"One more day..."
This countdown has been going on in September's mind since she heard The News. The News deserves a capital letter, The News has been keeping her going, The News has been keeping her sane, or at least to the naked eye.
The thing is, September isn't really fine. Not at all.
The only reason she carries on is because of The News, because London is calling her, September's escape is calling her.
She is scared of the lies, and not the truth. The truth is only one thing. The lies however, are both- are chosen to be believed, are more believable than the truth. They are the truth.
If you said that to any man or woman who has ever been subject to fateful rumours or tall tales, you would be understood. The liar's though, well... they just wouldn't have a clue. Those who frame the innocent, save the guilty would look at you blankly. Only those affected will ever truly know.
September doesn't like school. She is one of the victims. Too proud to admit it but still, a victim.
Those who have suffered the most from these lies are sometimes those on the sidelines. The people who are the friends and the family.
September knows this all too well.
Her father- Danny Baxter -is a household name, for all the wrong reasons. These reasons include:
~Murdering his boss, two colleagues and five people who were in the shop at the time
~Going on the run, keeping a five year-old September, her mother and her then newborn sister June hostage
~Claiming all these things didn't happen when he went to court
Now, you must be thinking:
'Wow... but wait a second here buster- where on Earth do rumours come into this?'
But I have of late not shared the full story with you.
Because September's mum got sent down.
According to her father, her mother meticulously planned this crime, and forced him carry it through.
September has never (ever) believed this.
At five years-old, September was innocent enough to be able to be a fly on the wall in her parents arguing. She knew her dad was in serious debt (how's $200,000 for y'all) and her mother was refusing to pay.
Her dad said he would find another way to pay.
And September was going to go to the police about this but her father, when he was keeping young September hostage, said something about what would happen to her if she squealed to the police. This threat went along the lines of:
'Remember what I did to the people in the bank? Well... yeah... bear that in mind...'
What a lovely father, huh...
But, back to London, for her mother's case review, September would be staying in London. She could of just gone to LA or Hawaii but London sounded cool.
All she had to get through was this Friday, and then she'd be gone...
Stumbling into the shower, she washed and dried her body a top speed. Wrapping the towel around her too slim figure, she set about applying product after to her tawny hair. September then proceeded to slide a pale pink hair slide into her curled to perfection hair. The shorts she put on were white and ripped. A floaty, dusty pink t-shirt covered with the words 'Just don't' completed her look, as well as her white flip-flops.
"Albie," she called with a smirk, "be a darling and please give me a lift!"
"Sure honey," replied her Uncle Albert, "Ferrari or Rolls Royce?"
"Ferrari please!"
"I had a feeling you'd say that..." he muttered to no-one but himself.
Walking out of the car, September cooed her thanks and giggled over to her friends. I accentuate the plural. By friends, I mean all of the hair flicking party girl clique, plus boyfriends. And I really, really mean, they ALL had boyfriends!
"Hey gals and guys, guys and gals!"
"September!" sweet talked her boyfriend, "Love your hair!"
"Really," she mocked modesty, "I only took like 10 minutes on it!"
I think 10 hours would be a more probable scenario. She got up at 4:23 AM to get to school by nine.
You do the maths...
"Tem-tem!" called Molly and Chloe, the identical twins on the outside and in.
"Um," dared Bonnie, "I would say good to see you but my mother said never to lie sooo..."
"Love the nails!" shouted Aretha, better known as Goldie.
"I'm gonna miss ya whilst your in London!" contributed Mel.
"Is it tomorrow your going?" asked a confused 'Jenni-Benni'.
"Guys," screamed Ruby, "GUYS! Let her speak!"
"Thanks Ruby," smiled September, "Right, in order of being said; Hi Mol 'n' Clo; Love you too Bonnie; Aretha, thanks! Your lipstick is fab and ohmygod! The eyeshadow! Tell me where you got it later- I need that in my life; I'll miss you too Mel; Yep Jenni-Benni, going tomorrow morning. Oooh and that reminds me- spring break starts tomorrow!"
A large cheer erupted.
But beneath this popular clique's facade, there is a hole, a rift, tearing them apart from the inside.
Bonnie had detested both Aretha's and September's girly-ness from the off, likewise Aretha and Bonnie loathed Bonnie's lack of grace and daintiness.
Mel and Jen's is public knowledge (and gossip) to all member's of the school, even though nobody knew why they hate each others guts.
September has no real reason to not like school. Her name was changed, from Winnie Baxter to September Hill, to let her keep her anonymity and privacy. It is just paranoia. Plain and Simple.
September's greetings were rudely cut short by a piercing beep. The bell had gone to signal the beginning of the school day.291Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhwB6fc0hWh
At 3:30 PM...291Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ08u2aGqzSK
"Why on earth did Mel and Jen have to get us a whole class detention?" asked Aretha.
"I know," consoled September, "they had to bring the whole class into their stupid little feud, didn't they!"
"And all other detentions end at 4 PM!" moaned Chloe.
"But our one ends at 4:30 PM!" huffed Molly shyly, "it's so unfair."
As these innocent young girls their classmates trooped across the busy playground into detention Room 66, nobody knew that they would never leave this building this for spring break, in fact, nobody in Class 7T would ever leave the school again. They had 1 week at most, because by next Friday, no-one will be left...291Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2LKUMN5AWm
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