Slowly I drew in a long and replenishing breath, the cold air swirled round my lungs and tickled my nose playfully. The mist was heavy, like a thick oily shroud as I waded through nonetheless. No wind. Of course there was no wind here, this was nowhere. My long black hair hung limply down my back to my waist and my pale skin had slight goosebumps on it due to the cold, and yet the cold wasn't uncomfortable, it was just there. Above me was darkness. Though then again in many ways it was always dark here, always night. Like a black silken abyss it hung above me, dotted with a thousand or more treasures for a weary dreamer such as myself to gaze upon and wonder, to dream about what might lie beyond my own perspective .
"Robyn?!" my eyes flew open, no mist, cold, dark, and certainly no more wonderful stars or stillness. Instead I was faced by a rather plain - though unsurprising - beige wall, it's paint was thick due to the painter not bothering to remove the other hundreds of layers before putting his own on. Below was a linoleum floor, to my right a seemingly endless empty corridor, and to my left was a slightly worried looking teacher who was tapping on my shoulder lightly. With a petulant sigh I turned, scraped back my long black hair out of my face and smiled at my new Art teacher.
"Sorry, I was a million miles away."
"Yes you looked it. So you ready to go into now?"
"No," I mumbled helplessly as she reached for the door handle, she probably wasn't listening anyway. Though she did. Her hand that was on the door knob was still, I looked up to see she was looking over her shoulder with a kind smile on her face. Due to my father moving around so much I had got into the habit of not really taking in specific details about my teachers, after all they'd probably be different within a few months - and that was being generous. Yet of course I was suddenly in an alien situation, a teacher had asked me a question and actually wanted an answer. Something about that smile made me trust her, made me want to see her as a person - not just another teacher. Taking the time to take in some details, I saw that she had mousy brown hair up in a messy pony tail, clearly she was laid back then. Quite a young face, though she had cynical frown lines faintly imprinted on her freckle speckled forehead. On her slim build she wore casual clothes i.e. a red v neck t-shirt and black jeans.
Well overall she looked nice and so far seemed kind, now all that was left was the voice. I hadn't paid much attention to it beforehand. Too high meant condescending, too low meant a heavy smoker and too soft meant just plain annoying, so far I knew no other option. Slowly she turned to me and sighed quietly.
"Oh my girl, I do feel sorry for you. I suppose you must be sick to death of this eh?" her voice was none of the above. Shock didn't even cover what I felt then. Her voice was soft but a true soft, like her voice was always like that, and it had warmth to it, probably the slight Irish tang to it, but she had spoken with real earnest and I couldn't help but gape.
I had started to like the school.
All right, I'll not get ahead of myself: I liked one teacher.
"Sorry, sick of what miss?"
"Of being the new girl? Feeling like a spaceman on a new planet?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Ha! You've no miss,"
"No I don't suppose I don't." she murmured with another sympathetic twitch of her lips. "Though I do want you to know that if you ever need to talk, or just need somewhere to go for a few hours rather than straight home or out to lunch, feel free to come to me or my room. I've seen your work that your last school sent over, it really is fantastic you know. So just keep that in mind, this door is always open to you."
"Thank you miss."
"Sorry I suppose that's quite the cliché?"
"It is but..." I drifted off and gave an amused grin, "You sound like you really mean it."
"That's probably because I do Robyn, I know what it's like to be the new girl, not quite to your extent, I mean my dad wasn't quite as...-"
"Much of a jackass? So easily bored? Don't worry you don't need to put it nicely to me, the man grabs every new job he can, jumping from state to state as soon as he possibly can."
"Well he is the head of my department Robyn , I can't exactly say anything against him to his own daughter can I?"
"Believe me, I'll only join in."
"Ha! Right, fair enough then. Well I've only been here in this art department myself for about a month. Don't worry, you'll fit in fine, though I do have to introduce you to the sorry I know it's horrible to stand in front of a new and be put on display like you're a dog in a show but... I need to do it so you're not left as the girl with no name. All right?"
"Yes, at least you gave warning, not a lot of you do."
"What, you mean teachers?"
"Well then I guess I'm just a wierdo,"
"Believe me miss, to me that's a very good thing."
"Don't worry Robyn, I've always thought that way. Can I ask how old you are?"
"You don't seem it, would've put you at the top age range of this year, not the bottom."
"Ha! Well when I was thirteen, just before my mum left she said I had the mental age of a thirty five year old."
"Well that's probably why, sorry about your mum. And I know you might feel like that wee spaceman all alone on the moon but... just remember you've got the spaceship behind you eh?"
I felt myself grimace before I could stop myself, though a giggle broke through as well so I hoped she wouldn't take offence. She smiled thankfully.
"Right. Em, miss did you really just refer to yourself as a space shuttle?"
"Told you I was weird. And plus I'm an Art teacher, I do paintings not metaphors," she winked and took in a deep breath. "Right so you ready now?"
"Yes I am miss."
"Good girl! And... by the way it's miss Beckinsale, just so you don't have to keep saying miss. Makes me feel like a right spinster."
I gave a nod and she opened the door to the new world.