The Beginning Of The End by Natalie Holmes (reading books for 5 year olds txt) 📖

updated in a long, long time, gave the school an eerie feeling. This wasn't helped by the fluorescent lights that flickered starkly, reflecting off the uneven floor below.

Harlow rushed to get to English, the first lesson of the day. She made her way to the back of the room and slumped into her seat. She hated school, it was just another place she felt alienated and alone. She quickly scanned the room, it was long and narrow with single person desks lined up into rows of four all the way down to the front. The window next to Harlow was old and did nothing to keep the cold out, making her shiver. She dug around in her book bag to find everything she needed for the lesson, and then idly scribbled on her note pad.

The teacher, Mrs Peak, entered the room and called attention to the class. Her red hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail; she had sharp cheek bones and a straight nose giving her a very harsh appearance, which matched her personality perfectly. Her pants suit added to the severity of her look and though she was strict, Harlow admired her no-nonsense attitude.

Mrs Peak stared everyone into silence with a death glare "I have something unexpected I need to attend to, I'm afraid it cannot wait. I should be back in 15minutes, anything we don't have time to get on to today, due to the delay will have to be done as homework." A collective moan sounded from the class, but was quickly silenced with another look from Mrs Peak. "Keep the noise to a minimum while I am gone or the homework will be doubled" and with that she turned and left.

With Mrs Peak's absence, the others sat on each other's desks chatting excitedly while waiting for the teacher to return. They all duly ignored her existence. Looking at them gossiping and laughing sent a twinge of resentment through Harlow. She refused to be as pathetic as to wish she had friends, and besides, wishing only made her hope for the impossible. Once an outcast, always an outcast.

Harlow leant forward in her seat and let her hair become a curtain between her and everyone else in the small classroom, she made up lyrics in her head and tried to drown out the chatter of the 17 other students. Looking out of the dirty old window, she could see it was still pouring down. It looked as though a storm was coming, she could feel it thick in the air, could sense it in the room, everyone was almost buzzing with static electricity. It made Harlow feel strange, it was like everyone around her was building up, waiting for a crescendo, while all she could do was sit and watch, ever the outsider. She shivered and let her head drop onto her hand, hoping no one noticed her there.

****

The sky was clear and the stars dotting it shone with an intense bright white luminosity, the moon cast a silvery iridescent light over the field Harlow stood in, making it look almost ethereal. The long wild grass swayed in the slight breeze and brushed her fingertips as she slowly walked - with no real direction - just enjoying this beautiful and extremely serene place.

Harlow had no recollection of how she got here, or where she was. But she felt safe, this place felt familiar and that put her mind at ease. Though something niggled in the back of her mind, like something wasn't right. It buzzed like an annoying fly that she quickly swatted away, she didn't want to listen, she was happy just walking, happy to have a moment of peace.

After a while of wondering around the seemingly endless meadow, Harlow heard a hushed rustling sound behind her. She quickly spun around, and was met with a sight that made her eyes widen. Before her stood a boy, or a man, she couldn't really tell. Although he looked young on first appearance, the more she took him in the more she could see something in his eyes, a tiredness that you would expect to see on someone a lot older than he looked.

Harlow took a steadying breath, for some reason her heart was pounding as if it was trying to burst through her chest. She blinked, once, twice, trying to see if the boy was real or a mirage. Surly he couldn't be real, but he was still stood there, staring at her with a strange intensity that Harlow didn't understand. She tried to take him in, to commit his features to memory.

His eyes were a blazing green that had to be contacts; they couldn't possibly be that bright. They were framed by thick black eyelashes that cast shadows onto high cheek bones. His forehead was obscured by a shock of inky black hair that surrounded his head in a messy halo. He had lips that any girl would envy, full and berry red, held in a firm line. He looked...annoyed? Confused? Worried? She couldn't really tell, so Harlow dismissed it to let her eyes roam over the rest of this mystery boy.

He was wearing a tight fitted t-shirt that clung to an athletic body and through the long grass she could just see he was wearing dark jeans. For reasons unknown to Harlow, her eyes were drawn to the air around him, like she expected something to be there. But she hadn't a clue as to what. She frowned at her own strange behaviour but still couldn't take her eyes of the space directly behind the boy.

