My life be like: 1962

Chapter One.

Chapter One

The sun brushed down over my school. I hated day light savings. It was so confusing. One minute school was all bright, the next it was all dark? Time was so strange. Time was also my biggest enemy. I was one of the many guilty of killing time. I was a procastinator. I kept putting things off until the last minute, thus making my life a totally and complete mess.

I was never the center of attention. I was one for blending into the shadows, even though my skin was a bright, glowing white. That was another thing about my life. People never saw me. They only saw me. They couldn't see past the colour of my skin, or my hair, or even my features that I couldn't change.

What was wrong with people? I brushed past several students, determined to make it to my class on time. Spanish was one of my least faveourite classes. It seemed to just drag on.

'Hey! Olive! Psst.' Penny nudged the chair next to her, and I plopped down. Penny was my best friend. She was outrageously loud, yet didn't care what anybody said about her. That was why she was my best friend.

'Hey, Pen!' I grabbed out my books, scribbling down the date and ruling off the margin. I saw the teacher turn her head towards me, and I ducked down a little, accidently head-butting the table. I hoped it didn't look very suspicious.

'Late again, Miss Olive Rose?' The teacher snapped the chalk against the table.

Penny nudged me in the ribs. 'I feel a little sorry for all these tables...' I laughed at her joke, earning me a detention. This school was run on some strange non-government system. Sometimes I thought this school was trapped in the year 1962, just like that movie Hairspray.

It wasn't like I didn't like it being 1962 again. I prefered it this way any day. Except for the fact that we didn't suddenly break into song all the time, we could have probably matched Hairspray.

'Sorry Miss Bletcher.' I also wondered where these weird names came from. I mean come on! Bletcher? It sounded like something you might call a cat. To make it worse, that was her first name! It came from "Bletcherinja" but that was too hard for everyone to pronounce so they just call her "Miss Bletcher".

Anyway, so here I was. Sitting in the back of a detention room, filled with children of a different race. My mother had never been one for believing any other religions, and therefore, we were never allowed any free will.

I watched the students dance around the desks, avoiding bumping anything, I was captivated. They were outstanding. I suddenly had a dream. I wanted to be outstanding. Just like them.