//------------------------------// // Speaking at Chapel // Story: The Day My Life Began // by Authora97 //------------------------------// Being back at school was boring. Like, really boring. I hated being a sophomore. It was the High School equivalent of Tuesday. Tuesdays hate me. Almost anything bad to me happened on a Tuesday. I think it was 2/3’s of all that stuff. I don’t think I have mentioned how much I hate Tuesdays. As per usual, nobody knew their Christmas gifts were from me. Anonymous to a fault, that’s me. Oh. I could do that someday, become a hero named Anonymous. Wonder how long she would last. They all loved their gifts, though. I knew that much. Going back to school was a drag. I had spent an entire week just being lazy. It was amazing! Now I was told I had to do more high school stuff. Storyline dammit. Actually, you know, I need to curb my swearing. It’s becoming a problem. Tomorrow was a Chapel day. That meant I would have to sit still for an hour and listen to someone tell us some stupid sermon. It’s boring. I don’t really remember who was coming, so I guess I would have to ask. I liked knowing what level of boredom chapel would be. Wow. That was rude. My brother, Derek, was actually in charge of Chapel stuff. He would call people, asking them to come, making sure the sound system was all hooked up. Derek was the Big Man on Campus, and not just because he was nearly six feet. I got up from my usual hideout, picking up just my phone. My computer was set to lock if I didn’t use it for three minutes, so that should keep anyone out of it. It was almost lunch time, so I might as well meet Derek in the cafeteria. I picked up my lunchbox, deciding it was a better course of action. The school was pretty basic, once you got down to it. It was a two minute walk to the cafeteria, if you walked slowly from the library. Everybody else in the school was already on their way. Almost immediately, I spotted my brother making his way towards his friends. “Derek!” I yelled at him. The boy turned over towards me. He gave me a confused look. I ran up to him, so as not for me to lose his attention. “Yeah, Morgan?” Derek asked. “What’s up?” “Who’s speaking at chapel tomorrow?” I asked him. This made Derek smile. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” I gave him a ‘go on’ look. “Well, who is it?” “The guy I called to do it-Mr. Tucker-cancelled on us. His business is really taking off-” “Derek, who is speaking tomorrow?” I cut him off. I was already tired from Jumping to a new book last night, and reading the book, and the two sequels. What? I really liked the book! I had stayed there for awhile. It was long, hard, and incredibly boring. I mean, I was just a girl that (if I so wished it) could turn into a raging hurricane. What was new about that? “The emergency speaker.” He gave me a knowing smile. I raised a brow. “And...that is...” Sometimes my brother has a lapse of stupidity. He gave me a confused look back. “Morgan, you’re the emergency speaker.” Derek said. Sometimes I’m the momentarily stupid one. How did I forget that? How did I forget being an emergency speaker at Chapel? My school has a weird setup. To teach kids how to be better leaders, they put us in roles where we need to lead. Giving us control of our schedule, letting us do our work, letting older kids drive their own cars, and speaking at chapel services. Last November, a week after Halloween if memory serves, I was asked to be the got to chapel speaker if someone else cancelled. Stupidly, I said yes. Past Me gets me into so many problems I can’t even begin. So, I sat in my room at the library, wondering what to talk about. I was going through enough problems at the moment. I was figuring out how to help Apple Bloom with her family problem, without actually helping. Help by association. I had to meditate on my powers of I wanted to have the thing ready for the Wedding. I also needed to figure how how to even help with the Wedding. It’s gonna be epic, or confusing. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe both? What could I even talk about? Do I talk about Darcy, and how much it hurt that she left? Do I talk about how I was put back together by Lilac? Do I talk about my strained relationship with Mom, and the rest of my family? Life is too stupid. At Work, I have some sort of control. I know what is going to happen to who. I know who is going to betray who, and when. I know what is going down. Here? On Earth? Nothing. I don’t know anything about anyone, and I don’t like that. It is driving me insane! I can’t even drive legally! I’ve been driving since I was sixteen years old, and I’m not allowed to drive alone! I’m a hundred ninety three for goodness sake! Oh. Right. I aged a bit, being a hurricane and all. Life was good. Couldn’t touch seawater, but good. Hated bikinis anyway. Gah! Off topic. Back in track. Chapel. Speaking. Me. What do I say? What could I say? “Morgan?” I turned back, seeing Caroline walking into the library. Seeing as I could talk to her and work, I looked down at my backup laptop. “Care.” I said. She took this as a sign to go on. “Derek told us you were gonna speak at Chapel tomorrow.” I didn’t look away from my laptop. Right now, I was writing what changes I had made to that world. It wasn’t much, really. I just became