"You shouldn't be here" He spoke quietly and his deep voice was so silky, it vibrated through her, and involuntarily pulled her eyes back to his face. Though when she looked at him she realised he wasn't talking to her, but to himself. Did he mean her? "W-what?" Her voice quivered when she spoke, though she didn't know why. She felt nervous; maybe he was right, she shouldn't be here. Just as quickly as she had turned to face him, Harlow turned her back on the beautiful boy and started to walk back the way she came. She felt a sudden urge to be very far away.

"Wait!" The pain in his voice made Harlow freeze on the spot, she looked back at him and the look in his eyes made her stomach do a flip. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly bone dry. He looked torn, like he didn't want to be there, but couldn't bring himself to leave. "How-" he started to speak but my shaking voice cut him off "Who are you?" I whispered. She didn't expect the look of utter surprise on his face, his eyes widened, then narrowed. He looked as though that was the last thing he thought she would say.

He didn't answer, but he walked towards Harlow, causing her heart to pump faster still. Quicker than she expected he stood before her, close enough that she could feel his cool breath across her face, it smelt sweet and made her head swim so much she couldn't think coherently. She looked up at him, she was chest height to him, and she had the compulsion to lay her head there, to wrap her arms around him.

"I don't understand" Harlow looked into those emerald green eyes, searching for an answer to an unknown question. He gave her a wry smile that made her think he felt the same and made Harlow's palms sweat. When he smiled his face lit up making his eyes glow. "This shouldn't be happening" he said so fervently, for some inexplicable reason it made Harlow want to cry. Why didn't he want her here? It hurt to think he wanted her to go away. But Why? He was just a stranger.

A loud ringing made Harlow jump, her eyes shot open, sweat coated her entire body. Her stomach roiled and threatened to empty itself at any given moment. It was just a dream. She struggled to get her heartbeat under control, to slow her erratic breathing, to shake the strange feeling she had. She looked around the classroom, which was rapidly emptying. It had felt so real. Harlow scrambled to pack her books up and make her way out of the classroom, but her fingers wouldn't work properly. Something about that dream had affected her deeply, but she had no idea why. Flustered, and more than a little rattled, she rushed out of the room.

Chapter 2 - Crash and Burn

By the time Harlow got to the music room a couple of hours later, she was still feeling a little shaken up. She was having a hard time pin pointing what it was about the dream that made her feel that way. Nothing major had happened, no traumatic events, it wasn't even scary. Just a little weird. In her two classes before, science and I.T, she had drifted through in her own little reverie, feeling bewildered and frantically trying to put the dream to the back of her head. But she just couldn't do it. Something about it niggled at her; every time she thought about it he palms began sweating, her heart raced and her stomach turned over. For the fiftieth time she tried to gain some semblance of calm.

It was a free period and Harlow had come extra early so she had time to prepare and focus. She needed to concentrate, in a few minutes she would be doing her guitar exam. She had been working towards this for so long and she was desperate to get it right. It felt like a lot was riding on this, one day it would be her ticket out of here, she could go to a music school, somewhere far away from this life. She could start again; make a whole new identity for herself. Just the thought of it made Harlow smile, the chance to be someone new.

The music room wasn't very big but had a high ceiling, making it appear almost cavernous. Huge arched windows ran down one side, offering a view of the rain that was still pelting down and the wind whipping through the trees, stripping the golden and red leaves off them. There were a few rickety, scratched up desks stacked up and pushed against the back wall, but the majority of the scuffed hardwood floor was occupied by rows and rows of chairs, arranged in a semi circle to face the chalk board that was more gray than black due to many years of use.

Various different kinds of musical instruments were dotted around the area and in the corner by the window stood an aged piano that looked like it could collapse at any given moment. The chipped yellowing paint on the walls was mostly covered by the various pictures of different musicians that the music teacher deemed "appropriate", mostly classical composers and the odd pop singer, nothing to Harlow's taste, she preferred songs that evoked real emotion and bands that she could relate too, but there was no chance of seeing posters of "My Chemical Romance" or "Blink 182" on these walls.

Compared to the howling wind and pouring rain outside, the room was unsettlingly still and deadly silent. It felt like being in the eye of a storm. The windows rattled with the blustery weather, threatening to cave in. Harlow dragged a stool from the corner of the room and the loud sharp noise that echoed off the walls made her wince. She placed it in front of the bulky scratched up oak desk that the music teacher usually occupied, sat down facing the door and took out her guitar.