Sarah
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Post by Sarah on Jun 24, 2009 19:10:41 GMT -5
On the contrary, Caleb didn't always go out of his way to make other people's lives miserable-- not if it messed with his life. So, if it would interfere with his sleeping especially, then he wasn't going to bother. Caleb wasn't the ultimate Satan, after all.
(Me too. Actually, I'm just getting pissed at my ipod)
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Post by kaitie on Jun 24, 2009 21:47:09 GMT -5
Seth looked back over at Caleb, watching him intently, making sure that the boy wasn't going to do anything rash. On the contrary, Seth hadn't done anything to make the boy do something rash... But you never knew with these private school boys and what their problems were. Seth almost wanted to ask Caleb what his problem was but he wasn't quite sure if that would be appropriate for the situation that just occurred previously.
Instead, Seth wet his lips and sat up, wrapping the cord around his iPod, staring at the wall with some kind of intense concentration. Finally he exhaled heavily and faced Caleb. Now he needed to figure out what to say. So instead, he decided to bring up a casual conversation, no sexual orientation or anything confrontational about it. Just a plain old conversation.
"So, have you been at Eddingborough long?" Seth thought he'd ask seeing as Caleb did seem pretty defensive about his room.
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Sarah
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Post by Sarah on Jun 25, 2009 12:09:23 GMT -5
Caleb stared up at the ceiling above him-- the smooth, dull white paint wasn't in the least interesting. As his mind wandered though, Caleb's imagination made it interesting. For a moment, he thought of it as one big painting easel or sketch pad, and thought of what designs he would create if he was able to. Probably a sword or a gun or stick figure holding a gun. It wasn't that the boy was especially violent, but it was what first came to his mind. But, he'd surely be expelled if he was to even attempt it. He already had some doodles around on the walls near his bed, but they were created with pencil so that it could be erased easily.
Every boy here had their share of problems. Some were the usual-- parents divorced; parents fighting; parents being overly zealous of their precious angels. But, some went a little deeper-- social 'dieseases' similar to what Caleb had; not fitting in anywhere. Everyone was messed up somehow. Caleb had his fair share of faults, but he found it comforting to think that he wasn't alone-- at least not alone in being imperfect.
That thought triggered another, which brought up the most annoying tune in his head. He had 2 neices already and the oldest-- Treasure, was getting into an age where T.V stars filled her life. Having had to babysit them all the time he had his fair share of annoying shows. So, right then, the tune from Hannah Montana's 'Nobody's Perfect' sounded in his head. Caleb groaned, turning of his ipod and setting it aside. He was distracted again, but by an unpleasant melody.
But, the other boy seemed to be the remedy to that, which for once, Caleb was gratful for. He thought a minute, his eyes rolling up ward towards the ceiling again. "2 years, 17 days and...." He glanced at a clock, seeing the time of 3:06. "And 2 hours and 8 minutes." he murmured, glancing at Seth. 2 years, 2 weeks ago, he was dropped off at Eddingborough at 1:14 PM. For once, he hadn't forgotten.
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Post by kaitie on Jun 25, 2009 23:27:37 GMT -5
And Seth thought he had it bad. He looked down at his fingernails and when Caleb spoke he then looked back up at the boy opposite of him in the room. Caleb made it sound like this place was a prison, and by the looks of the rather dreary rooms, Seth was beginning to see it. He nodded and mouthed a simple "wow, that sucks." There was nothing more to be said to that because Seth didn't want to push his limits on the already thin ice between him and Caleb. It just wasn't worth it. But instead of listening to that common sense inside of him, he pushed forth another question: "Did your parents send you here or did you want to go here?"
It was a deep question, and Seth didn't mean it to be a deep question. He didn't want to hear about any of the skeletons in Caleb's closet, just a simple, "parents made me" or "home life sucked" answer would suffice. He wasn't asking for much.
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Sarah
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Post by Sarah on Jun 26, 2009 11:09:09 GMT -5
For once, Caleb's tone didn't hold a mocking of amused quality. Instead, it was a tone of voice he used in class-- bored and simply stating the facts. It held no expression, and neither did his face. His blue eyes didn't even hold a hint of lonliness like some of the boys got when they talked about their home lives. Caleb had learned long ago to get over it-- though it still exsisted within him.
His expression didn't even change at the next question, though he was surprised by it. He shrugged slightly, trying to brush off the wave of pain that did come to him. That was another thing he couldn't forget-- the feeling of being sent here. "I was sent here." he said shortly. "But, mother knows best." he said bitterly, rolling his blue eyes.
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Post by kaitie on Jun 27, 2009 23:15:40 GMT -5
Seth understood that phrase all too well. Except it was vice versa. It was his father who knew well. He nodded understanding. "Yeahh.. I've heard that one too many times." He sighed moving himself to the wall so he was sitting up right with his back to the wall. He had pulled out a tennis ball from his bag and was now tossing it up at the ceiling, letting it come back down.
Boredom, one of his least favorite things. Seth was glad that the air had cleared between him and Caleb, or at least he thought it had cleared.
(OhOhEw. I have major writers block. It's like 12:30 and I've worked the past 5 days and I've been in the worst mood. Sorry for this.)
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Sarah
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Post by Sarah on Jul 4, 2009 16:21:10 GMT -5
Caleb couldn't help but snort slightly, rolling his eyes. "You're telling me." he muttered. It was clear to see that he wasn't too happy with his mother's decision. 'Maybe you'll make friends here,' she had said. 'Maybe you'll get a scholarship to a college if you keep your grades up' Blah. Blah. Blah.
The blonde's head tilted so as to watch the other as he tossed up some sort of a bag, though Caleb didn't know what of. Slowly, he rolled his eyes, and looked back at the space that hung over his own head. "What are you in for?" he asked, not looking at the other when doing so.
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