A Twisted Fairytale ( gymdogs story contest so this isnt finished)

This is the story for gymdogs contest hope you like it ! Comment please !

Chapter 2

Have I Found It

My father slams the door closed, but before I enter outside. Outside. What would it feel like? No, homeschooling doesn't mean you're inside everyday. But my father never let me out. Ever. His exact words, "Outside distracts you from whats important.Work.". Over and over again. And if I replied, by the end of the day my arms would be blistered with welts. To my father, I'm an unstable scrap of flesh; a waste of space.

A door between me and what people call the world.

And then there's this moment. One soothing breath of fresh air reels me in. One little touch of bright, delicate flowers. One echo of a small childs laughter fills the place around me. One ray of sunshine so warming, so glorious. One little chirp from a single bird; music to my ears. I stand in silence, and feel the enlightenment of nature overpower me.

"Rosalinda!What the are you doing?", my father screams. "First day of school! If you make me late for work I'll beat you! Get in the car!". Amazing. It's amazing. How unthoughtful my father is. I wanted to reply back and curse back, but I already have bruises and don't need more.

I get in the car, and escape from the most pleasant thing so far that is in my life. Outside.

It's been half of one hour and I feel like I've been in jail. Or home. As if I have no source of light what so ever. My father, in the seat next to the driver, is on a phone call mumbling curse words about the subject. The driver, with a most utterly uninterested expression on his face, says loudly, " We're here. Get your stuff".

My father doesn't even boer to get out of the car, or say goodbye to his daughter on her first real day into the world of what is called, "high school". I shut the small, square trunk and stand before the large building. As I gaze up at it curiouser and curiouser, I hear the car shoot off, making the wheels let out a terrible screech.

I feel like a peasant. A lonely girl, lost in the forest of an unknown life. I have been missing out in so much amazement, but what my father didnt understand was the difference from good and bad. Great from sin. I start to walk forward,and brace myself for a whole new life.

My long brown hair bounces up and down slightly against the wind. My head down, shows I probably don't belong. I finally get the courage to put my head up. Everyone is staring at me. Some curious, others with an exprrssion of pure evil. And one girl in particular. Her strait blonde hair is pushed away by her hand, but her green eyes look like they could possess you. She tries to walk towards me, but I start to walk faster.

"Excuse me?", I say to the lady at the front desk. She looks up, but doesn't say anything. "I have been assigned to the room number of 213. May you please help me find this establishment?". She looks up at me like I'm completely insane, but she says as politely as she can, "To the left. Third door to the left." I count doors, only to find something that reminds me of my childhood stories.

Seven boys. Each quiet, each curious. There is no teacher, or adult to chaperone us. One, in the back of the room, sleeping while drooling all over a math book.
Another, on a board in the front of the room, writing away numbers even I can't understand. Even another, right in the middle of the room, playing an instrument much likea violin, but he's using his hands? Right next to him, a boy with a sketchbook in hand, painting with such concentration. There's even another, scrambling through a bag full of food. And next to him, is a boy mumbling to himself about something that obviousley looks important.

And the last, a boy who just stares at me. With a face that much reminds me of my father. He speaks slowly, "Who are you?". "My name is Rosalinda.I was assigned to this room.What exactly are supposed to do here?", I say politely, not with a hiss of evil. " We call him creepy", the boy with the notebook says.

"I'm Drew.", he says. Drew seems to match his personality. He explains everyone else, while they are way too into their priorities. Drew, Creepy, Arnold, the math genious, Slepen ( still drooling ), Musian (still playing the wierd object), Eathan (with sauce all over his mouth), and Mumble, is what they call the guy in the corner.

"Drew?", I say. "Who exactly is this group?".

"We're the Sevens".

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