Status: Currently editing to make a better story. =]
Ghosts Never Sleep: The Diary of Alice Barrows
April 6th 1962.
APRIL, 6TH 1962. WINDY AND CLOUDY.
Dear Diary, (I ought to give you a proper name.)
I had the most splendid time in English today. We had a new teacher ever since Professor Richmond had to leave to attend his ailing wife in Suffolk. Maria said in a confident whisper to me that she had cancer but I don't really believe her. She is a strange girl, so she is. Miriam just told me to ignore her because she was crazy. I must admit that she has that crazy glint in her eyes, especially recently. Before we broke up for Easter, she used to be alright. Now she's just...impossible to work with.
Anyway, the new teacher is Professor Tennant. He is terribly young, I dare say around his late twenties, perhaps even younger. His hair is a sort of fawn colour and his eyes were two hazel orbs, just flickering something there...something perhaps not tangible but very concrete...if that makes any sense whatsoever. Anyway, he started us on Shakespeare today and he chose to start our class on 'Romeo and Juliet'. That great boorish lump of vanity Diane Hastings groaned and called it soppy, oppressive gibberish and that we ought to be studying something like Emily Bronte or Jane Eyre. He raised his eyebrows coolly and just sneered at her, calling her an obvious fool for not relishing 'The Bard himself'. I think he is a Scotsman but his accent is ever so slight, as if he had lived in this green and pleasant land all of his waking life. Charlotte Windsor, of course, knew the play off by heart and even Prof. Tennant started to yawn with all her dull ramblings. I do feel sorry for her in a way, she was such a swotty little thing and terribly dull. The only thing that was appealing about her was her long, plaited redness that spouted out her head like water. It shined like fresh blood but was soft to the touch, so delicate and yet utterly strong.
Roberta kept flicking her long blonde curls whenever the Professor passed her. I think she wants to bed him. She always seems to pick love affairs where she shouldn't. She fell for Elvis the Pelvis last October and she preened and made herself sick wanting him, day in, day out. All the girls in our dorm were utterly sick of hearing about him, so much so that Diane gave her a black eye and threatened to give her a matching one if so much as a reference to his snake hips or whatever came from her mouth. Now, this new teacher. It is a very obvious infatuation; she was flirting like her life depended on it and shining her polished little pearly teeth whenever he so much as glanced in her direction.
I sometimes wished I had Charlotte's or Roberta's hair. Mine was cut into a severe brown bob by my Mother and I hated it. She thought I looked rather trendy and such thing but I hated it. I begged her that I could grow it long and glossy like theirs. I think I'll just concentrate over the next year, growing my hair to a decent length. It will take me a while but I want it at least past my shoulders.
I kept blushing terribly during the entire lesson because some of the things Romeo said to Juliet (and, of course, vice versa) were very amorous. My favourite part was when Prof. Tennant stood beside my desk and recited:
"Oh rise, fair Sun, and kill the envious Moon who is already sick and pale."
He looked me in the eyes, so intensely that I foolishly rose out my seat. Of course that bitch Valerie Williams made a catty comment but luckily, he heard her and he boxed her ear for insolence. Ha! Good!
She had the nerve to imply that I had a thing for Prof. Tennant! How ridiculous! I was almost ready to box her damn ear myself if it were not the end of class. I managed to keep my temper simmering throughout Latin and managed to learn my pronouns properly, thank goodness. I have a test coming up oh so very soon and I am dreading it. I can't get any of this Latin into my head, it seems so silly. Next year will be worse, I start Ancient Greek. Oh dear God! With Madame Harkness. She is perhaps the oldest witch in the entire school, if not the universe! She is a jaundice yellow crab with coils of razor-coloured hair and a moustache. She also has a vile temper and it's rumoured she killed one of her students for daring to slouch in her presence. I know that this is all poppycock, but it doesn't take away the fact that I am terrified of her. Even when I pass her in the grounds my knees weaken with fear.
Dinner was rather good, roast lamb with gravy, potatoes and carrots, with a large custard trifle afterwards. I glanced up and saw Prof. Tennant glace at me from the teacher's table. I gave him a small smile of hello and tried talking to Roberta about something about Franz Ferdinand and the Great War. When I glanced up after a few mind numbing minutes of conversation, he had left the table.
I played some tennis with Charlotte, Miriam and Diane. Diane and Charlotte won the first match and Miriam and I won the second. It started to rain during the third match so we called it a tie. I went back into our dorm and read up some Shakespeare for English. For some reason, I felt like being swotty. Diane wrinkled her nose at me and told me to join them for some illicit cocoa which we usually sneaked out our dorm and pinched from the kitchen but I made that I was simply too tired. She shook her head and left me here.
I can't wait for tomorrow, it should be interesting.
I think I shall call you Anne because of that poor little Anne Frank girl we read about in History.
