The alarming sounds of a bright voice was painful to her ears as it burst through her sleep, through a dream she could not remember. Sunlight burned her fragile sleeping eyelids as her blurred sleepy vision scanned the vast space before her, for the woman who dared wake her from her slumber. Cold air snapped at her arms, so she pulled the covers over her head, and pretended to be oblivious to such atrocious behavour, until the unjust woman, her mother, pulled the covers from her head and smiled, crying “good morning dear!” whilst enjoying every moment of the flustered frown, and the snapping back of the warm duvet a she burried her head beneath the covers again.
Oh, great, uni again, she thought, as her body quivered in the cool air that had managed to steal the warmth from beneath the covers.
Breakfast. Toasted slices of a bagette (burnt) and slices of Cathedral City cheddar cheese, which tasted like charcol. Pleasant. A flick through of TV channels. Her mind barely registering the excessive “happy” of morning shows. Why are they so happy, it’s monday morning she moans, as her eyes watch the screen. Dull, lifeless, in need of some make-up.
Twenty minutes in the bathroom and the pale lifeless girl is transformed into a pale lifeless girl trying to cover up the ugly.
It works.
Sort of.
Fifteen minutes and a bag and coat is chosen. She flings inside her books, her work, her gloves, glasses and gloss, her purse, oystercard, hairbrush and keys, and after a quick run around the house to lock doors and check windows, she is on her way.
Surprisingly, the bus arrives within the time it specifies. A few are onboard. Old people mainly. She perches herself upon a seat and finds a spot to fix her eyes upon, then freely lets her mind drain of anything, until she is practically asleep with her eyes open. Until she perks up. She is at her stop.
She grabs her bag and as the bus comes to a halt, she sweeps herself out the door, and J walks across the road. It’s chilly. Wrong coat choice, she thinks, as she watches the fashion girls in their styled checked coats and fluffy scarfs. And I had to go for the cord look, she thinks, as a small shiver runs down her spine, why didn’t I just keep this thing for selling?
Before long the golden bus pulls up to park and she is able to warm herself next to the heater. A smile spreads across her lips. She was happy. Students fill the chairs, not many, but enough, and the doors close for the bus to pull away.
Just at that moment, as her eyes caught the sky through the window, a large sea gull flew over head, and behind it, a patch of snow white poop fell down behind it. Where it landed, she didn’t know, as the bus turned and stopped at the traffic lights, obscuring her view.
First to arrive, she thought, as she sat upon the dusty floor. So with a gentle sigh she pulled out her reader, and sat, highlighting work she should have done over reading week. Not long people start to arrive, first being the one known as Ameena, the rocker girl, with an unhealthy obsession with a boy known as Jared. Whoever he is. She mocks our subject, showing off her new phone, then takes delight as a second arrives, the boy with big hair, Elkin, whose face drops to sorrow as it is noted, he now has the crappy phone.
As laughs and jokes go aside, they enter the lecture hall for the morning lecture.
Surprisingly, it went quite quickly, with talks on Defamation, Libel and Slander. Pleasant topics I’m sure. Then it came to an end and the students were free (not before a quick mindless joy of sliding across the laminate in her new furry socks!). Back into the social scene of student ideals.
Talks of parties, great ones, Ameena’s birthday at the KOKO, talks of the party at Ministry of Sound. And as our subject walked along between the students talking about them both, she slowly felt herself decline into the safety of her scarf as she was riddiculed for not going to either. Poor, poor Suz. Such a social nothing.
Lunch seemed rather brief. Chips and a sausage roll (which the sausage seemed almost like liquid…), and talks of favourite horror films. Our subject was pleased, she wasn’t a fan of horror films, and sat in silence as people boasted of their favourite, of peeing their pants with worry, of horror films they laughed at.
Then as time went on a game of pool was suggested. And mindless chitchat ensued as they loitered around the table, until alas, the majority of the group departed for a seminar, and our subject was left to entertain herself with Ameena, in another game of pool (which she won by the way). They took a break however, and parted towards the library where our subject finished off a little bit of work, before her and Ameena returned to the union for a further two games of pool.
“Are you feeling okay?” Ameena asked jokingly, as our subject, red in the face with a mixture of anger at herself and embarrassment, constantly missed perfect shots. She smiled, weakly, and let Ameena continue, and win the match. The second was worse. The white ball was potted frequently, a forceful shot was taken, only for Ameena to convienitly note that it was her colour she potted, and then, with nearly all her colour left, managed to pot the black. It would have been okay if a stranger hadn’t asked if they were creating a new game. What? To hit the ball as little as possible? Why thank you kind sir (you sonofabitch).
Finally the time passed away, and the two headed over to the Mansion, just in time to meet Elkin, and two others, Harith and Gordon, as they had just departed from their seminar. They messed around a bit (or subject almost choking Elkin) and left, just after Elkin announced his sorrow in being abandoned. By everyone.
The seminar was pleasant. Talking mostly, on the cases pointed out in the lecture. It went by fast, and soon our subject found herself back on the bus home again, and before long, back to the warmth of her house.
