Sharada

Black slightly poofy cap with very light vertical white stripes and a tiny buckle on the rim, her faithful blood red t-shirt with ‘SINFUL DRUMMER’, a black rose, and ‘Keeping The Beat’ written in gothic style on black velvet, gray plaid skirt with a pinch of red, DIY belt made of pop-can lids, black leggings and black slip-on etnies melting into each other. She checked her black nails, tied a black shoelace around her neck before sticking a black and white pin through it, another black shoelace around her left wrist, and a black and red striped wristband with a red and white guitar on it. Her ever-present rose bracelet she can’t remember where she got from also on her left wrist and her nearly too large but still worn every single day dragon ring present on her left middle finger topped off her look with a bang.

She hastily shoved her naturally straight and bouncy hair out of her face to apply her daily thick black eyeliner and mascara. Halfway through, she yanked her hat off her head and tucked most of her fringe behind her ear before continuing with her makeup. After applying sun-like rays to her eyeliner (think Alex the Droog, under both eyes), she passes her comb through her shoulder-length amber hair (coincidence), careful not to destroy her already curved tips the night had granted her. Her hair done, she carefully puts her too-big hat back on her head and backs up a pace or two, observing the girl in front of her, amazed by her short term metamorphosis. Myriam was, only six months ago, a fat wanna-be hip-hip tomboy with baggy clothes, short hair, and dipshit smart-ass attitude. She smirked, satisfied of herself and how she had taken her life in hand. She shrugged on her black hoodie with the interior of the hood a red plaid, and splotched of ‘gold paint’ on her hood, sleeves, and front right side.

Hearing the low rumbling of the arriving school bus, she quickly darted out of the bathroom, snatched a soggy piece of toast from the counter, slung her backpack over her shoulder and ran out the door, after the bus. After a quick chase, the bus finally stopped to let her climb aboard. She gained her seat right behind the back wheel on the bus’s right side, popped her earphones in her ears, propped her knees against the seat in front of her and closed her eyes, waiting for her hour and a half trip to school to end.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She got hit by something coming at a hundred miles an hour as soon as she set foot in the school. Losing her balance under the impact, she ended up on her ass, with whatever hit her on top of her. Even through her music, she could hear the screams of her friend.

“HI MYRIAM!!!”

“Urgh, Kat? Get off me.” Myriam sighed with a smile playing on her lips.

Katherine pouted. “But I’m comfy!” Myriam just had to laugh at her childishness.

“Well I ain’t, now let me get up please!” She suddenly felt the weight getting lifted off her and a hand tugging on her own.

“Hello there Mimichou, thought you’d need a hand to pry her off.”

“Stop calling me like that Jessa, or I’ll start calling you JESSICA.”

“Shut up.” She was about to continue when Katherine decided she wanted a piggy-back ride and jumped on Jessa’s back. Katherine, being the lightweight she was, had no trouble convincing her. Walking through the first floor cafeteria towards the Sec 5 (Junior) locker hallway, Jessa continues.

“So, what are your plans this weekend Myr? You coming over?” Kat looks at Myriam with pleading eyes from the top of her improvised perch.

“I’ll come, but I’ll need to leave soon after. Your Imperfect Disaster finally got a gig at Beaugarte and-”

“WHAT?!? You got a gig at BEAUGARTE?!? Do you know how hard it is just to GO there?!?” Catherine pops out of nowhere.

“Imagine the effort it took us to book a gig.” Myriam stated as she swung her locker open, only to find her lyrics and partitions littering the floor in front of her locker. “Why do they even give me partitions? I can’t even read the damn things…” She mutters bending down to pick up her papers.

“As you were saying before Cat rudely interrupted us…?” Jessa asked, eyes shooting daggers at Catherine, who shrugged.

“Hey Cath?" She says, rudely ignoring Jessa to piss her off.

“Huh?” Kat looks at her weirdly.

“Other Catherine.” Myriam simply says.

"Yea?" Catherine turns around from poking Jessa.

"You think I can crash at Marie's apartment this weekend? Mom surely won't let me go to Beaugarte" She lightly laughs

“Sure, no problem. Her roommate's gone...somewhere...I think. I know how your mom is not too keen on YID.”

The four girls all smile at the stupid abbreviation Myriam’s band had. Soon, the warning bell rang, signaling to the girls to break it up and get to class. English and Math passed like a breeze to Myriam, and it was soon lunch.

She met up with Catherine in the empty library like they always did, sat in the armchair next to the plastic tree where she always sat, and took out her sketchbook, continuing her drawing she had started the previous day. Twenty minutes later, Jessa joined them, shortly followed by Katherine and Caroline. They hung out until the warning bell rang for third period, then split up for the rest of the day. History and Geography was living hell, but after an eternity or two, 3:10 arrived and the dismissal bell rang.

Myriam quickly ran from her class, shoved her things in her locker and took her Whatever Book before running to the Music room, which was practically reserved by YID for after-school practices. When she arrived, she saw Kyle and James talking over some pieces of paper (probably new songs), Jeffery randomly playing riffs on his guitar and Philippe goofing off, as always. All four glanced up when the door slammed shut after Myriam’s entrance.

“Hey Myr, can we start now?” Kyle asked, picking up his beloved guitar.

“Yeah, I wanna rock out!” Phil exclaims sitting down behind the drum set and clanging the cymbals, soon erupting into an off-set beat of different songs.

“Shut up Shorty.” Three voices ring out. Jeff was still occupied with his riffs. “Got it!” He finally shouts and scribbles a couple of notes on a music sheet before passing it around.

“Awesome Jeff. But I don’t think we have time to work on new songs before tomorrow. Let’s stick to practices, kay?” James asks looking around, searching for approval. Everyone nods and get started with ‘Movie Preview’, the band’s first and rather cherished song. After an hour of practice, they decided to call it a day and headed out, Kyle, Jeff and James with their instruments, Phil with his drumsticks and Myriam with her lyrics. She took the city bus back home, transferring buses a couple of times. It was five thirty when she finally got home.

Walking towards her house, she sees a moving van parked in front of her home, and panic suddenly gripped her guts. She moved at least ten times in her life; she wasn't ready to do it again. She fumbled with her key and opened the door.

"Hey mom, why is there a moving van parked in front of the house?"

"Well sweetie, I got a new job!" Her mother's reply comes from the kitchen.

"Yea, I figured that much out, but where are we moving?" Myriam wasn't too worried, they had always moved in the same areas, never completely changing lives.

"Belleville!" Her mom brightens up when she sees her daughter, who doesn't look too pissed. She knew enough of her to know she had a flaring temper.

"O...kay? And that is...?" Myriam inquires, looking at her mother skeptically.

"In New Jersey." Her mother says matter-of-factly, turning back to packing the dishes

"Wait wait wait, WHAT? You mean we're moving to the U.S TONIGHT?!? How come you never told me?!? What about my friends? What about my band? What about my life?!?"

"Oh don't fret Myriam. I'm sure you'll find plenty of friends over there. And you're not leaving anything behind when it comes to that band. Screaming like you do only damages your vocal chords further."

"But-"

"That's it Myriam. Go pack now. We're leaving first thing tomorrow."

She furiously stormed out of the room, not before throwing a plate on the wall, smashing the plate and marking her the house with her mark by a huge gash in the wall.