Post by goblingirl on Nov 8, 2006 11:23:54 GMT -5
Well, I'm nearly 10, 000 words behind, and am very unlikely to finish in time, but what the hell.
Peggie yawned, staring in half-hearted interest at the whiteboard. After a few moments her brain switched off, and she started thinking about Firefly. Shindig began to play in her brain, and she silently hummed The Ballad….
“Peggie! Please answer the question!” said Mal sharply, and Peggie blinked, and stared into the face of her English teacher. She experienced a mild sense of panic.
“I…er..”
Someone murmured in her ear, “A example of this would be Macbeth’s angst about killing his king,”
Peggie repeated this, stumbling slightly, and the teacher, deprived of a reason to ridicule her, moved away to copy it up onto the board. Peggie glanced at Erin and grinned. “Thanks.”
Erin rolled her eyes theatrically, and opened Peggie’s book to the right page. She felt both gratitude and annoyance, and settled for flicking her hand.
“Ouch. Meanie.” Erin rubbed her hand.
“Hang on.” Peggie grabbed her hand and raised an eyebrow at the dark stain marring her skin. “What’s that?”
“Just some paint I got on my hand a few days ago.”
“A few days ago? Shouldn’t it have come off by now?"
“It’s-“ but she was interrupted by the teacher who said cuttingly, “If the back could be quiet, we could finish the lesson sooner,” and looked obviously at Peggie and Erin. Erin blinked, and began to look earnestly attentive, while Peggie rewound Shindig.
~~~
“So, paint,” said Peggie, lounging against a table in the form room.
“Yeah. Well, you know that little museum in Woodcut Road?”
“No, but carry on.”
“My parents and I went there at the weekend, to see what it was like, and I brushed my hand against this weird little painting, and now it won’t come off.” Erin took a short breath. “Now drop it, okay?”
Peggie was about to retort, when the bell rang over her head. She jumped, snarled and then went pale.
“Ahhhh...”
“French?” asked Erin
“Yep,” replied Peggie with a gulp.
“And your textbook is...?”
“Somewhere better...”
Erin grinned, and took her own out of her bag, “There you go. Just as well we told have it together anymore, isn’t it?”
Peggie took it with a sheepish look, said “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” in a suitably grateful tone of voice, and ran out of the room just as the second bell went.
She reached the French classroom, the other side of the school, just in time, and swung ‘round on the door frame to stop herself from skidding past it, and groaned to see that the only seat left was by a girl she didn’t know, and had no particular wish too.
However, she took it, and the teacher walked in just as she was taking her pencil case out of her bag.
Once the traditional ruthless book-check and register had been taken, Mrs. Stacey gave them the traditional brain-numbing exercises to do, and left to shed her skin/make out with the headmaster/visit her Doomsday Machine to check it was work (Peggie and Erin had both spent much time trying to work out where Mrs Stacey went during lessons). Since she had a nasty habit of coming back whenever someone spoke too loud or got out of their seat, the class quietly got on with the work.
Peggie was just about to follow suit when she saw Stuart gesturing to her from across the room. Stuart was her and Erin’s second best friend, even though most of the time he and Erin weren’t on speaking terms. He was waving at Peggie, and when she noticed him, he pointed at her textbook and raised an eyebrow. She half smiled, and mouthed ‘Erin’s’ at him. Stuart rolled his eyes, and bent his head. After a moment, Peggie did the same, except she lay her had on her desk and began to daydream rather than kill her brain by actually doing any work.
Halfway through yet another Firefly episode, something bounced off her head. Stirring violently and causing the girl beside her to glare a lot, Peggie looked around and saw a fountain pen lying on the ground. She leaned down to pick it up, then looked askance at Stuart. He nodded, and she unscrewed it. An empty ink cartridge fell into her hand, and Peggie grinned. She replaced it with a full one, then waved it at the boy across the room. ‘Throw it over then,’ he mouthed. Peggie shook her head, and started to write with it. He swore silently, and began to get up.
Mrs Stacey came in automatically and stared him back down. Looking angry, he gave up and took a pencil from his pencil case. Peggie could practically see him plotting revenge, and tossed the pen back the moment the teacher left the room.
It was Wednesday 21st September, 2006.
The next day, unsurprisingly, was Thursday 22nd September.
