25 January 2012 - 9:25 PM
Being emo... Gah...
Warnings: Angst, Mental/Sexual Abuse, Blood, OCD, homophobia, homosexuality, Sex (Heterosexual, Homosexual, etc.), Self-Mutilation
Pairing: USxTaiwan, USUK/UKUS, FrUK, others to be mentioned within
Chapter 1: Time of Cathedrals
It was August 1, 2056.
Alfred laughed happily at the jokes his friends were making. A sophomore in high school, nothing could be better.
"Freddie, wasn't that hilarious?" His girlfriend, Mei-Mei, hung onto his arm and he wondered how it could be better.
As he walked towards the school, first day at Orwell Academy, he looked towards the beautiful statues that decorated the grounds. The angelic faces were carved to perfection and the fountains rained their fresh, cool water that was cleaned repeatedly through the school's filters. The trees were brightly lit up by the rising sun.
He looked under, to the shadows of the trees, and saw a boy and girl grinding against each other, teeth lashing out and marking each other. He noticed how the girl seemed to make faces as though she was absolutely drunk off of what the other was doing to her. The boy just seemed to be relieving stress.
"What, Freddie?" Alfred turned to his girlfriend. He glanced up to his friends, all in rugby, all holding their girlfriends.
"Nothing!" He smiled his Hollywood smile, teeth white and perfect.
He was absolutely flawless and loved, or so he liked to believe.
As they were about to walk in the doorway of Orwell Academy, he saw the girl and boy compose themselves before parting. Still unable to recognize their faces, he thanked God that they weren't any of his friends.
Alfred put his stuff in his locker and hastily grabbed the things he needed for first period French. His second year of French actually, but he had moved from and to the same city, Vandalia, after middle school and had come back for this second year of high school. He was in French III.
As he walked in, he saw a certain individual to whose presence he responded with slight surprise. The boy was silently reading in his seat, some papers neatly piled, few pages, on his desk. His briefcase notebook hung on the side of his desk, just like all of the other students'. His thick eyebrows were relaxed and calm, unlike how they usually were, bent downwards in a scowl.
"Hey, Arthur!" he exclaimed. He walked hastily over to the Briton, whose green eyes focused on his.
Arthur Kirkland lifted his head and his eyes went wide with shock. "Alfred?"
As he came closer, the bell rang and every student ran to a seat, hanging their things on the side of the desk and pulling out notebooks and pencils, just how they'd always been taught.
The teacher came in and asked the student council president of their year to stand up and to announce the news for the first week of school.
The bell rang again and the principal called all people in the building to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, which was done quickly. Everyone sat after the Pledge except Arthur.
Alfred blinked as Arthur began to read the words off of the papers on his desk, lifting them to read them more accurately and precisely.
"This week, there will be an orientation for the new school year on Wednesday, August 2nd during seventh period. There will be information on club formation days, as well as rules of Orwell Academy and a small background on the history of our school.
"There is a meeting for rugby, foot- eh, excuse me, soccer, lacrosse, and baseball on Friday, August 4th, concerning game dates and budgets for equipment. Student council will be there to help with fiscal matters."
"On Saturday, there is a seminar for parents on possible Saturday classes should enough parents agree for it and whether or not the student wishes to take the classes to earn more credit hours or make up credit hours that the student is not able to take for socio-economic reasons or a career learning class.
"Student council needs help on picking a theme for the Autumn Formal. It will take place on Saturday, September 16th. The dress code is formal, as in dress trousers, dress shirts, and dresses. No denim material for either gender, any tee-shirts, or clothes showing excessive skin, cleavage, midriff, or thighs will be allowed."
Arthur sat down after saying "Those are all of the announcements for this week, Madame Mallor."
"Thank you, Arthur." Mme. Mallor turned and picked up an E-pen, writing on the SmartBoard and introducing herself to the class in fancy French. She turned back and began.
"Bonjour, mes étudiants. Aujourd'hui, nous allons commencer avec les places que vous allez avoir pour le terme."
"Hello, my students. Today, we will begin with the seats that you will have for the term."
They were called in alphabetical order, Madame learning their names and writing down nicknames as they went and were called, either answering "Here" or responding with their chosen designation. She pointed them to their assigned seats, all twenty-four of them. They picked up their things as they went. Briefcase, notebook, and pencil in hand, they sat in their seats and smiled if they sat next to someone they knew or were familiar with, frowning to themselves when they didn't know the person or disliked him/her.
The Briton sat in his seat, right at the front of the room. He was all the way by the window, far away from the door.
