A Dustland Fairytale

Saw Cinderella in a party dress, but she was looking for a night gown.

I saw the devil wrapping up his hands, he's getting ready for the show down.

I saw the ending when they turned the page, I threw my money and I ran away. 

Sent to the valley of the great divide

Out where the dreams all hide,

Out where the wind don't blow,

Out here the good girls die,

And the sky won't snow.

Out the here the bird don't do sing,

How here the field don't grow,

Out here the bell don't ring,

Out here the bell don't ring.

Out here the good girls die....

Volume 1.

When she came into school that Monday, Dawn Edward's heart was taken and squeezed in the fist of reality -- only to have it shattered. She watched as the pieces scattered pathetically across the dull, gray carpet of her senior class English teacher's classroom. Not Mr. Smith.. Not Frankenstein, not her sweet and beautiful English teacher, Johnny. This just couldn't be. Quickly, she cupped her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking out loud and making a complete fool of herself in front of her fellow class-men. A few of the drama queens in the class had already begun to tear up, or cry into their arms while Dawn stared with wide eyes at Miss King, whom looked completely in her own state of shock. But not as greatly shocked as Dawn was. A few of her class-men's eyes drifted to her-- everyone knew Dawn had a crush on Mr. Smith. She was made fun of constantly for it, but it never really got to her too much. It was a running joke. For the students and the teachers. 

Her wide blue eyes drifted to the few drawings she had made Mr. Smith over the school year. He had hung them with magnets on the corner of the chalkboard that was closest to his desk. (He would have put them away for safe keeping, had she not demanded he hung them for show). It wasn't abnormal for her to stay after class with him, and help with grading papers, or clean off his chalkboard; sometimes she would just stay to talk to him. He was a wonderful listener, and a wonderful advice-giver. 

The one glance at his teacher's desk was enough to send her over the edge, and all at once she felt the warm and salty tears begin to flow.. Pathetically, she covered her face with her hands to try and hide herself away from all the eyes but it was no use. Blood was rushing to her cheeks.. it was roaring in her ears. Sobbing noises stifled from her, and before she could have been aware of it, she was trembling terribly. A hand was placed on her shoulder, making her flinch gently -- but by the smell of the form next to her, she realized that it was the vice principle, Sonja King. (It was a well known fact that the principle always smelled of honeysuckle and mint, probably from the several bowls of potpourri she kept in her office). Her voice whispered gently into Dawn's ear, but at first the girl couldn't make out the words. Muffled sounds at first.. As distant as the faint whispers that were being exchanged around the classroom. Then a warm voice, whispering to her. "Dawn, honey, would you like to go to the nurse and gather yourself? Are you going to be ill? Come on, come to my room. I don't have a meeting this period, come on dear."

Dawn shook her head, rising to her feet and grabbing her book bag, throwing it carelessly onto her right  shoulder and following Miss King out of the room. Once she was away from the eyes, she could speak at last though it was extremely muffled and tear filled. Quickly, she halted on her toes. "I'd like to go-- hh-home." She stuttered gently over her words, but Sonja nodded and guided her to the nurse's office where she watched helplessly as the poor girl weeped into the phone. Dawn felt the eyes burning sympathetically into the back of her head, and her cheeks got hot with her own sadness and rage.. It was alwas an unpleasant feeling, the feeling of people's eyes stuck on you as if you were some kind of freak.