a Category Three Hurricane, nearly got killed in Hurricane Gary, and then was abducted by a crazy psycho bitch. Then, she tried to have me help her mani-sorry. Spoilers. Not cool. Then, I remembered Caroline was in the room. “Huh? Oh. Right.” “Are you nervous?” Caroline asked, coming down to sit next to me. “Never nervous.” I lied. Caroline laughed. “I’ve been looking over those Rules of your’s.” That made me give her an appraising look. “Oh?” “Rule One: She lies.” Caroline said. Then, she grinned. “Isn’t that from Doctor Who?” “That gained you so many nerd points, I can’t even begin.” I commented. Care rolled her brown eyes. “It is from the Doctor, but it fits with me too.” “You always lie?” Care asked, sounding a bit concerned. Sucking my lip in, I got back to my laptop. “Sometimes lying is the only way to keep me safe.” “Safe?” Caroline asked, sitting up. “Why wouldn’t you be safe?” I can’t tell her the full truth. “If I told Becca what I really thought of her, she might scratch me with her fake nails.” Care chuckled. “Stuff like that. I’d rather keep my blood inside my body.” Care shook her head, still kinda laughing. “You know, there are times where I don’t understand anything you say. One second, you’re serious, and then you make jokes.” “Rule Ten.” I smirked. It was getting harder to write my trip with talking to Care. She was cool. Care laughed again. “Rule Ten. I like Rule Ten!” “Most people like Rule Six.” I grinned. “Rule Ten is cool too.” As we laughed, I was terrified. I had no idea what I would be talking about. It was in five minutes, and I was scared stiff. Right after worship ended, I would go up. It was all I could think about, and I kept drawing blanks. I couldn’t tell any of them anything about my life! It was all just so much. On if five minutes with no clue what to say. If this was how everyone was before a speech, they I would like to apologize. Nerves are really stupid! Just as I felt like giving up completely, and just BSing my way out of this, I felt a sort of pain shoot up my arm. I hissed. It was covered by the music the band was playing. I grabbed my pain filled arm, my mind flashing to events of when I was a kid. It was supposed to be a simple walk down to PE. Being impatient, I tried to get there first. Then one of the boys grabbed my arm, and shoved me down. It was about ten steps, but the landing was concrete. His friend grabbed me and threw me down the other twenty. Man, being a bullied kid wasn’t fun. Then, it hit me. “Now, speaking today is a good friend of mine.” Care began. “Give her some love. Morgan Spencer.” I knew what to talk about. Taking a calming breath, I took a seat on the stage. The cheering lasted about ten seconds, but it gave me time to adjust. “My name is Morgan Spencer.” I said. “You all know me as Mr. Spencer’s daughter.” A few of the kids nodded. “Today, I’m gonna talk to you about something important.” I said. “Bullying.” Silence. There were a few uncomfortable looks, ones I recognized from kids who were bullied. Mom was almost a little afraid. Dad looked very confused. I steeled myself. There memories were almost two hundred years old, yet it still felt like it all happened yesterday. “When I was six years old, I went to a new school. The kids hated me, I was just another new kid. I’m sure some of you know the feeling.” The newer students chuckled. “It stayed that way for years. I was publically humiliated more than once. By students, and once by a teacher. One boy made me cry in class. One girl told me she would be my friend, then laughed in my face after pranking me in front of the entire class. Two girls laughed at my weight while I was changing into my PE clothes. It wasn’t fun.” A few gave me wide eyed looks. I saw Care frowning, deeply. “One time, I was locked out of school by the teacher. When I got back to the class, I got them back. Stole a bag of candy from my mom’s room and said she gave it to me. My entire class called me a freak and a weirdo.” A sad laugh came out. “Two boys pushed me down flights of stairs, breaking my arm. I had to go get stitches too, since I hit my head on the concrete floor. My arm had a cast, which I guess was cool. I mean, it’s a cast. I could draw stuff on it.” Shock turned to horror. “Seven years.” A century and a half. “I had to live in that life. I prayed to God every night as I cried for it to stop. Stop the pain. Stop the torment. I just wanted it all to stop. After a while, I didn’t think my prayers were even heard. Then, Dad came to me one day. He asked me if I would like to go to the new school he was making, he and Mom and some of their friends.” I laughed, feeling elated at getting this off my chest. “I can’t even begin to describe how happy I was. It’s like being told we were going to Disney World. That school, that place, was killing my soul. Can you imagine that? Have any of you felt that? That feeling where your soul gets smaller and smaller. It didn’t even really break. It slowly faded away over seven years.” Taking a pause, I looked around the chapel. “This place, brought it back. Each day I spend here, I feel myself getting lighter and lighter. My heart got put back together here. “That’s why I love this place.” I explained to my school. “It gave me the space to spread my wings. I found things I really love. I have found people I really love.” Sadness over Darcy came back. Then joy over Lilac and the ponies. “They put me back together. None of that bad stuff happens here. It never does, and it never will. We aren’t just a school, we’re a family. