Eyes seemed to stair straight into the girl’s head. Drilling into her very skull as if there was more to discover beneath that mess of ebony hair. As though there was a hidden secret that she held from the rest of the world, that everyone tried to pry from her only using their eyes. She seemed completely oblivious to the intense assessment that my fellow classmates gave her. Either she really didn’t notice it, she thought she was too hugh above us all, or she honestly didn’t care. And right from that moment I knew she was different. I knew she was somebody that I would want to get know. A girl unlike the others attending the academy. It was strange that you could tell so much about this one individual, without speaking a single word to her. Her clothes were old and frumpy, yet she pulled it off. Most of the girls at the school wouldn’t be caught dead in old chucks. Her black hair fell in small dreads, surrounding her face. Some of them pulled behind her head. And beneath all that hair a bruised eye was evident. That was enough to set my curiosity aflame like a match to a tissue.
Throughout the boring lecture discussing the unimportant history of the almost ancient Gaelic language, my eyes couldn’t help but glance over at the new girl. Not once does she look up and take note of the lecture. Not even an acknowledgment of the boring and useless things the professor decided to talk about. Her hand moved furiously at the piece of paper before her, her fingers gripping the pen so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white. She seemed to get lost in whatever she was doing. From what I could tell two desk spaces away from her, it was a drawing. Of what, I couldn’t tell. But the skill put into the piece wasn’t what had be intrigued. It was the way she seemed to get lost back in the maze of her mind, her imagination spinning out of control and almost every thought going down on the paper. Spilling out onto a canvas like a dam that had burst open. I almost thought I...
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