediently so that they would never have to enter the D room again. 99 percent chose to do the first option. Having been so used to that fact, Mr. Weasley let out a sigh as he saw me standing like an idiot outside..
.
.
“Maybe I should have just gone home.” I mumbled under my breath; Mr. Weasley purposely coughed while giving me the admonitory look.
Rubbing both of my palms together hard, I let out a sigh as the soft white fog shortly appeared in front me before saturating into the atmosphere. My eyes shifted to where the clock was every now and then. It was a grandfather one. There was this question formed in my mind when I first saw the clock.
‘Why do they have to make it so huge?’
I felt like it would take forever for this clock to move its hands. Mr. Weasley said when the clock’s hour hand moved to the digit 5, I was free to leave. Right now was only a quarter past four, meaning I was going to waste 45 minutes of my life doing completely nothing! Well, except for, obviously, staring into the void. Mr. Weasley had taken my bag and had only left me a pencil with a piece of paper. And at this moment, the paper was replete with doodles.
Furtively I slid my hand into my jeans’ right pocket and slowly pulled out my mobile phone. My thumb swiped across the screen to unlock. My wallpaper was a picture of Niall in his casual clothes, walking on the street. I always found his normal, off-stage self was most lovable. My finger flicked through different pages on the phone while my brain was occupied with searching games. Oh, I just remembered, I didn’t install any games in my phone. Applications had made it slow enough.
Boredom crept its way inside me. Forty minutes were left and there was nothing I could do to make any use of it. So, I started stabbing the clock repeatedly inside my head, you know, to kill time. Excuse my lameness; boredom did that to me on a daily basis. In my whole life, I treasured time, and tried to use it in the most effective ways as Benjamin Franklin once said,
“Remember that time is money.” Yeah, and never in my life had I ever wasted a second. Until today. And that just drove me frenzy.
As I was “killing time” mentally and physically, an unforeseen vibration unexpectedly arrived and the strange tingling ran through my hands. My fingers were shocked. As a result, the phone, which was in my palms, had flown out of my grasp and performed a flawless 360-degrees spin. OH MY GOD! BLOODY HELL! A painful wince came out of my throat, I felt like my heart had cracked into thousands of tiny pieces scattered on the ground as my beloved smart phone roughly emerged with the hard icy floor. What the hell? Yesterday was Macy and now is my phone?! Does God have problems with my stuffs? I had practically jumped out of my desk to grab my phone.
Are you OK, sweetie? Nothing fell out of you, did it? Honey, stay with me!!
With the combination of two cacophonies in a tranquil room, Mr. Weasley bolted up half awake half asleep. OK, DOUBLE BLOODY HELL!!
Shit shit shit shit shit shit…
The man quickly fixed his foggy glasses; his hand was wiping the drools. Ew… By the time he had done waking himself up, the phone was gracefully backed in my pocket.
Please just let it go, please just let it go…
“What was that?” He queried.
“What was what, sir?” I shifted a bit in my seat. My heart beat fast like the drum roll.
“The noise…” He hesitantly said. His finger was pointing at something.
“What noise, sir?” With the most innocent voice, I inquired. There was a flash of confusion on his expression as his index finger moved up to rub his temple.
Let it go, Mr. Weasley.
His dark and sunken eyes glanced at the clock. It was half past four. He coughed and turned his eyes onto me.
“It is late.” He coughed again. “You should go home now.” There were faint pink tinges on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed? Why would he be embarrassed? Did he forget to zip his pants while he was sleeping and he thought I saw it? Or did he th- Oh, wait, did he just say I could go home?
“Yes, you’re absolutely right, sir. It is late. You should go home and get some rest, too sir.” I tried my best to sound caring; he totally fell for it.
“Thank you, Amelia. Be careful on your way home.” He said.
“Yes, Mr. Weasley.” I swiftly picked up my bag next to the door, and walked out of the D room in jubilation. And it struck me.
The phone!
.
.
Well, it was fine if you didn’t count having a huge crack on the screen as a problem… This was just perfect. Three times in a row… What did I do to have such an honor, God? Maybe I should go to the church and ask for some sort of redemptions, though I hadn't done anything wrong.
My finger pressed on the home button, hopefully there was nothing else wrong. To my on-the-verge-of-suicide self, the home screen appeared. Relief came back to my side. Yes!
One new notification on Twitter? Wow… I never have new notifications from Twitter. Yeah, I’m literally a nobody up there. Wait, so my phone buzzed because of this?!! Dear who ever made that notification, you are so dead! Let’s find out who is the culprit of the mess, shall we?
.
.
.
.
Oh, this is just the UTMOST wonderful…
I should have known.
.
.
.
@hesloveturtles: Hiiiiiiiiiiii.
~*~*~*~
I will! I love this story and I don't care who hears it! :) thank you!
12/29/13