"Alfred Jones." Alfred stood and sat right behind the student council president. Hanging his briefcase on the side, he set his notebook and pencil down.
Once everyone was situated and assigned a book according to their attendance number, Mme. Mallor began to ask them to describe the activities they did over the summer.
No one raised their hands, nervous to speak in front of new people. One kid did.
Madame smiled. "Oui, François? Lève-toi."
Francis Bonnefoy, the same age as Alfred and Arthur, fifteen, smiled and stood, speaking in a perfect French accent. "Madame, je suis allé en France pour visiter mes cousins."
Alfred sighed softly. Of course, Francis would go to France. His extended family was there. He could afford a trip twice a year.
Madame praised her student's pronunciation and then looked to the side.
"Oui, Arthur?" Alfred blink again as Arthur stood to speak.
"J'ai voyagé en Angleterre pour visiter ma famille aussi et j'ai obtenu un job pour corriger des articles dans un magazine adolescent d'un groupe locale." He was praised for pronunciation as well, though he spoke a bit softly for her liking. She never could understand why Arthur disliked French class. He was so good at it.
Madame made sure to translate in case someone didn't know any words that were being uttered by her speaking students.
Alfred sighed again, placing his head down on the desk. Arthur went to England to visit family and got a job here in town... Alfred always wanted to travel, but since...
"Alfred, as-tu quelque chose pour compatir avec nous?" Alfred lifted his head and stood. Let's see... He moved down from Springfield and took those art classes.
"Euh... j'ai me déménagé de Springfield pour retourner à Vandalia et j'ai pris une classe d'arts physiques."
He groaned inwardly. It sounded all wrong when it came out of his mouth. The pronunciation, the speed, the loudness of his voice...
"Excellent, Alfred! Bon prononciation!" Madame Mallor smiled proudly, having taught him before and knowing that he must have practiced hard to overcome his American-Midwestern accent.
Classes went on and Alfred sat down in the library with his lunch after fourth period. It was 11:47 AM.
He looked over his notes for Accelerated Algebra II. It was just review, but he could never be too sure.
He looks up and there is Arthur Kirkland.
"Hi, Arthur. Long time no see."
"May I sit here with you?" Arthur held up the same mathematics book. Alfred nodded and moved some of his stuff so that the other boy could sit down.
Arthur coughed lightly and then sat down, a small carton of milk (half-pint) and half of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich in front of him. The binder was propped up with the table and the bottom of it was against his torso. As he opened the small blue carton, Alfred saw that Arthur had a bracelet around his wrist.
It proudly proclaimed "Belle" in white against a black material.
"Is that from the movie that Mme. Mallor showed us?" Arthur raised the carton to his mouth and then set it down again, swallowing the white liquid and quenching his thirst.
"Film," he corrected the other, "and yes, it's that Hunchback of Notre-Dame song, the one about Esmeralda."
Alfred looked back down at his notes and admired how the x variables always stayed where they needed to be, where they had to be.
He noticed not the eyes that were gazing at him from the books.
Alfred went straight to youth group after school. It was in Marloph's New Movement Church outside of town.
"Remember, kids. All of these deviants – the rebels, the fags, the whores – must be taught that their Father, their God-Creator, does not want them to do what they do. The Devil has tainted the air they breath, poisoning them and attempting to poison those still pious."
The counselor/trainer turned to the teenagers. "You must find the road to piety."
That was usually how this was... A reform group for rebels, fags, whores...
Why was Alfred here?
It was all Arthur's fault.
24 February 2012 – 10:13 PM
1) 2056 – I like putting future settings in stuff. It makes me smile, as well as apprehensive.
2) Orwell - George Orwell, a British author who wrote acclaimed works such as 1984 and Animal Farm
3) Vandalia – The candidate for capital city of Illinois besides Chicago and Springfield. Springfield eventually won because of its position in the middle of the state. I chose this city because of its pretty name. I'm also familiar with the state of Illinois. It's nice there.
4) SmartBoard – I don't know if everyone has these at school yet. My French teacher still uses a blackboard because she's awesome like that. It's basically an interactive computer screen that hangs on the wall. It's huge and fun to play with. My calculus, English, history, and creative writing teachers love them so. (Well, maybe not my English teacher, but the first invention he had to live without for a while was the television, so he's still getting used to it. Oh, technology...)
5) Marloph's New Movement Church – Random Name.
6) I'm in a youth group. It's not like this, but I'm going off of my mind here.
7) Gasp What did Arthur do? Not telling. Yet.