Chapter 5 [The Siren]

I headed for the dorm rooms in the East wing of the building, trying my best to blend in with the sea of Uniques. Hah, blend in. I should become a comedian.

I used to clad myself in oversized shirts and baggy sweatpants to try (in vain) to conceal my ever so “appealing” body. I still don’t know what it is about this sack of bones and flesh that makes everyone– well not everyone, but a substantial amount of people so damn gaga. 

Not long ago Umi, one year my junior, coerced me into being their dress model. They were a very sweet yet shy person who had the ability to manipulate light to their will. Any violence driven teen would shoot lasers from their hands. Umi liked to change the colours of their clothes. And I had to say they had a brilliant mind because their knee length sundress, something I would never choose to wear, absolutely took my breath away. 

It started as an ordinary plain white dress with a few small, embroidered flowers. Slowly, it started to change, an iridescent pas de deux happening before my eyes as the once plain dress suddenly shimmered with light. Literally. 

It was as if I was wearing the sky, a bright (again, literally) blue canvas painted with orange details that looked as though the dress was encased in a fiery wind. It was a portrait of fire dancing in the sky, and I was so moved that I unconsciously agreed to wear it for the day, ‘just to see how the design would hold up’.

Now, I can be a bitch, but I’m not a dickhead. I wasn’t about to break my promise.

So stripped of my armour, I paraded around the rest of the day in the stunning artwork that clung to my body. I hated every second of it. 

I hated how exposed I felt, how much of myself that was now open to the public eye. I hated how much more conscious I was of the stares and glares I received. Most importantly, I hated how I couldn’t enjoy the beauty and artistry of this precious treasure bestowed to me for the day’s safe keeping, and how I felt that someone else should be in it to show it off to its full majesty.

Pam, of course, had an absolute field day, taking as many pictures of me as possible because “WHEN WILL I GET THE CHANCE TO SEE YOU IN A DRESS LEILA? LET ME HAVE THIS.”

So that was that. 

Jaime, as charming as ever, looked at me as if I’d grown two heads. That was by far the best reaction, but he did take a closer look at the dress and marvelled at its precision and harmony of colours with a ‘damn they’re good’ whispered from his jaw that had fallen to the floor.

By the time the last period ended and the corridors were flooded once more, I was itching to tear that wretched thing off. Of course I would never do that, it would be sacrilege to destroy something so beautiful. But the uncomfortable mental paranoia that came as its tag was an itch in my back that I constantly scratched which would soon bleed if I didn’t remove it. 

So I returned the dress in one piece and gave them my final words of awe. Their bright smile was almost worth it. 

But as my mind wandered that night, from Pythagoras theorem to the events of that slightly scarring day, I realised that it was no different from any other day. It didn’t matter what I wore or whether I had a security blanket, people would still find some reason or other to stare or glare as they always did. 

So why not wear something that makes it a little more bearable?

Now changed into a black tank top, dark jeans and a bomber jacket, I strolled through the still bustling corridors to find my tweedle dum and tweedle dee.

“Hey Mama lemme tap that.”

I could hear the booming sound of doors banging, the clacking of heels on the floor pierced my mind. I kept walking.

“Are you trying to be a slut?”

Laughing echoing all around me, the chattering becoming way too loud.

“Hey skank what time in your car, eh? Hah!”

Bags slamming down on the ground, books shutting all around.

“Whore.”

Bang.

“Bitch.”

Clack.

“Vinx.”

Laughter

“Slut.”

Chatter

“Skank.”

Slam

“Selkie.”

Shut.

“Leila?”

...breathe. 

Big breath in, hold it. Don’t let it out too soon. Calm your breathing and the rest of you will too. 

I breathed out as I turned to face Pam, nodding soundlessly.

She gave me a wary look, but said nothing as she linked her arms with mine. We walked to the carpark, the banging and clacking and voices still rattling around in my mind. It could have been worse, it could have been one of the times I would hold my head against the wall as my world would start to tilt, chest too tight to breathe, my legs burning to run the hell away from there. 

But my breathing calmed down and I walked arm in arm with my best friend to the car Jaime was leaning on, eating a bag of pretzels with his earphones in. 

She gave me a little squeeze before jumping in the driver’s seat, Jaime following suit to the back.

I stole some of Jaime’s pretzels and took shotgun, channelling my anxiety to a shaking leg. A sore limb was better than a full on panic. We drove off into the premature sunset, waiting for the golden light to turn red.