Hey guys, my name is Caterina or Ctaim2, which ever you prefer and this is my fanfic. Tempting Fate is told in the point of view of Clara Williams, age seventeen, height: 5'6, brown hair, green eyes. Thank you. Enjoy.
I wasn’t quite sure if I could possibly endure another day in high school. Somehow, the abysmal days kept lengthening in time. Each more monotonous and bizarrely dreadful than the last. Every minute I spent there, it seemed as if I was dragged further into my despair.
I was currently seated in my fourth gray seat of the day; in English class. I had been sitting here for the last hour impatiently waiting for my day in school to end. For what seemed like the hundredth time during the period, I turned to face the eight hour timer directly north of me.
I had ten minutes left prior to the point at which I could leave and rather than pulling myself back into my unpleasant timing mind, I quickly sought a less appalling option to focus my thoughts on for the time being.
My eyes scanned the room gazing over the twenty other uniform chairs and the students that occupied them. Their faces were all masked with undisputable worry about the pop quiz we had just received on the classic drama, A mid summer nights dream. I had always enjoyed the book, it was a alluring read and also one of the many fictional fantasies I loved, one that would allow me to escape the tedious schedule of my daily life.
With an accompanied sigh, I stood up and slowly walked to the front of the room. I was heading toward my teacher’s muddled desk. There were stacks of paper scattered across the desktop and the recent failing grades from third block. Seeing as there was no way to place my paper safely in the clutter, I handed it to Mr. Virino behind the desk and waited as he checked my paper, tracing the patterns of random floor tiles with my eyes. I
wasn’t surprised when he placed the paper back into my hand. On the top was my grade in messy red ink. I had gotten a one hundred, the same as usual. The material was fairly easy, I had always done well with testing. However, the surprise on my other classmates faces as I turned, showed me that they did not have the same gift.
I rushed swiftly back to my desk, nearly colliding with another student on my way there. I never particularly enjoyed being in the spotlight and the front of the room held for me the same feelings described as stage fright. I didn’t feel gratified by the other students stares, instead I felt something I couldn’t quite put into words.
Maybe it was self-consciousness but, every time I received a look from someone, I felt as if they recognized some distinctive flaw that separated me from all other people. Something that everybody noticed except for myself. But, then again, maybe I did have something abnormally wrong about myself that didn’t allow me to fit in anywhere except the confounds of the unrealistic worlds of fiction.
My theory was all the more supported by the facts of my life. I had never had any good friends and never felt a remarkable need to stand out from others. One moment can change everything. A flashback invaded my mind, unwelcome, the horrific visions that had changed my outlook on life; my parents death two years ago. I tried desperately to remove the images but failed. The flashbacks never ended, I was reminded constantly.
My parents died in a car wreck when a driver veered out of his appropriate lane and swiped the side of my parents car. It sent them spiraling off the bridge they were traveling on bridge and into the water. They never resurfaced and I still remembered the excruciatingly painful phone call I had gotten later that night, telling me what had happened.
Ever since then, I had lived with my only relative, my Aunt Rachel, and though we weren’t the best suited for each other’s company, I still had a great deal of respect for her. She had graciously taken me into her care, after my parents death.
I was forever grateful that she did not simply allow me to be placed into foster care, so that she wouldn’t be in charge of another’s life. She actually did care for me and once we got past our differences she wasn’t quite so difficult to live with.
As I was still contemplating, the sound of a high pitched ringing snapped me out of my reverie. It was the last bell of the day, school was finally over and I was free to leave. Startled, I hurried to pack, into my book bag, the disorganized pile of papers on my desk.
It was my homework for the day, and thankfully completed due to my early finish on our English quiz. I rushed then to zip my bag and leave the room. I was the last one out.
Therefore, the halls were already squeezed tight with the two-thousand students that also came here for school. I was having a hard time finding my way through the crowd, all I could see were the multi-colored hues of tee-shirts in front of me. Eventually though, I spotted the exit and rushed outside.