"Victor Trevor"

The excitement over the announcement of the Christmas Mayhem had yet to calm down; although Genesis knew that no one would stop talking about until they returned from school after the Christmas holidays. Everywhere she turned she could hear everyone talking about what they would wear and who they were going with- as if any of them were older than ten years of age. Rolling her eyes she pulls on the fabric of her bag harshly to tighten the straps around her shoulders and enters the noisy classroom already prepared to ignore her classmates. It was only when multiple paper balls flew into her chest did she know something was wrong.

Looking around, dumbfounded, at her class she finds them all smirking and laughing in her direction. Squinting down at the small pile of paper she hesitantly obeys their chants to 'pick it up'. Unfolding the crumpled paper she finds her breath hitching in her throat, a stuffy feeling wedging its way into her airways. The paper had one word written on it in bold black marker. Attempting to swallow the lump in her throat, Genesis glances around at all of the expectant faces. They wanted her to cry or yell or retaliate in a negative way. Pursing her lips, determined to not please their needs, she turns the paper to them.

"You spelt 'freak' wrong." Crushing the paper back into a ball she tosses it back at the grimacing class. They were oddly silent as they watched the ball roll along the floor. Someone behind her clears their throat. Looking up, an elderly woman with wild grey hair frowns down at her.

"I will not have paper balls being thrown in my classroom, thank you very much." She glances around the class knowing everything that had occurred. "And I will not tolerate illiterate bullying above all in my class. Miss Magnussen," she looks down her hooked nose at the child surrounded by paper, "pick up this mess and return to your seat." Scrambling to collect the paper and to scurry away from the menacing woman, Genesis drops the paper into the wastepaper bin and rushes to her lonely seat by the teacher's desk.

After registration, the entire class was set on with a spelling practice that would most likely last them the entire hour. Genesis, however, completed hers within twenty minutes and sat with her hand in her chin watching the substitute tap away on the computer.

"Miss?" Glancing away from the screen the taut women smiles tightly.

"Yes, Miss Magnussen?" For a moment, she hesitated, a pit forming in her gut as she began to overthink what the answer to her question may be. She wasn't used to not knowing the answer to her question in the slightest which allowed her imagination to wander. Of course, everything she considered was the worst possible thing she could consider. Gathering her thoughts, Genesis failed to mask her frown through her question.

"Where is Miss Murdock?" The substitute smiles and pats her hand.

"She is simply away on holiday, you don't need to worry." Despite her relief, the tightness in her chest failed to cease. Her worry was replaced with overwhelming loneliness at the absence of her only friend. "She'll be back next week. Don't worry, Genesis." With a small smile Genesis nods and begins gathering her things as the class begins their dismissal.

Stepping into the playground for her break was unusual. Without Miss Murdock being in school Genesis had no choice but to go outside and she was lost. The screaming and laughing of the other students were different from the tapping of a keyboard and the turning of a page that she was so accustomed to. Seeing more than the thirty students in her class was overwhelming, never had she seen so many small people.

As a group of boys in the year below ran past her like water around a boat she squealed and curled in on herself. As soon as they were away from her she scurried to a hollowed out section of the wall big enough for her to tuck herself comfortably out of sight of everyone else. Bringing her knees to her chest she tucked her chin in the crevice of them and wrapped her arms around her legs. Lifting her gaze only to check that whoever was talking or running by hadn't noticed her, Genesis lost herself in her thoughts.

She found her mind wandering to the previous Saturday where her father had sat her and Isaiah down to explain the complexity of building their own 'vaults'. He had told them that the technique he used was called the 'memory palace'. He told them that it took an immense amount of patience- how, in order to create his vaults, he had isolated himself in his mind and away from his family for days on end when Isaiah was a small child.

Closing her eyes, Genesis began to follow her father's advice: to begin with a room you know like the back of your hand; to build it from the floor up until it is almost a picture perfect image in her mind before adding anything new to it. So she started with her own bedroom.

First, the perfect square the room was built into and it's yellow walls plastered with Shakespeare quotes written in calligraphy all over it. She took her time forming the words and memorising all of the quotes, every word spiralling outwards and inwards with delicate intricacy- exactly how she had watched her mother paint it. The ceiling began to shine as it did at night with the glow in the dark stars David had stuck to the ceiling when she turned two years old. As the grey sheer blinds fluttered in the permanent draft the window allowed a voice shocked her from her mind.

A boy's round face was so close to hers she squeals unintentionally and attempts to scoot backwards, knocking her head on the brick behind her and knocking the wind out of her. She splutters and looks up at the bemused boy and notices a smaller, more quiet boy behind him.

"Hi!" The first boy had strawberry blonde hair and dark chocolate eyes. He has a wide smile on his face and crawls into the empty space in front of her. "I'm Victor Trevor and this is my friend, Sherlock." He pulls his friend into the empty space with him and allows Genesis a good glance at the shy boy's unruly hair and crystal blue eyes. For a moment she just stared- unsure of their intentions. Victor Trevor cleared his throat to catch her attention. "You looked lonely and we thought you could use the company!" His grin was so wide and genuine and kind she almost gave one back. However, with the gleeful screams of the other children, her features fell and she glanced nervously out at the playground.

"You shouldn't be here," she told them, "you run the risk of being called a freak." Shifting on his heels he shrugs and glances back at Sherlock.

"They already think we're freaks." Sherlock was averting his gaze at all costs, his head bowed and hands intertwining in his lap as he passes a rock between his hands. Narrowing her eyes at the shy boy, Genesis frowns and looks to Victor Trevor with curiosity in her eyes. He takes the hint and tells her. "They're jealous because Sherlock is smarter than them... and they think I'm a freak because I'm his friend." Straightening his back proudly Victor Trevor grins. "We play pirates." Genesis giggles as does Victor Trevor. Leaning to look at Sherlock, Genesis offers him a kind smile.

"I'm too smart for them too, Sherlock, they bully me too." He looks up to her with a shocked look, finally acknowledging her appearance and not understanding quite how this girl of all people could be bullied, she seemed so kind and genuine. He restrains a smile and watches as she leans forwards eagerly like a mother advising her child. "Love looks not with eyes, but with the mind." He gapes and considers whether he could trust her enough to talk to her.

"Sherlock," Victor Trevor nudges his curly-haired friend with a mischievous smile, "you can talk. She may be a year 6 but she's like us." Shutting his mouth, Sherlock nods and meets Genesis' expectant gaze with a small smile.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream." He whispers, causing a giant grin to spread on Genesis' face, she knew that they would get along and hoped dearly that they would accept her as their friend because she was desperate for company.