Tati
Hey, Sophia, I started writing the next part of the chapter. It's the memories section. What do you think?
There were flashes, images too blurry to make out, and then suddenly, there was clarity. They were sitting on a bench, outside, in the blinding noon light. They faced a courtyard that was all too familiar to Ally. She used to play there every day in grade school. But wasn’t this supposed to be Samantha’s memory?
Three girls were standing a few yards in front of her, and Samantha must have recognized them because she moved to greet them. Upon moving closer, Ally recognized one of them. It was Elena. She must have been twelve or thirteen. If this really was Samantha's memory, she must have been eleven years old. The same age that she was when she was expelled. Elena whispered to one of the girls. The girl sneered.
“I’m not afraid of some girl!” The girl shouted. As Samantha approached the girls, she began to stumble. A moment later, the two girls standing next to Elena, started to scream, and in a matter of seconds, they had fled.
“What did you do?!” Elena scowled.
“Nothing! Nothing, I didn’t mean to, I swear,” Samantha replied, her voice frail. The memory faded, giving way to a new one.
They were in an office. Ally knew this office, it was Mr. Garcia’s office. Mr. Garcia was the Principal at Ally’s grade school. He was a stout man with short black hair and brown, beady eyes. During the time that Ally spent at Southwater Elementary, Mr. Garcia was notorious for his short temper. Next to them, sat Elena and the two girls from the courtyard. Behind them, were Samantha’s parents. Samantha’s mother was a tall, poised woman, with long, black hair and forest green eyes. Her father was short by comparison, with short, brown hair and blue eyes.
“Samantha, if the allegations brought before me are true, then I have no choice but to expel you, for the safety of the rest of the students,” Mr. Garcia said.
“But…but I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault!” Samantha argued.
“From what I’ve heard, it was. Now get out!” Mr. Garcia yelled.
The image of Mr. Garcia is distorted.
It felt as though Ally got sucked back in time because she was standing in front of Elena’s door. The dark, wooden floors that Ally was used to were replaced by worn gray carpet, and the cream walls were now a dark shade of red that resembled wine.
There was a rather severe-looking woman facing her. She had hazel eyes and long, dirt brown hair that was in a bun. She wore a white shirt, a black blazer, and dress pants.
“With the signing of this document, you are hereby banned from the premises. If you are to enter the property again in your lifetime, you will be committing a crime,” the woman said, with no trace of sympathy.