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This idea came to me in a dream. When I woke up, I thought it would make an awesome story, so I minority edited the idea and starting plotting it out.
Plot:
Madison River Middle School was an ancient place. It had been around for decades. Since it was still being used, the board of education in the area decided to fix it up a little bit, repainting they walls, replacing the lockers and adding new technology. However, there are four lockers that could not be replaced. There was something unusual about them, and these things seemed to vary by season. One was always frozen shut in the winter. Another burned to touch in the summer. A third smelled of flowers during the spring, and the last seemed to have wind coming out of it in the autumn. The kids assigned to these lockers where just as strange. Hermione, Flora, Louis and Zephyr went to the same grade every year, and where always assigned to those four lockers. And so it had been for decades, ever since the school was built. It was as if they never aged.
Adding to the confusion, there is a room near the Lockers. Most know it as the "FR"...Forbidden Room. Even teachers are terrified. Few have gone in, and none have come out. It was like a modern horror story. Only the Locker kids know what's in there.
One day when Zephyr gets trapped, and the other three are willing to do anything to get him out...but will the secrets of the Lockers and FR be revealed?
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Prologue
The time had come.
"A new residence for you has been built," A voice rasped.
"Thank you," Replied a girl in the corner. She had long, jet-black hair and icy
blue eyes; her skin was very pale. A young man with dirty blond hair and burning golden eyes bowed in respect.
"Thank you," He echoed.
"It is with much need. We are glad you found us a home." Another girl spoke. She had glistening auburn hair and knowing green eyes.
As the three payed their respects, the first voice spoke. "Zephyr. Where are your manners? I just brought great news. You should be thrilled that you have a home now."
The young boy named Zephyr glanced up absent-mindedly. He had innocent, grayish eyes and scruffy, brown hair. A few freckles clouded his face.
"Sorry, Mentor, sir. I am grateful. Thank you." The rasping spirit Mentor nodded slowly.
"Alright, then. We must get you four settled in before the first classes begin. This place is a school. Your homes will be four specific Lockers, each with a hidden world inside. You will enroll in the school each year, always in the same grade. And these lockers will be yours, always. I'm sure you will all enjoy the wonders inside them. But be warned...each Locker is more powerful during its Season. It will be your job to be sure no one notices." The four nodded.
"Excellent. We'll move you in oldest to youngest. Hermione." The black-haired girl stepped forward. "You have been the spirit of Winter for many years. Just because you are now living in a school will not changed that, as I'm sure you'll understand. Be careful, as many students will be at the school during your Season. And look after Zephyr. He will need it." Hermione bowed, and with that she was gone.
"Flora," Mentor invited. The other girl stepped up. "You are the spirit of Spring. Keep the school cheerful during your season, and don't let Louis take over too early." Flora, too, bowed, and vanished.
"Louis." The boy stepped forward impatiently, excited to be in his new place. "You are a feisty spirit, in charge of Summer. Most of the students will be gone during your Season. Nonetheless, I need you to keep and eye and the school while everyone else is gone. And do not take charge until Flora gives the OK." Louis nodded vigorously and bowed before vanishing.
Now Mentor and Zephyr where alone. Mentor turned slowly.
"Zephyr," He began. "You are the youngest. This will be hardest on you. You are the spirit of Autumn, when the children begin their term. Be careful, and heed Hermione's guidance. Remember that if you need help, you can always contact me." Zephyr nodded slowly, and then bowed. And he, too, vanished.
Chapter 1
Welcome to Madison River Middle School!
Proudly celebrating our 30th year of teaching!
This is what the sign to the entrance of the school read on this particular morning. Hermione stood staring at the sign her long, black hair flowing gently in the soft breeze, something strange sparkling in her ice-blue gaze as it swept again and again over the words. A few other girls stared at her strangely, as many of the students did.
“Isn’t she that girl who’s never passed her grade?” One of them muttered.
“I think so.” Another responded.
“I heard that she’s crazy, her and her group,” A third gossiped. “And she needs a haircut.”
Hermione paid no attention to these remarks. For the most part, they where true. She had been in the same grade for years. Her dark hair was unusually long. But she wasn’t crazy. If these girls knew even half her true story, they would know that. Of course, it was probably better that they didn’t know. After all, if she--or any of the others, for that matter—were to let the information slip…well, Mentor would probably have to get involved, and that would not be good for Mentor or for the students.
Hermione simply remained where she was as the others talked, eyes locked on the words. Could it already have been 30 years? But an angry yell interrupted her. She groaned as she realized whose voice it had been. Then, just like that, she was racing into the building, to the source of the complaint.
