Entry to the third round of the Battle of the Pens competition.
Word Count: 343
For the first time in over two years Zohar was about to step foot inside the school again. The School of the Scientific Minds of Westerfeld, the sign glared, as if daring her to bring up the memories of the place. Not that her mind would listen; it belonged to a demon that knew no rules. A boy’s face swirled in the cavern of her memory, taunting her with the way he used to avoid her and ignore her existence. The summer spent at the illustrious school was an educational experience, if at the very least, good at helping her to understand other kids her age.
Wide streaks of light draped over the building, encasing the elaborate school with its long stairway and bustling students, in a soft yellow glow. A large window curved upwards from the door frame, branching out to connect with the upper floors, white wood encasing the middle. The brick walls, stained red like the blood that runs hot in her body, enveloped the teenager, it’s hulking size looming over the youth, as a dog would when brought a wet bone.
Briefly, she wondered who ever decided the red was a welcoming color. It would go well when taking tests, studying, or being in a war, but not for this. Sighing, the girl shouldered the black bag on her back and walked up the stairs. If this was her only day to get accustomed to the grounds, she may as well have a brave face.
“Z, you ready?” The boisterous voice of a tall, dark-skinned boy broke her thoughts. Shaggy blond hair swept over his brown eyes, shiny and bright. A small black and green feather tattoo curled into his wrist; one of the gifts he had been allowed to get on his 16th birthday a few months back. And despite the way the usually happy guy clashed with her pessimistic outlook, the two were quickly becoming close friends. So realizing they would be attending the same school after meeting at a summer camp, promptly made sure to go together.
“Yeah, let’s go.”