The Locked Door [Open]

Maisie had outwitted the headmaster. He had outwitted her mother. It had been so simple, so devious. All she had to do was walk up that flight of stairs, a harmless flight of utility stairs that seemed less convenient than the primary ones. She took it all the way up, and was there, on that rooftop. It was a small space, taken up mostly by transformers and large electrical boxes. She didn't need a lot of space, though. She'd take it up, lean on the ledge, and smoke or watch. Even in the winter, she found reprieve in this. Even in the winter, the air up there did not seem cold at all.

That was why she was enraged to find it locked on a Friday, a fresh metal sign bolted to the door. Its yellow face read; "No Trespassing! Employees Only!"

"You've got to be shitting me!"

It was her furious wandering that brought her to the conservatory, bag slung over her shoulder as she made her way inside. She felt the blast of the heater at the front door, and the lack of people inside made her breathe out. The plants didn't flourish as much in the winter, even with the temperature control. There was an eerie silence, and it made her notice the world around her. The leaves motionless in the lack of wind. The creaks of the old wooden beams. The spider spinning a web in a corner of the floor.

She walked over and promptly squished it under her foot.

Did Jonathan know? Would he tell her if he knew? Jonathan was distant from her, as if they were ever close to begin with. In a way, he angered her more than anyone else. Was this a good thing? An excuse never to see him again? She hated men, how they always shied away, always seemed to half-discard you, and yet still permeated her. Fuck Jonathan. Fuck Liam.

You're never gonna get married, huh? Her father gave her a sideways smirk, prompting her to put her chubby arms out to change it, to morph it into something more believing.
Not unless it's you, she squeaked indignantly.
You can't marry me.
Yes I can, daddy!
You'd be making some poor guy out there very sad.
I don't care, boys are gross!

Maisie walked down the path of plants. She picked a certain fern, and slowly began to pluck the leaves from it.

The plants were quickly becoming Minnie's closest companions. When she was younger, her grandmother had showed her how to tend them and bring out the best possible growth. It had all become useless information to her as she grew older. She didn't need to know how to prune azaleas in order to do her makeup or make friends or date. But ever since she had come to this school, she had been experiencing problems with making friends and talking.

Here in the conservatory, she could easily talk to the plants. It was good practice for her gift, as nobody could make fun of her for speaking to plants in various voices when it was beneficial to them. Minnie found herself beating the familiar path to the conservatory on Friday after classes had ended. It was easy to enter, the warm feeling of the greenhouse effect and the heaters enveloping her as she stepped through the doors, the earthy smell filling her nose. She smiled, taking comfort in being in her new home.

Her happiness was disrupted as she realized with surprise that there was another person here, already a ways down the path. With a slight frown, she walked cautiously down the path, preparing to be the persona she faked when meeting new people. Rounding a corner, she saw a blonde girl picking at a fern leaf. Something about her was interesting. The most intriguing part, however, was how she pulled the leaves from the fern as though she had it out for the leaf, something Minnie was sure they weren't allowed to do. Bristling with indignation, she stepped forward where the girl could see her.

"Why did you pick that?" she asked, her voice much louder than she meant it to be.

Maisie reached for another leaf when a voice caught her attention. The blonde girl turned, and smiled. Uh oh, she'd done it now! They sicked security on her! The smile widened as this girl stomped over to her, an obvious aura of anger around her. "Sorry, is this yours?" She narrowed her eyes, fingers around the stem, the base of the small leaf. She gave it a tug. "Sorry. Din't know anyone would be here." She casually flicked it to the dirty floor, where the other plucked leaves resided.

Freya gave a sigh as she walked to the conservetory. It had been a long week of total shit. First she had to be nice, then was asigned to a dorm with all guys. She hoped this was the place she could finally find some peace. The student opened the door and walked in, shutting it quietly. She took a breath, loving the smell of the plants, finding it amazing that this building could keep them alive in the cold winter months.

She walked around for a bit admiring the beautiful plants, soon hearing voices getting closer. Her steps were silent and nimble as she turned the corner and spotted two other students. "Oh my God." The charming girl mumbled in her usual bored tone, staying were she was.

There was so much happening. Minnie's every instinct was making her angry. The first girl's attitude about the fern was maddening, and the appearance of another girl and... Was that a crow?

"No, it's not mine," she snapped, her hands balling into fists. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't respect it. It's just a plant." She suddenly didn't want to be here.

Maisie didn't seem inclined to answer Minnie. She didn't very well care, and it seemed the girl had already backed away from any kind of confrontation. It was the grating, shrill voice that seemed to appear behind her, and out of nowhere, some girl walked up, some bitch who seemed to need an attitude adjustment from the sheer entitlement to their conversation that she imposed. 'Oh my God?' Who the fuck was she talking to? Maisie didn't even notice the crow as her mouth went to a grimace. "Who the fuck are you?" She nodded in Freya's direction as she said this.

She looked at the crow, giving a small grin. They were her favorite birds, symbolizing mystery and magic. "Someone really damn sick of people everywhere. There's literally no where in this god forsaken school to find some peace and quiet." Freya said with her arms crossed. She then looked to the other girl that seemed to be offended by picking flowers. This outta be fun. Freya walked over to a bed of flowers and plucked a mercilessly from its roots. "Why care so much for something that has no purpose?" She said flatly, observing the flower.

