-The Dreamer-

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-The Dreamer-

Post  RabidSponge on Thu Jun 03, 2010 5:52 pm

[Ooc: Just a quick one this time around. Sorry if the writing style is a little different, I set it in Maths, but I wrote it in English and was influenced by Shakespeare's way of writing. You know how after reading a book, you tend to absorb the style of the author? That kind of happened here...
-Based on a true story-]


The teacher was a broken record, droning on and on about a subject that, truthfully, no-one in the class really cared about. Heads were lolling lazily on the desks, and eyelids were slowly drooping closed, shielding the tired looks the students held. Even the teacher seemed weary as she spoke of a subject lost to the girls’ ears.

I was of no exception.

My head had long since become one with the desk as I watched the teacher amble around the room, eyelids heavy over sleepy eyes. My light hair had spilled around my face, creating a cushion for my overloaded brain against the hardwood table. The students were steadily wilting beneath the heat of boredom, and now only one remained sitting even remotely upright.

Sam was still standing strong, her body upright and her head propped upon the palm of her hand. She seemed intent on focusing on the lesson, and I felt a smile creeping to my lips as I commended her efforts inwardly. I shifted myself forwards on the desk to look at her face, and mine soon fell upon seeing the blank expression written there. She was watching the ground, her eyes never moving, never blinking, not once. She merely stared at that one square of fabric, afraid that if she moved, it would scamper from her view forever. Her eyes were glazed and her pupils dilated, filling the hazel with an empty void of black darkness. The dark blonde’s face was distant, the corner of her lips twitching into a slight smile as something only she could see flashed behind her eyes.

Sam wasn’t actually here.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion, observing her carefully. Not a muscle moved, she was barely breathing beneath the thick layers of the school uniform; the tunic, the blazer, the tie. Her eyes still hadn’t twitched to blink, and I soon became aware just how out of it Sam really was. The dazed teenager was lost in a daydream, caught in the workings of her own mind as scene after scene of something exciting danced across her gaze. I began to wonder what she was thinking as I observed her, watching as her eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. Something bad must have happened in her mind.

The lesson droned on in a similar fashion, the students groaning inwardly and wishing for the sun to smile upon their dreary faces, for lunch to saunter down into their stomachs. I was ready for the hour of free time that awaited me with open arms, but the Dreamer beside me captured all of my attention. But whenever I looked at her, the silent artist, all I saw was a blank stare; an indication that while her body was with us, her mind wandered elsewhere.

Suddenly, I wanted to know just where she was.


"Can we pretend that aeroplanes in the night are shooting stars?"
"I could really use a wish right now."


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