Post by RILEY ANDREA JAMES on Dec 23, 2011 16:05:58 GMT -5
Riley Andrea James • Sophomore • Female • Telepathy
»The fat lard of a principal looked over his papers with a rather disinterested attitude. He noticed you sitting down, but doesn't really have the courtesy to look up from his desk. To you, he says out loud. "Let's begin shall we? Tell me the basic details about yourself." With a cough, he shuffled through is papers and glanced at you once through his small eye glasses.
Folding her arms, Riley slouched a little in her chair. This guy didn’t really act much like a principal; either that or he didn’t get much job satisfaction. Probably both. Without hesitation, Riley answered in the same bored tone “Riley Andrea James. Born 23rd September 1995, age sixteen. I’m a junior….. That’s it really. Oh, disorders? Pfft umm…. ADHD and I cut myself.” Riley didn’t even flinch saying those last words. She used to, but she found that if she said them in a bored voice, people tended to react in a way that Riley thought was hilarious. Usually, a look of surprise would flash across their face, and they would try to appear as though everything was normal, failing miserably. Riley didn’t like the sound of this school already. She had been looking forward to it, before she met this guy. A, idea formed in Riley’s mind, and she stood up, lifted up her top to just below her breasts, and let the guy stare as the deep gashes and scars from her self-harming. Satisfied with herself, she sat back down, folding her arms across her scars and sliding downwards into a slouch on the seat once more.
»With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, threw his glasses on the desk and ran his chubby fingers through thinning, greasy hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly as he said, "You know about the truth of this place. Now, I didn't invite you personally, my staff did. So please, give me a run-down of your power." With his eyes still shut, the principal gestured with one arm toward you to begin.
Riley straightened herself up at the sound of the word ‘power’. She loved to talk about her power, she just had no-one to talk about it to, apart from her best friend Noah Blackthorn. Looking straight at the principal, she smiled her first real smile in four months and, taking a deep breath, closed her eyes. The room was installed with security cameras, so she couldn’t get hurt and, if anyone was planning to hurt her, she’d know anyway. Riley focused on a thought to send to the principal. ” I am telepathic. I can read and send thoughts into people’s minds. Not easy for me to do yet, but it’s not that hard either. Sometimes I hear people without meaning to, im not entirely in control of it yet, but I will be soon. Oh, and I cant always read minds when I want to either.” Riley then returned to her normal speaking voice, and recited the story of her finding out about her powers. “Well, it was about a year or so, I guess. I was depressed because of people teasing me being ‘different’ just because I wore darker clothes and listen to heavy metal and punk rock and stuff like that. Also there was my confusion about my sexuality, and my mum was dying or cancer thrown into the mix too.
I lay on my bed slicing my skin with various objects: scissors, a knife, and I think a maths compass too. You know the pointy ones that people draw circles with? Them. Anyway, everything suddenly goes completely black. I immediately think that it’s me fainting again from blood loss, but this time its not. My parents walk in, find me dripping with blood, unconscious on my bed. They rush me to hospital, blah blah blah, and the doctors want to x-ray me. I’m still unconscious, so they do it, they x-ray me. For some idiotic reason though, they put me in the hands of a training doctor, who forgot to clean my cuts. There’s a sciency bit that I don’t understand, and I woke up being able to hear people’s thoughts, and sometimes my thoughts would go into peoples heads randomly. I didn’t tell anyone because they would think I was insane. I have sort of grown with it and honed it a little bit, and now my powers are sort-of under my control. My thoughts don’t go into peoples heads randomly, I’ve sort of learnt how to do it. The only problem I do have is reading minds. I'm not very good at that yet because I have no-one to practise with, but im hoping I will get better, you know?”
»Finally, his eyes opened groggily. However, he wasn't much warmer. He yawned loudly and largely as he looked over your paper. With eyes watery and face red he continued, "I see why we would have invited you. Let's see..ah yes. Mind telling a bit about your family and where you're from?"
