This is the start of it. If its bad can someone tell me and i’ll stop writing it.
The sun rolled in my window, the sting of Monday morning settling in my mind. The week was going to be hard, the ear piercing squeal of teenage girls and endless drones of fan girls. In other words One Direction was coming to town. The little town of Presteigne, home to approximately 2,000 people, has never really been an attraction for the stars but apparently all of their fans ‘need some love’. I throw on my white crinkled school shirt tucking it into my skirt, fixing my tie, leggings and t bars and head out the door, brown satchel on back with two day old mascara crusted on my face. I head to my 1965 Austin Healy, the familiar faded blue paint shining from the morning dew. The tickle of silence and the slight hum of commuters making their way into the city for their day at work drowned out by the bored drones of the cows rummaging around finding new patches of grass. I settle into the cracks in the old leather and brace myself for the half hour drive to school.
I get out of my car, the wind rolling in off the wide oval sends my ginger curls flying over my shoulder, whipping my eyes in the process. I walk up to the gates, a crowd blocking the entrance in anticipation for the bands arrival. The sickly sweet smell of perfume lingered in the air. If the boys didn’t die from being smothered they would choke to death. I reach my locker, the normal ruffle of books and light chatter of students was completely gone apart from the occasional clicking of heels down the hall everything was silent, as if it was Sunday. I forcefully pull my locker open; forgetting the combination in the first week was not a good start. I dump my bags in and the scream of adolescent girls ring through the hall sending a buzz of adrenaline through my body. Hearing everything but seeing no one I grab my books and take a seat in my home room. Maybe this week won’t be as hard as I thought.