She had recited the history of the seven kingdoms and talked about how they were once related not just by marriage, but also by blood and how they had drawn their bloodline right from their earlier ancestors, two brothers. Talked about the power behind every precious stone that gave each kingdom its power, its strength, its abilities, and also, its name. She had spoken out of knowledge, out of self-education to a small audience - her lesson mates, when asked by their teacher.
Back then she was confident and held her face high with a subtle smile over it when she gave her speech. She knew it. She knew what to say and how to say it. She was prepared. Back then she had readied herself in her utterances and actions, but that was not the case now.
Her eyes ran a quick calculation of everyone in the room, twenty-five in number. Yes, twenty-three were seated, and two, standing. Well, one because it was customary and the other because it was mandatory.
On the mandatory term, she stood, not because there were no seats. Oh, there was. One happened to be empty in the third row, the second seat to the left. It was her seat and no prophetess needed to tell her that!.
She needed to introduce herself to the entire class. She was new and a stranger, no one with the right state of mind will let her take a seat close, especially when her name had not been heard.
< Diva Conrad. Lived with my dad, and lost my mom three years ago. She was shot right in front of me. Saw her lifeless body. Battled with the image in my head while I got drowned in the pains that ensued. Dad and grandma tried their possible best to pull me out of it, but I could not be helped. I was personally the one behind my sufferings. When I got addicted to the pain, it became hard to pull out of it. The hardest job is not carrying a load of bricks on your head or digging depths into the ground till you touch the brim of water. No, that's not the hardest job. The hardest job is trying to bring out a better version of yourself. Grandma and dad tried to do that with me and when it seemed that everything was going down the drain, their last option was to have me relocate from my home country to this country where it was the closest to my grandmother, now my mother figure >. She wanted to say, but since she wanted to voice out her struggle and make peace with it, it was not the right place or time.
On a second thought and after a short silence, just four words left her lips. ' I am Diva Conrad '. She didn't know when she did it but it just happened. Her left eyebrow went higher while the right one stayed fixed where it was, totally unaffected.
Her eyes captured some of the students who had their lips, ajar and their eyes widened.
' Thank you, Diva, you can have your seat. The seat next to Hailey, '. The teacher gave the direction to her seat with her finger. She probably did not see what Diva did out of reflex.
As her legs moved to the seat that have been pointed out for her, she was able to pick up some of the looks of her new classmates. It wasn't intentional but even with her head held high, she had somehow trained her eyes to grasp the things that happened around her without turning for a look.
She could see that all her classmates had their eyes on her, except for one who just played with his pen. They tried to take their eyes off her but couldn't. It was like they were under a spell. She sensed the struggle on their end, it was tiring. Not that it was the first time she had people's gazes on her, she was just so tired of hearing their thoughts while they did so.
Most of them marveled at her beauty, others at what she did up there, that brow-lifting stuff. Was that even a thing?!. The other one that kept his eyes glued to his pen while he played with it, had nothing on his mind. She tried reading his thoughts but was met with emptiness.
Reaching for the edge of her seat she pulled it out. It was only when she sat down and the teacher struck the cane against the whiteboard, did everyone adjusted their gazes from her.
Turning, she saw that the boy who was playing with his pen was now listening to the teacher with his eyes on the board. And as if feeling the weight of her gaze, he turned and their eyes met.
He had a frown on his face as he stared at her with so much hate. She had a shock on her face when she felt the intensity of his gaze as if it was fire heated up with brimstones and paraffin oil. The fire started from him and reached her. It was hatred, a bad emotion. Like he had met her before and she had caused him so much hurt.
For a moment her thoughts derailed and even into oblivion when she saw his eyes fluttered from black to red and black again. Her eyes widened in astonishment and her lips gave way.