• Emmeline rolled over displeased, irritated at the screaming alarm clock in her ear. She stared at the clock for a moment, wanting to smash it against the wall for awaking her at 6:45 in the bloody morning. Aggravated, she not only pounded her fist into the sleep button or thrust the annoyance into the nearest wall, but sighed and made a distasteful attempt to get out of bed. Light from behind a blinded window provided just enough site to find a red marker from her nightstand. Facing the wall where the shattered alarm clock lay, she swiftly uncapped the marker and placed a rather large "X" over the eleventh of august on her wall calendar. Only one hundred and seventy nine school days left to go.


    Scratching her ratty head and rubbing her eyes, young Emmeline somehow, through her dreary haze, managed to find her way to the mirror where she began to inspect herself. Sighing in disappointment, the teen tediously meandered to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room where she picked through everything to find a wrinkled pink shirt and a pair of jeans, among other unmentionables. The pink shirt fit nicely, and had a cute white accent stripe that went across her abdomen, and the jeans fit well, but not as they used to. They seemed to have grown smaller. She began to stare at herself in disbelieve. It had seemed that the summer had not been kind.



    Emmeline turned sixteen over the summer, which wasn't of course, the only thing that seemed slightly wrong. She had grown taller, and darker, but not as dark as she would have liked. Emmeline was considerably taller than most, and would be, in today's stereo-typical standards, be a quote unquote stick. But aside from her personal description, she was noticeably pretty from other points of views. She had long auburn hair that fell to the small of her back, and bright blue eyes, eyes that seemed significantly brighter in certain lights.



    The tall slender teen stared at her reflection that seemed like hours. Most likely, she would have continued to stare if her fathers voice hadn't echoed into her eyes. Sighing wearily, she soon descended the stairs out side of her room, neglecting to brush her mop of auburn hair. She waited until her fathers back was turned to move. Once turned she began to make a stealthy attempt for the front door. That plan quickly failed, however, when her father foiled her plans.



    "Emmeline, dear, aren't you hungry?" The question had become so dull that she mocked it every time she heard it, moving her mouth to the words. The reply was always the same; "no" today was different, however, for today she would reply 'Not in the least' and be on her way.


    Today would be the first day of school, and she was absolutely positive it wouldn't be a good one. There would be seven hours where she would have to sit and quietly endure rules while simultaneously amusing herself in some manner or another. Today would become the beginning of many days, as every day is, a new beginning. This beginning would be rather boring, however. Today, like any other day, would be a routine, but not just any routine. A routine that would last one hundred and eighty days, not including weeks ends, with a distant freedom that would last less than three months. School had officially ruined what would be an otherwise perfect year.