I shall write soon, Anne.
Yours Faithfully,
Alicex.
Dear Diary, (I ought to give you a proper name.)
I had the most splendid time in English today. We had a new teacher ever since Professor Richmond had to leave to attend his ailing wife in Suffolk. Maria said in a confident whisper to me that she had cancer but I don't really believe her. She is a strange girl, so she is. Miriam just told me to ignore her because she was crazy. I must admit that she has that crazy glint in her eyes, especially recently. Before we broke up for Easter, she used to be alright. Now she's just...impossible to work with.
Anyway, the new teacher is Professor Tennant. He is terribly young, I dare say around his late twenties, perhaps even younger. His hair is a sort of fawn colour and his eyes were two hazel orbs, just flickering something there...something perhaps not tangible but very concrete...if that makes any sense whatsoever. Anyway, he started us on Shakespeare today and he chose to start our class on 'Romeo and Juliet'. That great boorish lump of vanity Diane Hastings groaned and called it soppy, oppressive gibberish and that we ought to be studying something like Emily Bronte or Jane Eyre. He raised his eyebrows coolly and just sneered at her, calling her an obvious fool for not relishing 'The Bard himself'. I think he is a Scotsman but his accent is ever so slight, as if he had lived in this green and pleasant land all of his waking life. Charlotte Windsor, of course, knew the play off by heart and even Prof. Tennant started to yawn with all her dull ramblings. I do feel sorry for her in a way, she was such a swotty little thing and terribly dull. The only thing that was appealing about her was her long, plaited redness that spouted out her head like water. It shined like fresh blood but was soft to the touch, so delicate and yet utterly strong.
Roberta kept flicking her long blonde curls whenever the Professor passed her. I think she wants to bed him. She always seems to pick love affairs where she shouldn't. She fell for Elvis the Pelvis last October and she preened and made herself sick wanting him, day in, day out. All the girls in our dorm were utterly sick of hearing about him, so much so that Diane gave her a black eye and threatened to give her a matching one if so much as a reference to his snake hips or whatever came from her mouth. Now, this new teacher. It is a very obvious infatuation; she was flirting like her life depended on it and shining her polished little pearly teeth whenever he so much as glanced in her direction.
I sometimes wished I had Charlotte's or Roberta's hair. Mine was cut into a severe brown bob by my Mother and I hated it. She thought I looked rather trendy and such thing but I hated it. I begged her that I could grow it long and glossy like theirs. I think I'll just concentrate over the next year, growing my hair to a decent length. It will take me a while but I want it at least past my shoulders.
I kept blushing terribly during the entire lesson because some of the things Romeo said to Juliet (and, of course, vice versa) were very amorous. My favourite part was when Prof. Tennant stood beside my desk and recited:
"Oh rise, fair Sun, and kill the envious Moon who is already sick and pale."
He looked me in the eyes, so intensely that I foolishly rose out my seat. Of course that bitch Valerie Williams made a catty comment but luckily, he heard her and he boxed her ear for insolence. Ha! Good!
She had the nerve to imply that I had a thing for Prof. Tennant! How ridiculous! I was almost ready to box her damn ear myself if it were not the end of class. I managed to keep my temper simmering throughout Latin and managed to learn my pronouns properly, thank goodness. I have a test coming up oh so very soon and I am dreading it. I can't get any of this Latin into my head, it seems so silly. Next year will be worse, I start Ancient Greek. Oh dear God! With Madame Harkness. She is perhaps the oldest witch in the entire school, if not the universe! She is a jaundice yellow crab with coils of razor-coloured hair and a moustache. She also has a vile temper and it's rumoured she killed one of her students for daring to slouch in her presence. I know that this is all poppycock, but it doesn't take away the fact that I am terrified of her. Even when I pass her in the grounds my knees weaken with fear.
Dinner was rather good, roast lamb with gravy, potatoes and carrots, with a large custard trifle afterwards. I glanced up and saw Prof. Tennant glace at me from the teacher's table. I gave him a small smile of hello and tried talking to Roberta about something about Franz Ferdinand and the Great War. When I glanced up after a few mind numbing minutes of conversation, he had left the table.
I played some tennis with Charlotte, Miriam and Diane. Diane and Charlotte won the first match and Miriam and I won the second. It started to rain during the third match so we called it a tie. I went back into our dorm and read up some Shakespeare for English. For some reason, I felt like being swotty. Diane wrinkled her nose at me and told me to join them for some illicit cocoa which we usually sneaked out our dorm and pinched from the kitchen but I made that I was simply too tired. She shook her head and left me here.
I can't wait for tomorrow, it should be interesting.
I think I shall call you Anne because of that poor little Anne Frank girl we read about in History.
I shall write soon, Anne.
Yours Faithfully,
Alicex.