The Beginning of the EndMature

September 3rd - I remember it well. Three weeks after John died, we were back at school and I was still used to going home and seeing John there, his death hadn't really hit me yet. It was the beginning of year 11, our second year of GCSEs, so it was strange to get a new person in our form now.

We had already heard it was a boy, so naturally we were wondering whether he would be hot or not, and two of my friends, Emma and Holly had even started a competition that if he was hot, the first person to 'bag' him won a fiver off the other. I didn't really care, my mind was on the loss of my brother.

'So class, welcome Mark!' My form tutor exclaimed with a friendly smile. A smile that definitely didn't match the surly, angry expression on the new kids face.

A gorgeous surly, angry expression at that. Mark was easily hotter than anyone in our form. Our year, even. You could see jealousy in the rest of the guys eyes as all the girls suddenly straightened up and tried to look their best.

He didn't seem to notice them. He didn't seem to care at all that the girls were all looking at him like he was a piece of meat, or the guys green with envy at his looks. He just walked past us all, and sat at the back. 

Our teacher continued on other things, while my mind wandered. Where had he come from? Why now, in the middle of his GCSEs? 

'Right, you can go to your lessons now!' I heard my tutor say. She'd obviously stopped droning on then. As we stood up to go, I felt something brush agaisnt my coat. Checking my pocket I saw a note, which simply read;

'Meet me outside the maths block at break. You caught my eye.' As I looked up, it was obvious who had put it there. Looking at the door, Mark looked at me, winked, and left.

'Lucy! Lucy Hall!' I looked up at a tall, grey haired nurse who was watching over me with a concerned expression.

'You look worried,' She explained, 'stress is not good for you right now.' I fiddled with my quilt and felt guilty.

'Sorry,' I replied, 'I was only thinking about something..' She waved her hand, as if pushing the comment away.

'Not to worry! Don't be sorry, just take your mind off it. Here, watch some telly.' She clicked a few buttons and some childish cartoons came on, music blared out of the tiny speakers. Leaving me the remote, she walked away satisfied.

I stared hard at the happy, dancing characters, wishing I could forget my worries and join them inside the TV.

The End

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