Obstinate Elitists

7

The dining room was exquisite. A dark, wooden table extended long within the room and a chandelier hung over it, sparkling golden light throughout the space. As someone who previously lived in a cramp home with a small, squared table that could barely fit the food been bought, you were in awed. Another thing was that you absolutely felt out of place -- someone who did not fit in well with a life of luxury and was undeserving of it. Playing with the food on your table, you were currently eating a cold dinner after this new mother of yours scolded you for coming home so late.

The woman shifted in her seat in front of you, her expression less angry from earlier. Not in the mood to strike up a conversation, you pretended not to notice, plopping the vegetables into your mouth. Unfortunately, she began speaking, so you had no choice but to talk to her, unless you wanted to get scolded again for your... behavior. "So how was the first day of school today?" she asked you, her [e/c] hues glistening in curiosity.

"It was good," you lied, forcing a small smile on your lips. Mentally praying to god, you hoped the lady wouldn't ask you to elaborate.

"Care to tell me more...?"

The sigh threatened to come out, but you clamped your mouth shut. Scrunching the fabrics of your uniform, you nervously thought of something... anything to talk about. "Well, we were just relearning basics, so it was... um, easy today. I also made a friend and that was great, I suppose."

"I see," she said, nodding in satisfaction. "Do you have a favorite class yet?"

"Education," you said with no hesitation. Though it was a 60 minute class that compacted every subject you learned in your past life, it was the most familiar thing to you. Sitting in that classroom with a desk in front of you felt like the most homely and it brought a sense of comfort to you. Writing, math, reading, science, history... all of it was something you could do, much better than most of the students in the class. With your confidence on a down low after every class before it, Education made you feel instantly better.

It was not surprising when she furrowed her forehead in dismay. Shit. Curse your slip up. You should've mentioned you enjoyed running instead. "Of course that can be your favorite class, but don't let it get to your head, dear. Make sure to work hard on the other classes too, because they're much more important to your future."

It was hard to understand. Why were things such as martial arts and archery important in the adult life? Careers should be based on education and the experiences one has gained throughout their life. The more you thought about it, the more stumped you were. It was strange... right? Did the jobs here differ?

The rest of your dinner went on quietly, as you answered a few more of her questions and finished your plate. The woman decided to stop bothering you when your responses were clipped, one sentences, clearly warning her that you did not want to talk. Once you were done, you pushed yourself up from the chair. Politely bidding her goodnight, you cleaned up after yourself and trailed back to the hallway that led to your supposedly bedroom.

Door closing and locking behind you, you let out a sigh. The numb feeling from this morning had worn off, being replaced by these hopeless thoughts that consumed your mind. This wasn't what you wanted nor needed. A second chance at life? Bullshit. What were you living for anymore if school wasn't the same? Who were you living for if your parents weren't here to see you successful? You had always been on track your entire life and never crossed a line... so why did you have to restart? There was nothing more you'd like to do than quit. Was it possible? Especially since you were living in a grand house already? What difference did it make to graduate?

Remembering the notebook from earlier this morning, you stumbled over to the bed across the room. The book was where you left it this morning, resting on one of the pillows. Picking it up and quickly turning over the cover, you flipped through the pages until you arrived at a blank page. Endless question flew through your head, so you wrote down the one deemed most crucial. A pen was conveniently tapered to the back of the item, so you used the tool and dipped its ink down on paper.