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been here since the start, being family means you are willing to be there until the end.” I gulped, smiling at all of them. Even though I had just confessed my second biggest secret, I was still scared. “So, just, yeah. Go out and prove it. Don’t make fun of each other for their faults, or their talents. If they’re bad at it, they’re bad at it. If they’re good at it, they’re good at it. There’s no need to be a cruel person.” I stood up. For the rest of the hour, I poured my heart out. I told everyone here about the very events that turned me into Morgan Spencer, The First (or Last) Jumper. “Was any of that true?” Caroline asked me after chapel. I gave her a curious look. “No, I made it all up.” I said sarcastically. “I’m being serious.” Caroline said, her tone low. “I know.” I shrugged. “Hey, I think we need to go over some stuff for Chemistry class. Do you have any of the notes from this mornin-” “Morgan, you just told everyone in the school you were bullied.” Caroline said. “Before last Thanksgiving, most people didn’t even know you could talk.” “Not talk? I know said some stuff in classes, or sang at Worship. How can most people think I don’t talk?” I said, trying very hard to steer the topic away from the Chapel service. Caroline glared at me. Her brown eyes dug into mine, and it kinda freaked me out. “Morgan, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be. It wasn’t you that bullied me.” I shrugged. “You’re one of my friends.” “It still isn’t right, what they did to you.” Caroline said. “I got over it.” I said, starting to get irritated. “Got over it? That’s...wow.” Caroline gaped at me. “They did all of that to you, and you just...got over it?” “Yeah.” “Why didn’t you ever tell anybody?” Caroline asked me, sounding very concerned. “My family had their own problems, and so were the teachers. I was one of the millions students being bullied. There was no reason to tell anybody.” I growled. “So hoekom doen jy nie net ophou pla my oor hierdie kak uit toe ek tien jaar oud?!” Her eyes were wide. I blinked, then face palmed. “I said that in Afrikaans, didn’t I?” “You know Afrikaans?” Caroline asked. She looked me over. “What else don’t I know about you?” ‘You have barely scratched the surface, yet that is farther than anyone else has gotten that wasn’t my twin.’ “You know I can talk.” I joked. Care resisted the laugh, but she did. “Yeah. I know you can talk.” I saw the look in her eyes. The look I’ve seen on companions with the Doctor. What did she really know about me? Was I really someone she could trust? “How did you get over it?” “I...” I was at a blank. I never got over it. Something worse just happened to me. The pain of being bullied got buried under the pain of being a killer for fifty years. It made me realize I deserved every second. It was my punishment. It was my destiny. Those kids, they saw it in me. That potential for darkness. They saw what I would become and tried to stop as only kids know how. Who needed self esteem, anyway? Can’t miss what you never had, as they say. “It just faded.” I lied. “Wounds heal, and scars fade. It’s...it’s just one day and it was gone. Weird, huh?” But I saw that look in Care’s eyes. She knew I was lying. Been my friend a month and she already knew when I was lying. It took Darcy two years to get that, and she was basically me! “Yeah.” Caroline agreed. “Weird.” Then, she laughed. “I can’t believe your parents never told us.” “That’s because they never knew.” I admitted. My eyes went wide. Shit. They were gonna be pissed. A woman stood off campus. Her skin was nearly ghostly pale, with freckles on her cheeks and nose. Her dark green eyes surveyed the inside of the school with slight worry. She was maybe seventeen, but her eyes read of someone much older. She wore skin tight black jeans, leather boots, a dark blue top, and a tan jacket. She leaned back against a tree, running a hand through her ginger hair as she sighed. “Did I have to do that?” Her voice was fierce, and British. “It felt wrong to hurt her like that.” “You are so much like your father, it almost makes me sick.” A new voice said. The girl turned to her friend, watching as leaned on the tree with her. She wore a short silver skirt, barely reaching her mid thigh. It had a black belt, a knife holster on her left hip. Her shirt was a black halter. She wore some dark red shoes. The woman pulled out a fund of lipstick, reapplying it on her lips. “She’s been hurt worse, and you know it.” The girl looked back to the school. “Yeah, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” “I said nothing about liking it.” The woman remarked. She put the lipstick tube away. “I hate hurting Morgue too, but she said this was what inspired her to share, Melody.” Melody Pond bit her orange painted lips. “Can we go Home now?” The woman gave an understanding smile. She put her hand on Melody’s shoulder. Her purple eyes filled with mischief. “We need to point and laugh at her again.” Melody laughed. The two vanished in a purple flash, leaving no trace behind.