“Zephyr!” She said as she slowed, stopping next to a small boy with unkempt, dusty-brown hair.
“What happened this time?” She tried to keep her voice low. Zephyr glanced at her angrily.
“You know what’s wrong!” He hissed. “Those idiots where acting retarded again. They said I should turn off the fan in my locker. I don’t even have a fan in my locker! I try telling them, but they don’t listen, it’s just…”
“Zephyr, calm down! And keep quiet,” Hermione interrupted. She lowered her voice further than it had been. “It’s your Season, I know…it….is hard to control, but just keep letting them believe that you have a fan in your locker. You and I both know it’s for the best. If they keep bothering you…well, they’re just a bunch of hotheads.”
Zephyr opened his mouth to object, but then closed it again. He sighed, his gray eyes shining with defeat. Hermione nodded at him, and he left for his next class. Hermione watched him go sadly. He was the youngest of their group, so he had the most trouble with school bullies. It was her job, as the oldest, to keep an eye on him.
She gathered her things before heading to her first block, which this year was Physical Science. Keeping a close eye on her schedule, she found her classroom and plopped down in a desk. She was one of the last in the room due to the trouble with Zephyr, but the bell hadn’t rung yet, so she was ok.
The teacher walked up to the board. Hermione knew he was a new teacher at Madison River; though he did seem somewhat familiar, oddly, she had never seen him before. He was tall and had short, red hair. He had small spectacles that he wore very close to his face, and behind them, intense green eyes. And yet…there seemed to be something unusual about him. Hermione couldn’t place it, but it was there.
“Good morning, class!” He greeted. “My name is Mr. Soachan; you can call me Mr. S.” He glanced briefly around the room. Hermione looked up at him with mild surprise. Mr. S? There had been a teacher ten years ago who also used that name. Of course, she supposed, there were probably several “Mr. S”s in the world. This was most likely a coincidence.
Sure enough, Mr. Soachan continued normally. “As some of you know, this is my first year and Madison River, however, this is not my first year teaching. I expect you all to behave.” He stressed the word behave.
“I am going to begin with roll call. When I call your name, please raise your hand. Hannah Asdurn?” And it continued from there. Hermione knew she would be last on the list; she always was, year after year. At last, Mr. S got to her.
“Hermione?” She raised her hand. Mr. S checked her off as ‘present’, but then studied the roll call sheet, confusion painted on his face.
“Do you have a last name, miss?” He asked. Hermione shook her head.
“No, Mr. S, sir. Just Hermione.” She ignored the burning stares from the students around her, keeping her voice cool and steady. Some of them probably knew who she was if they where here last year, or maybe they had older siblings who’d mentioned her and her ‘group’.
“Ok.” Mr. S sounded a bit wary, but he didn’t ask any more questions. “Now then,” He said, raising his voice a bit. “I believe all of you studied Life Science last year?”
The class nodded, Hermione going along with it. This was a lie and she knew it, she had been taking Physical Science for year after year, but she didn’t want to draw more attention to herself.
“Well, this is a different branch of Science,” Mr. S continued. “In this class you will learn about two main things: chemistry and physics…” Hermione mentally tuned out as Mr. S droned on, she had heard this countless times. At last the bell rang. Mr. S glanced up at the clock, confused by how fast the block had passed.
“Oh my, time flies.” He muttered to himself, and then louder, “Dismissed!” Not that the word made any difference; the class was up and out as soon as the bell had sounded.
~ ~ ~
Hermione walked out into the pod for the nine-minute break. The pods where relatively large sections of the school shaped roughly like octagons, separated by the hallways with lockers. Each pod held the doors to eight classrooms. In the center of each pod was a diamond-shaped wooden bench where teachers and students could sit.
Hermione set her things down and sat on the bench, sighing. She closed her cold eyes, resting them.
“How are you?” The voice made Hermione jolt out of her brief rest, tensing her muscles in surprise. She relaxed as she recognized the face.
“Greetings, Flora. How did your first block go this year?” Flora sighed, a small, misplaced tuft of her auburn hair blowing out of her face.
“Not so hot,” She replied. “I have Algebra first this year…and I have Mrs. Garth.” Hermione placed a comforting hand on Flora’s shoulder. She’d had Mrs. Garth once. The old lady was one of the most intimidating teachers that Madison River had ever had. Turning the subject away from Mrs. Garth, Flora spoke again.
“What and who do you have first?”
“Physical Science, Mr. Soachan.”