Riley sighed at this question, and sank back down into her chair. She didn’t like her family. Her stupid, idiot family who had no cares for anyone but themselves individually. With half-closed eyes, Riley spoke again “My family? Huh… My mum, Andrea James: died 10 months ago. My dad, David James, is still alive. He’s married to some whore who I refuse to have any connection with. No brothers, no sisters. That’s it. Me as a kid? Oh here we go. I got made fun of for being different. For being the ‘emo’ kid.” Riley started, accenting the tragic idiocy of the bullies by drawing inverted commas in the air. “Just ‘cause I wore black, and listened to different music to them, I was ‘strange’ and ‘weird’ and I got bullied for it. That’s why I started cutting. I was 10. Ten years old, and already a cutter, a suicidal maniacal cutter.” Shaking her head, Riley tried to bite her lip to stop herself from talking before she got herself riled up about life, but failed. “It’s not the only reason though. I mean, that’s why I started. But then some kid saw the cuts and then no-one would talk to me at all because of that. Somehow. word got around that I cut myself and eventually my mum heard about it. She went schizo on me, and cut me off from everyone. She thought that it had come from a ‘bad influence’. Hell was she wrong. Shutting me off just made it all worse. I felt more and more alone and I cut myself more. I then got diagnosed with ADHD, and everything just kept spiralling downwards.”
»While you were talking, the principal had made himself comfortable by leaning back in his chair and intertwining his fingers. "Hmpf. You should fit right in. May I ask, what are your plans in the future? Outside of AMG?
“Me, fit in? Unlikely.” Riley laughed and folded her arms yet again. “I don’t do fitting in. I cant make friends, and im accidentally antisocial constantly. Good luck getting me to fit in. My plans? Umm, I don’t really have any. I’ll just take whatever opportunities come to me. If all else fails, ill make a fortune as a mind-reader.” And with a dry laugh, Riley crossed her ankles and raised her eyebrows.She had once had a dream. She was a singer, a famous singer and musician. Fans following her, chanting her name: 'Riley, Riley, Riley Riley' over and over. The screams become louder as soon as she walked onto the brightly-lit stage, and even louder when the fans recognised her hit song and started singing along. That was what she had always dreamed of. Her only dream. Then her step mother had come along. She laughed at Riley's dream, telling her constantly that she would never amount to anything, no-one would ever want her. She would end up dying alone, no-one to love her, no kids, no family: alone in life forever. It started to sink into Riley's mind, into her every thought. At school during lessons, she would think about her life and how she would never ever be loved, never have a boyfriend, never get married, never have kids. And all because she was ugly, useless, and she could never ever in a million years be famous. Never. Not Riley.
»He looks much more interested now, rather awake and in a slightly better mood. "Tell me, do you have any hobbies?" he inquired, creating soft jazz hands at the word 'hobbies' as if to mock it. "You're aware that it may be difficult to continue these on the island, as you may not leave outside of break?" It was more of a statement than a question.
“lovin’ the jazz hands sir” Riley said, biting the insides of her cheeks hard to stop herself from laughing. “The only thing I do really Is listen to music and play my guitar. What’s so hard about that?”
»The principal crossed his fat arms and leaned on his desk. In a much more serious tone, he asked, "Be honest, child. How do you feel about all of this...supernatural stuff?" his shoulders shrugged as he said it.
“The supernatural stuff? I think its fucki- umm its awesome. I always knew I was different, and I like being different, so yeah, im happy about it, to be honest." Riley knew that she had never fit in, and never would. She was different, but she liked it. She was happy with who she was now, and she loved the fact that she was supernatural. It made her feel like she was, for once, better than normal people. For once, she was the one in control. She was the one with the power over other people. Granted, it wasn't a power that she could use to hurt people with, but she was still supernatural, and that made all the difference in Riley's mind.
»He leaned back on the chair that squeaked under his weight. "I see. Personally, I have mixed feelings. Anyway, we're finished now." The Principal grunted loudly as he got up to shake your hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, do you have any questions for AMG?" he added, as he let go of your hand and buzzed the receptionist to lead you out.
“Cool. Thanks. Nope, no questions from me, im all done. Bye” Riley said hurriedly, as rushed out of that room as quickly as she could. She didn’t think she would’ve been able to stand another minute in there.
LOZZIE • 15 • FEMALE