Peggie sat blinking at her headmaster, who sat behind his very large (cue ‘I think he’s compensation for something’ joke) desk, and at Mrs. Hatly, Erin’s mother, who sat weeping beside her.
Oh dear, thought Peggie.
“Hello Margaret,” began Mr. Ledbetter.
“Hello John,” replied Peggie
His eyebrows snapped together like a pair of magnets. “Margaret, this is serious.”
Peggie decided not to push it, and simply raised her eyebrows at him.
“Erin Hatly has gone missing.”
Part of Peggie went very, very quiet.
“Her mother,” Mr. Ledbetter indicated the lachrymose woman next to Peggie, “reports that Erin went home last night, went to bed, but was not there in the morning. Did Erin say anything about leaving home, or similar to you at any point?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Had anything in her behaviour made you suspicious at all?”
“Nope, nothing”
Mrs. Hatly let out a huge sob, disconcerting Peggie slightly.
“Then it is probable that she has been kidnapped from her own home. One last question Margaret, then you may return to your lesson. Have you seen any that might called suspicious around lately?”
Peggie shook her head.
“Are you sure?”
Peggie opened her mouth to reply negatively, then remembered a white Persio Erin and she had seen yesterday on the way hoe from school – the driver inside had kept stopping and starting. They’d found it hilarious at the time, but he’d kept glaring at them...
“There was a...white car. A Persio. Kept stopping and starting down Deken Drive. Registration was... HY89 something.”
Mr. Ledbetter frowned, and nodded. “Thank you Margaret. If you want to go somewhere quiet before returning to class then you are welcome to.”
She thought about Maths, and the deadly dull Pythagoras Theorem, and the fact that Erin wasn’t there to giggle with, and dipped her head.
“You may go to the Medical Room then. Tell Miss. Stamp I sent you.”
Peggie walked slowly and silently to the room, dragging her bag, but shook her head when she reached the door to clear it. White Persio? What had she done? It’d been perfectly obvious what his trouble was – he had a large map on his lap and kept peering at the road signs. After laughing at him for a while, they’d told him the way to the hospital and walked home happily. And she knew Erin’s windows were double glazed and double locked, and so was the door, as well as being creaky as hell. No way could anyone have taken Erin without waking her parents, and there was a equal chance that she had run away. But apparently she was gone.
Now YOU Jackie
Peggie yawned, staring in half-hearted interest at the whiteboard. After a few moments her brain switched off, and she started thinking about Firefly. Shindig began to play in her brain, and she silently hummed The Ballad….
“Peggie! Please answer the question!” said Mal sharply, and Peggie blinked, and stared into the face of her English teacher. She experienced a mild sense of panic.
“I…er..”
Someone murmured in her ear, “A example of this would be Macbeth’s angst about killing his king,”
Peggie repeated this, stumbling slightly, and the teacher, deprived of a reason to ridicule her, moved away to copy it up onto the board. Peggie glanced at Erin and grinned. “Thanks.”
Erin rolled her eyes theatrically, and opened Peggie’s book to the right page. She felt both gratitude and annoyance, and settled for flicking her hand.
“Ouch. Meanie.” Erin rubbed her hand.
“Hang on.” Peggie grabbed her hand and raised an eyebrow at the dark stain marring her skin. “What’s that?”
“Just some paint I got on my hand a few days ago.”
“A few days ago? Shouldn’t it have come off by now?"
“It’s-“ but she was interrupted by the teacher who said cuttingly, “If the back could be quiet, we could finish the lesson sooner,” and looked obviously at Peggie and Erin. Erin blinked, and began to look earnestly attentive, while Peggie rewound Shindig.
~~~
“So, paint,” said Peggie, lounging against a table in the form room.
“Yeah. Well, you know that little museum in Woodcut Road?”
“No, but carry on.”
“My parents and I went there at the weekend, to see what it was like, and I brushed my hand against this weird little painting, and now it won’t come off.” Erin took a short breath. “Now drop it, okay?”
Peggie was about to retort, when the bell rang over her head. She jumped, snarled and then went pale.
“Ahhhh...”
“French?” asked Erin
“Yep,” replied Peggie with a gulp.
“And your textbook is...?”
“Somewhere better...”
Erin grinned, and took her own out of her bag, “There you go. Just as well we told have it together anymore, isn’t it?”
Peggie took it with a sheepish look, said “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” in a suitably grateful tone of voice, and ran out of the room just as the second bell went.