“Mr. Soachan? Isn’t he that new teacher?” Hermione nodded. Flora looked interested.
“My schedule says I’ll have him third block next semester…what is he like?”
“Too soon to tell,” Hermione replied. “I didn’t pay much attention today, anyway. It was just the typical introduction-to-physical-science, like every other year in every other class.” Flora nodded gravely.
“Well, good luck with that. Maybe Mr. Soachan will…holy flowers, look at the time! We need to get going!” She stood. “See you later.” She said urgently, walking swiftly to her next class.
It’s probably way off on the other side of the building, Hermione thought. She gathered her own items and entered her next class, which, thank snowflakes, was closeby.
Chapter 2
Flora trotted off towards her next class. It was quite a relief to get away from Mrs. Garth, but she still didn’t want to be late for P.E. Coach Sullivan was very strict about being on time.
She entered the gym, where many more kids where gathered around the partly-opened bleachers, as it was every year. She sat down in the first row, waiting for roll call spots to be assigned. Around her, the other students where horsing around…no surprise. A group of cheerleaders where gathered around gossiping; a few guys where hanging out in the top row of the bleachers, roughhousing. Flora rolled her eyes. Guys would be guys, year after year. Normally she would ask them to knock it off, but experience had taught her better. Those kind of guys could be dangerous…especially in the gym.
Flora glanced around to the other side of the bleachers. More or less the same deal. A few of the ‘nerd’ kids were sitting on the far side, noses in their books. Some other ‘popular’ kids chatted on the third row. And then…Flora’s heart stopped beating as she spotted another person. Someone she knew! Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to be alone in gym this year. She gathered up her things and trotted over there.
“Greetings, Louis,” She said. Louis glanced up, but before he could speak, another kid swooped down.
“Tuh! No one says ‘greetings’ anymore, Redhead.” He taunted.
“No one gets in another’s face anymore either, Matt! Now buzz off.” Louis retorted sharply. The kid named Matt looked as if he where about to give a sour reply, but obviously changed his mind.
“Whatever you say, looser.” And with that, he went back to join his buddies, who where laughing at the encounter. Matt laughed with them.
“How’d you know his name?” Flora asked Louis.
“He’s in my first block this year,” Louis explained. “Great sunlight, if he ends summer school, he’d better watch out! That’s my Season; I could get some revenge…” Before he could go on, Flora slapped her hand over his mouth.
“You idiot!” She hissed quietly. “Be quiet about the Seasons! Do you want everyone to know about it?”
“Mmmmph!” Louis muttered. “’Egoh eh outh.”
Flora released him.
“Great sunlight,” Louis muttered. “Why do you always do that?”
“To keep you from revealing everything!” Flora snapped. “Now it would be best if we just stayed quiet until we get our roll call assignments.” Louis didn’t reply.
Coach Sullivan walked out from the locker rooms.
“Alright!” He called. “Settle down! No more horseplay!” Almost everyone listened. No surprise, as Coach Sullivan was quite an intimidating guy—nearly six feet tall, muscular, and glaring eyes. The only thing funny about him was his thick brown moustache.
“Listen up,” He said. “We’re gonna sit you in your roll call lines now. Every morning, when you come in, you’re gonna sit in your spot unless instructed otherwise. Understand?” A few of the students muttered sure.
“I said, understand?” Boomed Coach Sullivan. “Yes sir!” Chorused the students. Good. Now, I’ll give you your assignments…” And he began to list off the students and show them their seat.
Flora and Louis ended up in the last row, as they did every year. They sat quietly, waiting for the bell to ring and the class to end.
A few of the students were talking amongst themselves. Most years, neither Flora nor Louis mingled with anyone. Every few years or so a student may try and talk with them, he or she may even befriend them. But most of the time, they were ignored. This, as usual, was one of those years.
Louis eyed Coach Sullivan uneasily, as if he hoped the teacher would disappear into nothingness, and Louis could take on Matt. Noticing the glint in his eye, Flora nudged him and gave him a warning glance. Louis sighed.
In an attempt to start conversation, Louis spoke. “So, have you seen Hermione yet? Or Zephyr?” He asked Flora.
“Yes, I’ve seen Hermione, but not Zephyr.”
“Who’s her first block teacher this year?”
Flora narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. “I’m quite sure she said Mr. Soachan. He’s a newer teacher; his subject is Physical Science.”
Louis nodded, but said no more. A new teacher, huh?
~ ~ ~
At last, the 4th period bell rang. Louis was quick to leave the gym, followed more slowly by Flora.
