Lunch period ended with no further events, Jocelyn having convinced herself that her over active imagination was responsible for the sound that she thought she heard. Her time spent outside had been used to settle down her annoyance and find her calm in order to be able to return back to class without losing her cool on everyone around. She was one suspension away from getting kicked out of school, and that was the last thing she needed on her plate at that point in time. She, her aunt, and her brother had been living in Rhode Island for two years; the longest they had managed to live in any one area. Her aunt Alicia was happy for a change, having finally been able to unpack and keep things out rather than packing back up within a few months of moving, and she had been encouraging Jocelyn to keep up her efforts in succeeding in school and attempting to make friends. She was actually managing a C average in all of her classes, but as far as making friends though, that was completely out of the question. She’d never fit in anywhere, and she certainly didn’t fit in where she was, not when she was stuck going to school with a bunch of preppy kids who cared more about how much someone’s shoes cost rather than how they treated people.

Gathering up her belongings, Jocelyn rose up from the bench, the sound of her name lingering in her mind, but she would not allow herself to focus on it too much. She was stressed, although she couldn’t explain why, at least not at first. It hit her though, once she reentered the school exactly why she was feeling tense, the thought going off inside her mind like a bomb as she walked to her next class. ‘I really, really hope that jerk isn’t in this class.’ Tora had gotten under her skin, although it had not started out that way. She could have handled his continued teasing if he had kept it limited to simple insults against her; he didn’t know her well enough to have any true insight into her personality. No one really knew her well enough to accurately assess how she was, outside her family that was. She knew that people had heard about her past, her brother often made it a point to warn the people he encountered about the attack from her mother when she was younger, believing they would understand her brash behavior if they knew her background. 

Art was her next class, one that Jocelyn did surprisingly well at. She was one of the most talented students in her class, which was probably due to the fact that she had been drawing since the moment she could first hold a pencil. She would lose herself the minute she began to draw, sometimes even losing hours of time without even being aware of it. Anyone that attempted to talk to her during one of her drawing sessions would often times be tuned out completely, and there had been a few times when her aunt, brother, or even some of her teachers would attempt to snap her out of it and she would continue to ignore them, her hand flying across the page until the image she was working on was completed. Some of her drawings made no sense to her, and those few were placed in a drawer in her desk at home to be hidden away from view. Others were equally as puzzling, picturing events that made no sense at the time she drew them, but would later become a reality. She kept those secret as well, only sharing them with her brother and aunt on a few occasions. Not everything that she drew came to life, but more often than not, it did.

Jocelyn made it to her art class before the bell rang, and without waiting around, she entered the room and began her work, barely taking notice of the other students as they filed into the room after the sound of the second bell. The image that she was working on was one she had consciously selected, which did not happen all the time. Usually, something would get stuck inside her head, a single frame of a scene that would remain inside her head until it was captured completely on paper. Once it was done, she would forget all about it, along with the context of the image. It was strange, and her aunt had taken her to a psychologist to see if there was something wrong with her. After MRI’s and dozens of tests they had ruled out everything and brushed it off as nothing to be concerned about. Jocelyn had grown used to being rushed to the doctors for some odd behavior, or strange occurrence with her health that would never be explained; she just assumed it was part of her mental trauma that was playing out in strange ways. 

The drawing she was working on was another one of the odd, unexplainable urges, but not one that put her in a trance when she began to work on it. The woman in the picture was a familiar figure that occurred in most of her drawings, one that she had nicknamed her ‘Fairy godmother’ but was not a fairy at all; but she wasn’t human either. Her aunt had explained the reoccurrence of the woman as Jocelyn’s need for a mother figure in her life, but she didn’t buy that at all. She thought the woman was simply her overactive imagination at play, which happened far too often for her to even count. She was creative, and a part of her creativity also caused her to imagine things that were far beyond reality, at least that was what she believed. 

The forty five minutes of class was spent finishing up her drawing without any interruptions from the teacher or her other classmates, no one even looking in her direction knowing it was useless to try and get her attention. When the teacher clapped her hands and told everyone it was time to pack up to head to the next class, Jocelyn reluctantly closed her sketchbook and placed it back into her bag. The bell rang and it was off to P.E class, or as Jocelyn referred to it, forty five minutes of hellish torture. The only bright side was that Tora could not possibly be in her class, which meant she would have a small reprieve from the constant back and forth that was both draining and entertaining at the same time. There was still one last class after P.E, a stupid social studies class that was full of goof offs and losers, but she could spend the whole time daydreaming and the teacher wouldn’t even notice; as long as the new pest in her life was not there. With a heavy sigh and dragging footsteps, Jocelyn made her way to the girl’s locker room to change into her gym uniform, hoping that she’d fall and sprain her ankle at some point between changing and heading to the fields outside.