Super by Faith Ellen

Read this beginning, and then tell me what you think. If you like it, I'll post up more.

Super
By Faith Ellen

Star walked down the hallway of her new school, the third one this year. It wasn’t her fault, not really. People were just stupid, or at least that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t the one with a problem… that was everyone else.

“Fuck,” she swore under her breath. Of course it was her fault that she had to be moved again. Not that anyone knew the reason why, other than the fact that she got into fights. A lot of fights. Most of them she didn’t even start… or maybe she did, but that was beside the point. The people they were with had been asking for it. Star cursed again as she realized this had also been a false mind statement. According to her psychiatrist, they had all been, basically, her fault. She was the one with the problem, not everyone else.

Still, none of her supposed anger issues had anything to do with how badly she’d hurt people. That didn’t explain how the last guy had ended up with a broken arm in two different places with scratches all over his chest and back. She hadn’t even touched him there. The only thing she’d really given him had been a bloody nose and a good choke hold.

Going back to how the fight had started, Star had been in yet another new school. It was her fourth week in, almost a whole month, and she had yet to cause a problem. However, on that fateful Thursday, some jerk-jock had decided it would be fun to grab her ass.

“Hey! Hand’s off, bastard,” Star had spat at him. The guy’s buddies had thrown their heads back in laughter, urging him to continue with his social rape.

She turned and began to walk away, but his arm had slithered around her shoulders. “Come on baby… I’ve heard about you. Very tough, right? Don’t cry? I’m sure I can make you cry. Wanna bet on it?”

Burning with rage, Star snapped. Her elbow came back and collided with his nose. Before he could really register, she’d gotten him in a choke hold, which looked a little awkward considering he was way taller than her. She might not have even made it to that maneuver if he’d registered in time.

“Keep your fucking hands off me!” she’d hissed. That’s when he’d begun screaming. His arm twisted in an unnatural shape and blood began to seep through his white and gold jersey. Star had decided to let go, and she stepped away disgusted. Finally, a teacher came and escorted him away to the nurse. Another arrived to take Star down to the principals.

“He practically raped me in the hallway!” she’d screamed at the principal when he told her of her expulsion. “What is he going to get?”

Later, Star had found out about the broken arm and cuts. None of the eye witnesses had told the truth either, about Star just hitting and choking him. It was a sick, twisted form of bad luck that seemed to follow her wherever she went. This time, Star hoped that things would be different, though she highly doubted it.

Walking into class, Star hid her face behind her long brown hair, not wanting to look at anyone. Still, she could feel their eyes on her as she handed the pink slip of paper to the teacher.

“Miss… Thornwood, yes? We’ve been expecting you.” Star heard snickers roll over the class as he read her last name. “I’m Mr. Glen. Welcome to art class.” He gestured to an empty chair at one of the four long tables arranged in a square around the room. The chair she’d be sitting in was near a group of people who clearly knew each other.

With an inward sigh, Star made her way over to the chair quietly.

“Yes, well… now that Miss Thornwood had joined us, would anyone like to guess what we’ll be doing today?” No one spoke. “Of course you have no idea, because I have yet to assign anything to any of you yet. For the past quarter, you have all just been doodling in your sketchbooks, and doing whatever the hell you want.”

Star’s brow furrowed as she watched him speak. The way he moved was odd… almost too free to be a teacher. Pressing her lips together, she paid close attention to his features, trying to make him out.

Mr. Glen had long, sandy blond hair that was tied back in a low pony-tail. He had some facial hair, and soft, thick eyebrows. His eyes were the color of slate and his skin was fairly aged, but not too old. Maybe he was in his late twenties or early thirties. He was thin, but not frail, and wore jeans and a T-shirt. It was odd, because, until now, all of Star’s teachers had looked professional.

“Today, we’ll be starting a project, based on what you have.” The students whispered lightly amongst each other, confused. “Everything you have in your sketchbooks is your project. You will choose one of these sketches as your final project of the year. Until the second semester begins, I want you all to keep up with your sketching. Then you will choose.” He paused, taking time to look everyone in the eye. “Now… you may commence with your doodles.”

That was a dismissal to draw. Star bit her lip and took out her own sketch book. It was light blue with a few doodles on the front in Sharpie. Inside, she had many sketches that she’d done every once in a while. Knowing she’d have an art class, she decided to bring it with her.

Turning to a blank page, she felt someone behind her. “What do you have here?” Mr. Glen asked as he reached for her sketch book.

“No,” Star stated, taking it back from him. He raised a brow at her defiance, but Star didn’t lose her composure. If she was good at anything, it was holding her ground. After a few extra heart beats, Mr. Glen shrugged and continued on. Allowing herself to relax, Star rolled out the tension from her back and flipped to that blank page.

Starting to sketch out a shape, a snicker drew her attention away again. She looked up to see the group of people near her smiling wickedly in her direction. “So what was that?” a girl with platinum blond hair asked. “Some sort of mind control? Luke always asks to see our work and never gives us a choice.”

I furrowed my brow. “Luke?”

The girl rolled her deep blue eyes. “Mr. Glen. Those of us who have favor with him get to call him by his first name: Luke.” Then she switched back the subject. “So… did you use mind control or something?”

Star gave her a ‘duh’ look and shook her head. She started to turn back to her work, but was, again interrupted. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. My name is Vanya Withal, and this is--”

“Look, Vanya… I know you’re trying to be nice and all, but I don’t need your charity,” Star said, without really thinking about it. “So, if you could just, please… shoo!”

Vanya pursed her lips and her group turned away. They began to whisper, and every word Star could make out was like a prick on her skin. After art class, she realized she’d been drawing a bunch of eyes. One of them was shaded and shaped to look like Mr. Glen’s, while another was like Vanya’s deep colored blue. The others, Star couldn’t match.