Minnie was no longer indignant over the girl who had picked at the fern. She could easily brush that off. After all, ferns were strong plants, it would grow back and continue to be beneficial. But the girl who had snapped at her in an unnecessarily bitchy tone was out of line. She had nothing to do with the situation, and her words were nasty.

She turned slowly, running her tongue over her teeth as she sized up the girl that seemed to think she was queen bee. As casually as she could, her voice laced with an edge that was designed to hurt, Minnie mused, "Must be why nobody cares for you." With a half shrug, she smiled at Freya, wondering how on earth her once tranquil spot had seemingly become the most popular place on campus. There was a boy now, too, and it appeared that the crow was his pet. The dark-haired girl hardly batted an eye. Nothing at this school was normal.

Maisie was surprised by the help proposed by Minnie. She kind of liked it, in her stubborn ways. It certainly made her feel tougher. "Well move along, 'cus we ain't gonna give you quiet here." A pause, both to give an alpha grin, the kind that said everything but 'I'm happy.' It was sour. This girl sure din't know how to talk to strangers. Her parents must had never taught her that.

A pause, a contemplation of another voice. Great, yet another person. Great, it was fucking Jonathan. She spun, putting her hands into her pockets, slouching a little, her arms making two semicircles as she leaned on her back foot. "You've been following me since the day you saw me," she acknowledged, chewing at the side of her mouth, the inner cheek, leaving her mouth slanted, ponderous. What to do with him? It was obviously why the crow was there now...

"What'sup, Jonno?"

Still glaring at the girl, Freya dropped the flower letting it fall gracefully to the ground and dug her heal into it, making a crunch sound. She kept a calm face on, not being one to get worked up over stupid comebacks but rather show what would happen if someone pissed her off. "You're probably right." Freya replied flatly, her arms crossed. "Good thing I never asked anyone to care." She hated smiles, no matter if they were fake or not.

She looked to where the other student started talking to someone and saw Jonathan. Freya wondered what he was doing there and why he had a crow. "What's with the crow?" She asked her dorm mate curiously.

Minnie watched Freya crush the flower, and while she bristled more at the blatant rudeness, she felt satisfied over her comment, smirking as she turned away from Freya, focusing instead on this boy with the crow. He called it Princess, as though it were something sweet instead of a near death omen.

"I always come here," she said quietly. "I don't know why these guys are here."

"Yeah, a little." Her eyes traced down to the fern she stood beside, her pale fingers grasping the stem of a leaf at either side. She frowned, but didn't pull it. It wasn't like he went up there much anyway. She wanted to pull it, wanted to be angry about something. She didn't want to see him. He annoyed her with his showing up when she was trying to think of something else, to be with someone who wasn't him. Maybe make a friend or two. This purple-haired cunt wasn't that much of a cunt.

She was angry at someone, though. She was angry at the edgy, entitled, nuisance of a person who came in and immediately started blabbing her mouth. She picked the leaf and turned, to face this girl, withdrawing a cigarette from her bag. Her first in over a week; this one was purely aesthetic. The plants around her were pretty flammable, after all. That made her pretty powerful. Wick wick, she brought her lighter to the tip, and smoke danced a waltz from the timid flame that appeared. "I told you to move along, bitch." Gerard Way over there was good for nothing but emo whining.

She was used to people disliking her presence. There might as well have been a rain cloud following her around for she always seemed gloomy. "Trying to find some quiet." Freya mumbled barely audible. For a few moments she thought to herself about pointless shit until her thoughts fell upon the bird. "A crow, such a wonderful creature." She accidentally whispered aloud.

First, she had picked the leaf and was tearing it apart. Now she had lit a cigarette in a controlled environment meant to keep the plants safe and allow for natural growth. The toxins in the smoke were bound to cause some kind of imbalance, although it was just one cigarette, perhaps it would be okay as long as she didn't have another. Minnie crossed her arms and shifted her weight uncomfortably in place.

Yeah, go with that guy and torture his plants, these ones don't need you. Despite wanting to speak out loud, Minnie sensed that this girl wasn't one she wanted to pick a fight with at that moment. Sure, she didn't have a problem snapping at the other one, but something about the way this smoking girl spoke told Minnie it was smart to hold her tongue. Desperately, she wanted to tell all of them to leave. But it was a public place, they were free to enter.

Maisie wanted to slap her. Maisie wanted to beat her up so badly, but there were eyes on her, eyes that would stop her, and she realized she had to handle things a better way. She flicked a fun embers onto the floor, keeping her eyes on the delusional person before her. It was a solid, hard gaze, an 'I'm gonna get you if I see you again' gaze. "Sure," She said, lips forming a tight frown on her mouth, and she spun to join her friend. As soon as they left, she hissed at him. "Do you know that bitch?" He didn't seem as taken aback by her enigmatic sputtering as she and Minnie did. Her eyes looked up at him, green and peeved as usual, and she hugged her arms at the whip of a gust.