The Blue Moon

I scrolled down on my list and played Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. Sounded depressing, yes, but it calmed me. It is one of the things I do regularly. Just so my life doesn't feel like crazy. I wore my favorite jacket, a must-do, since it's my first day of my senior year and first time coming to a new school. A high school in the middle of Lincoln, New Hampshire. Lin-wood High School.1

I had driven my old, banged-up VW rabbit. The direction in paper was in my hand. My families had offered to drive me, but I resisted kindly. They were hesitating to let me go in a state that I never drive. Well, they had plenty of reasons. For one, I got lost and happened to end up on the very northern edge of New Hampshire the day I moved in; two, the same thing happened when I went searching for a library; and three, I just got a parking ticket yesterday. My cousins were betting money on me, with hopeful eyes that I do what they expect. Oh no, not this time, I will not let that happen. And just my luck, I am exactly where I wanted to be. Right in the parking lot of Lin-wood High School.2

I stifled a sigh, taking a good look at my new school. Lin-wood High School held up to entirely four stories. There was another building behind the main building. The building was half the size of the main building. I noticed a long rectangular field of grass, surrounded by those amazingly tall trees.3

I looked at my stereo. 7:39 AM. I subtracted. I had 46 min. left 'till 8:25 AM when school started its first day. A couple of people had come earlier than me. I figured I would just get in and explore the school, but I am just still like granite in my seat. A lump was in my throat. I hoped my life will be OK. Right now, I had no idea what to expect of a small town's high school. I swallowed and put my hands together, messaging the palm of one hand. Another thing I do to calm myself down. Then I got out of my car, feeling the cold air prick my skin.4

I had finally come to the term that I no longer live in Los Angles and no longer can call University High in Irvine as my high school and no longer can hear the Pacific Ocean and that this school, Lin-wood High School, is now my school.5

Lin-wood is oddly small than University. It's dark, gloomy, and in New-England style with these bits of metal, curly fringes on its windows. University High is brighter and more wider and crowded with students everywhere. Lin-wood has at least five hundred enrolled students. In the morning, you could chatter of conversations somewhere. Here was almost ghostly. Maybe for now. I must have been too accustomed to having two thousands students around school.6

I walked through the entrances' gateways. It's obvious that I am the main hallway. I looked to my left where the registration room was. A woman in black dress suit waved to me with a smile. I waved back nicely and kept on. In this hall, there were displays of varied arts. I walked to them to have a closer look. I started the right. They were all simple and ordinary, but very different from University High. I moved from one art to the next, and on and on. Then this one I couldn't look away. It immediately drew me, stealing my breath away. My face is not more than a foot away. This ink painting was utterly beautiful. Honestly, I thought it could make a famous Chinese ink painter feel ashamed beside whoever drew this. It was a long 2-foot wide. Everything on it were almost haunting. There were so many details. Almost impeccable. Everything on the painting were of nature, but in its darkest hour. Its background were dark blue, speckled with white tiny spots, representing the starry night. The engrossingly, hauntingly trees were almost believable. There were lots of colorful specks underneath the trees. No, I'd mistaken.
They were eyes. Eyes of animals. Blue. Red. Green. Purple. White. Brown. They were spread across the myriad of trees. There's no figure behind each of them. I guessed they were hiding. I found this painting really powerful. It's like the painting is saying that the nature has a secret to hide. Rather than animals hiding themselves in nature, nature is hiding them.7

I could stare at this painting for hours. But noises arose in the hall, coming from students entering the school at last minute and breaking me of my locked-in stare at the painting. The hall was beginning to fill with people. Shouts were made among people when they greeted their friends. I looked at its name tag. Stefan Turner. I want to remember this name so I can find more of his arts.8

I began going up the fourth floor. Each floor, I realized, has their own subject. The fourth held English. The third, social studies; the second, mathematics; the first, science; and this I just learned, the school has its cafeteria in the basement. To my surprise, there was only one corridor and it was already noisily crowded. I struggled to get through without touching them, keeping my hands close to my chest. I finally found my classroom and entered in right away. Just as I got in, people broke their conversation and looked at me with a smile as if expecting to see someone familiar, but we were just looking at each other. Then slowly they turned back to themselves. Although they whispered, I could hear them.9

"Who's that girl?" A girl said.10

"I don't know. I've never seen her before." A guy breathed.11

"She's probably new. I've never seen her before." Another girl murmured. Then they were back to talking whatever they were talking about.12

I picked a seat in the far left. And pretty soon, the class was full and loud with clatter of people. People threw their backpacks under their seats. People shouted around. It was as if everyone knew everyone.13

"Hey! Long time, no see! How you doing?" A guy had to shout through all the noise ricocheting against these walls.14

"A bit dragged, but just fine!" Someone shouted back.15

The bell rang. And instantly, one by one, the loudness had gone as if it was never there and everyone took to their seat. And the teacher in the class stood up.16

"Hello." She had a yellow-paper packet in her hand. "Welcome back to Lin-wood High School. For this year, I'm teaching you English. Now, don't expect this to be easy..." She began to explain her class for a good ten minute. She introduced herself as Mrs. Pearson. And she went on to roll call.17

I heard my name being called out. "Abbi, Emmaline?"18

I was called on first like always. I had grown accustomed to saying the word because coming from a very big school, no one really remember my name. "Here." All eyes were swung in my direction. I suddenly grew uneasy. A burst of rumor went around people.19

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(To be continued)