She reached the French classroom, the other side of the school, just in time, and swung ‘round on the door frame to stop herself from skidding past it, and groaned to see that the only seat left was by a girl she didn’t know, and had no particular wish too.
However, she took it, and the teacher walked in just as she was taking her pencil case out of her bag.
Once the traditional ruthless book-check and register had been taken, Mrs. Stacey gave them the traditional brain-numbing exercises to do, and left to shed her skin/make out with the headmaster/visit her Doomsday Machine to check it was work (Peggie and Erin had both spent much time trying to work out where Mrs Stacey went during lessons). Since she had a nasty habit of coming back whenever someone spoke too loud or got out of their seat, the class quietly got on with the work.
Peggie was just about to follow suit when she saw Stuart gesturing to her from across the room. Stuart was her and Erin’s second best friend, even though most of the time he and Erin weren’t on speaking terms. He was waving at Peggie, and when she noticed him, he pointed at her textbook and raised an eyebrow. She half smiled, and mouthed ‘Erin’s’ at him. Stuart rolled his eyes, and bent his head. After a moment, Peggie did the same, except she lay her had on her desk and began to daydream rather than kill her brain by actually doing any work.
Halfway through yet another Firefly episode, something bounced off her head. Stirring violently and causing the girl beside her to glare a lot, Peggie looked around and saw a fountain pen lying on the ground. She leaned down to pick it up, then looked askance at Stuart. He nodded, and she unscrewed it. An empty ink cartridge fell into her hand, and Peggie grinned. She replaced it with a full one, then waved it at the boy across the room. ‘Throw it over then,’ he mouthed. Peggie shook her head, and started to write with it. He swore silently, and began to get up.
Mrs Stacey came in automatically and stared him back down. Looking angry, he gave up and took a pencil from his pencil case. Peggie could practically see him plotting revenge, and tossed the pen back the moment the teacher left the room.
It was Wednesday 21st September, 2006.
The next day, unsurprisingly, was Thursday 22nd September.
Peggie sat blinking at her headmaster, who sat behind his very large (cue ‘I think he’s compensation for something’ joke) desk, and at Mrs. Hatly, Erin’s mother, who sat weeping beside her.
Oh dear, thought Peggie.
“Hello Margaret,” began Mr. Ledbetter.
“Hello John,” replied Peggie
His eyebrows snapped together like a pair of magnets. “Margaret, this is serious.”
Peggie decided not to push it, and simply raised her eyebrows at him.
“Erin Hatly has gone missing.”
Part of Peggie went very, very quiet.
“Her mother,” Mr. Ledbetter indicated the lachrymose woman next to Peggie, “reports that Erin went home last night, went to bed, but was not there in the morning. Did Erin say anything about leaving home, or similar to you at any point?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Had anything in her behaviour made you suspicious at all?”
“Nope, nothing”
Mrs. Hatly let out a huge sob, disconcerting Peggie slightly.
“Then it is probable that she has been kidnapped from her own home. One last question Margaret, then you may return to your lesson. Have you seen any that might called suspicious around lately?”
Peggie shook her head.
“Are you sure?”
Peggie opened her mouth to reply negatively, then remembered a white Persio Erin and she had seen yesterday on the way hoe from school – the driver inside had kept stopping and starting. They’d found it hilarious at the time, but he’d kept glaring at them...
“There was a...white car. A Persio. Kept stopping and starting down Deken Drive. Registration was... HY89 something.”
Mr. Ledbetter frowned, and nodded. “Thank you Margaret. If you want to go somewhere quiet before returning to class then you are welcome to.”
She thought about Maths, and the deadly dull Pythagoras Theorem, and the fact that Erin wasn’t there to giggle with, and dipped her head.
“You may go to the Medical Room then. Tell Miss. Stamp I sent you.”
Peggie walked slowly and silently to the room, dragging her bag, but shook her head when she reached the door to clear it. White Persio? What had she done? It’d been perfectly obvious what his trouble was – he had a large map on his lap and kept peering at the road signs. After laughing at him for a while, they’d told him the way to the hospital and walked home happily. And she knew Erin’s windows were double glazed and double locked, and so was the door, as well as being creaky as hell. No way could anyone have taken Erin without waking her parents, and there was a equal chance that she had run away. But apparently she was gone.
Now YOU Jackie