Flora’s next class wasn’t too far away, so much unlike impatient Louis; she took her time walking down there, calmly waiting for the crowds to dim. She had art class this year. She had taken the class a few times in the past…well, she had taken every class at least two or more times by now…but there was a new teacher this year. The previous art teacher, Mr. Wellington, had died over the summer due to cancer. He was one of the oldest teachers, Flora knew, but he had still been a good one; his loss was most unfortunate.
Walking into the room, Flora sat down in the nearest unoccupied chair. Around her, students were talking, texting, a select few reading. She laid her head down on the table.
Now, most classrooms have desks, but for some classes (namely, art and science), they use tables instead. Flora liked the tables. She didn’t have to worry quite as much abut her pencil falling off or her desk being tilted sideways (there were an annoying amount of those in the school). Like almost everything else in Madison River, the tables had been somewhat recently replaced, too. A few were shining new, not yet messy with graffiti like some of the older ones. Each table had a slot for each student to put their books, much like a desk, though the table slots were wider than that of a desk, making it easier to store books—another reason Flora preferred them.
As soon as the tardy bell rang, the teacher walked in. Flora groaned inwardly, hoping desperately that this was one of the cases in which looks were deceiving.
The new teacher was old, but not as old as Mr. Wellington had been. She was freakishly thin, but there was no doubt she was strong. Thin, steel-rimmed glasses perched upon her pointed nose. Her graying hair was worn back in a tight bun. She was nearly a perfect stereotypical mean teacher as far as her appearance. The only thing that was out of place for that was her eyes…crystal blue and sparkling; they reminded Flora vaguely of Hermione’s.
Flora relaxed as the teacher spoke warmly. “Welcome, class, my name is Mrs. Laurie, and I’ll be your art teacher this year…”
Flora could tell immediately, after years of observing teachers, that while Mrs. Laurie would be strict about the rules, she would also be a kind teacher. Unfortunately, knowing middle school students, Mrs. Laurie’s harsh side had a possibility of coming out more often than not.
Chapter 3
Louis burst into his next classroom. Gasping for breath, he plopped down in a desk. He was the first student there; the only other being in the room was the teacher. The teacher looked up as Louis rushed in.
“In a hurry, are we?” He asked. “Don’t worry; you have more time than that to get here.” Louis nodded, not really listening. He glanced around the room. He had been in this same class last year, though it had been 7th period, not 4th. It was the drama class—one of Louis’s favorite electives.
Mr. Johnson, the teacher, was always fun and energetic, with a mischievous glint in his eyes which always showed behind his glasses. Louis had particularly enjoyed him last year; he was one of the best drama teachers the school had hired over the years.
Of course, while Louis remembered Mr. Johnson, Mr. Johnson did not remember Louis. The teachers always completely forgot about him, Flora, Hermione, and Zephyr over the summer, each and every year, and when school began again in September, it was as if they’d never seen the group before.
Not so with the students. They noticed how the four peculiar students never passed eighth grade. They noticed how those same students received the same lockers year after year after year. But of course, these students moved up and on, moving into high school, and they soon forgot about them, similar to the teachers over the summer.
One by one (or sometimes 3 to 5 at a time), the rest of the class entered the room. Soon, rather than the silence broken only by Louis’s huffing and the scribbling of Mr. Johnson’s pen, the room was filled with talking, laughter, gossip, and all other kinds of noise. The tardy bell rang and Mr. Johnson stood.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to the 8th grade drama class!” Greeted Mr. Johnson, and he did a playful little dance to lighten the mood in the classroom. Sure enough, all the students laughed.
“This year we’ll be learning all kinds of things, even how to…SCREAM!” And indeed, he screamed the word. Again, the class laughed. A few jumped in amused surprise.
“And I’m Mr. Johnson; I’ll be your teacher.” Mr. Johnson leaned back against his desk and grinned in a goofy manner.
Louis looked around the room, glad to see the student’s amused expressions. In most classes, they looked downright bored at this point…not that Louis could blame them. Most classes didn’t have such a lively introduction!
Louis listened, though not particularly carefully, as Mr. Johnson introduced the standard rules and explained how this class would be so much more fun than the rest of them. Louis smirked at that statement. That’s what every teacher said.
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Last edited by NattiKay on Sun Aug 07, 2011 4:53 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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This story is so mysterious. When are you posting more 
Let this egg hatch! Go to http://pokefarm.org/_ext/user/biggray96#0 to hold the egg.
'Tis okay though, because it's an extremely creative work, and great descriptions of the surroundings!
