All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Chapter 1, Part 2
***I still don't own Doctor Who or any of the things that go with it***
Amber clutched her new school supplies tightly. She was about to embark on a difficult journey. Starting today, she was going to be a freshman in high school. She was nervous and excited. Cora and Allie had gone to the private school, but Amber’s mom kept her enrolled in the public system. She could finally make some friends. Nobody knew her as weird or a “religious freak”. She could be herself and still make new friends. She walked into the doors as confidently as all the other high school students. The only difference was, she didn’t stick her tongue out at the lion statue at the entrance to the school. All the other kids did this because they knew the Governor had a camera in it.
At first, things seemed to be going well. She sat by someone in her first hour class who talked to her, but then the kid wouldn’t stop talking. At lunch, some sophomores invited her to sit by them, but then they only talked to each other and ignored her completely.By the endo of the day, Amber realized that everyone already had a set of friends, and they didn’t need a new one to join their group. This high school had the steryotypes just as much as any other: the cheerleaders, the jocks, the nerds, and more. But Amber didn’t feel like she fit into any of them. By the end of the week, Amber kept to herself. She had tried talking to people a few more times, but they just ignored her. She felt more judged here than she had in her whole life. To make matters worse, the rumor had somehow spread that Amber actually liked the Governor and his policies. She didn’t like him, or his policies, but she also didn’t hate him. Kids acted like she was a blackshirt’s daughter, but the problem was that the blackshirt’s kids ignored her, too. Then things got even worse. Kids found out about her caring heart. They started teasing her, and doing bad things around her just because they knew she didn’t like it. Amber couldn’t wait to get home from school each day. And yet, she still prayed for them. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt more sorry for them than angry. Sometimes she would accidentally bump into her in the hallway, and she would swear she saw a tiny glimpse of their lives. Only for a second, though. It was like turning a television on, and then immediately turning it off again. Usually, the flashes she saw were sad things: parents arguing, the death of a grandparent, the loss of a pet, and other things.Whenever this happened, she noticed they stared at her for a moment, like Cora had all those years ago. Amber told her mom about it once, but her mom just dismissed it.
“You always have such a crazy imagination, Amber.”
But Amber wasn’t so sure she didn’t see a hint of worry in her mom’s eyes.
Tears flowed down Amber’s cheeks. Nothing terrible had happened in her life, and she was in no physical pain. So why was she crying? Because her 10th grade history class was watching a film about the holocaust, and she couldn’t bear to watch it. She wondered how any human being could do such a terrible thing to innocent people, and why no one had spoken up about it. The Governor was a terrible man, true enough, but he never killed anyone. At least, no one who followed the rules. She felt someone tugging on her braids, which had, up to that point, been hanging at her heels. Amber turned around, even though she knew they were going to make fun of her.
“Aw, is wittle baby Ambew sad?”
Amber just turned back around. When they had grabbed her braids, though an indirect touch, she had felt their sadness and loneliness. By now she had grown used to seeing tiny pieces of other people’s pasts. Though she still didn’t understand why, she soon would find out. All she knew then was that those bullies had problems of their own. She went back to watching the movie, but closed her eyes almost immediately when she saw the brutal images displayed on the screen.
Amber laid on her bed, crying. It had been an even worse day than usual. After the holocaust movie was over, the kids had all seen her red eyes and tear-stained eyes. As soon as school was out for the day, a circle of kids formed around her and began to chant, tauntingly,
"Little baby Amber,
Sitting in a carriage,
Crying for her momma,
Wah wah wah."
Amber searched the crowd desperately for a kind face, but saw none. She covered her face and ran through the crowd, trying not to let them see the hot tears forming in her eyes. Pushing people out of the way just increased her sadness, because she felt the burden of other's sorrows, too.
Now she was laying on her bed, sobbing into her pillow. She jolted up when she heard a thunderclap.
"That's weird," Amber thought,
"The forecast said there was a zero percent chance of rain."
She felt the same strange pull to look out the window as she had when she was five. She managed to ignore it for a little while, but eventually, her curiosity got the best of her. She could hear the rain, but there were no raindrops on the windowpane. She walked slowly toward the window. Her feet felt like lead, and the window seemed to Amber to be a million miles away.
Finally, she reached the window. She forced her eyes upward to be level with the window, and jumped back in surprise. She tried to turn her head back to the window, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
"Maybe I saw wrong," she thought, trying to convince herself,
"Maybe the rain blurred the image."
She mustered up all her courage, and looked back out the window. Sure enough, it was him. The man she had seen when she was five had returned. This, however, was not what startled her most. The reason she was so surprised was that he looked exactly as he had all those years ago. He appeared to be wearing the same trenchcoat and converses as he had before, and he didn’t look any older, either. She couldn’t do anything but stare. She realized that it was not only the same man, it was the same rain. The thunder followed the exact same pattern, and the rain pounded on the ground, but not on her windowpane. Sweat trickled down her brow. She had stopped crying, but only because her sadness was now overcome by a new emotion. The only problem was, Amber couldn’t decide what that emotion was. Was it fear? Excitement? Nervousness? A combination of all of them? She didn’t know how to identify the emotion, but that was not her biggest problem, so she pushed the thought into the back of her mind. She was concentrating on the man outside. He was standing exactly the way he had been 11 years ago, and he still didn’t seem to be getting wet. This time, she didn’t grab an umbrella, for fear he would disappear again. She just stood, staring out the window. Then she noticed something had changed since the last time. Last time, he had just leaned against the lamp, until she had run to get the umbrella. This time, she noticed, his eyes were following the driveway up to her house. Then they trailed up the house to the second floor, then over to Amber’s window. He appeared to be saying something, so Amber squinted to read his lips. She screamed, drew the curtains closed hurriedly, and ran back into her bed. She covered her head with her blankets, shutting her eyes tight, and whispered to herself,
“It was a dream, it was only a dream.”
She opened her eyes. the thunder had stopped. She warily walked over to the window and peered outside. The moon shone down on a once again empty driveway. The ground was dry, just as it had been that night 11 years ago, and there was no sign of the man anywhere.
“It must have been a dream,” Amber thought,
“How else could he have known my name?”