Warriors of Change:Sent(enced) to School

By Tina Brescanu

When Milla is sent(enced) to six years in secondary school her unrecognised school-itis gets worse.
“It’s a real disease,” Milla insists who has survived early puberty and two uncompleted suicides due to being forced to become who she isn’t.
“No, I’m not bullied, sometimes it’s “just” school.”

But she can’t let her parents go to prison again. She meets Sky, a homeschooled, disabled boy who self-medicates on laughter and Sunny, a girl of unusual origin who insists she’s Milla’s guardian angel. “You’re more powerful than you know,” she says and Milla listens as the animals whose powers she has always been fascinated by suddenly comes to life through her.
Together with her Irish twin brother, Holger, the foursome take on school in a battle to regain ownership of their own lives.
In this unconventional story, four teens fight against school as the only option to journey through the start of life, but violence, punishments and threats can change minds, will it change theirs?

Will Milla and her friends succeed in their mission to change school or will they be made to fall back into line and follow the mass schooling?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tina Brescanu
• Release date: Aug 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476381275

Tina Brescanu

Tina is a bilingual writer of unconventional fiction.

Book preview

Warriors of Change

Sent(enced) to School

By Tina Brescanu

Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by Tina Brescanu

All Rights Reserved.

To my family, immediate, original and extended

"Change is the transition from same to different

Ever present

Ever encompassing

Contents:

1. Sent(enced) to School

2. School is a place where you learn who you can’t be

3. Detention is false imprisonment

4. School uniforms are imprisonment of creative spirit

5. Distraction Union

6. Forced teaching

7. Religion equals division

8. Bully teacher

9. Collaborative learning

10. You’re wrong, truth comes from authority

11. We’ll correct you

12. Follow your heart, it’s always right

13. Punishment is an expression of hate

14. There is so much to relearn

15. Who owns you?

16. Spirit of humanity

17. Warriors of change

18. Change Declaration

19. Department of Schooling

20. Productive in different ways

21. Children’s right to own life campaign

22. Belonging to myself

WARRIORS OF CHANGE

AUTHOR: YOU

If you’re reading this, you wrote it.

This is a reminder to always create a new life, never settle for a duplicate life.

This is a rulebook, rules that are made to be broken, in this life.

There are many books like this, one for each life ever lived, most are not written down, some are almost identical copies, but still unique.

If you’re reading this, it’s a call to change everything to suit the life you live now.

This is a holy book; it’s sacred because of the changes you will make, not because of what you once wrote, however clever, it’s not the life you’re living now.

Always live a new life.

Always live your life.

Start breaking the rules.

Start rewriting the manuscript of your life.

What are you going to change?

CHAPTER 1

SENT(ENCED) TO SCHOOL

The school is a monster! I don’t want to go!

Milla studied the imposing structure of the school and could only agree with her Irish twin brother, Holger.

The flat-roofed, brown building looked alive and hungry. The half-closed shutters covering the windows formed part of a giant mouth. All the cameras observing every angle turned into eyes, eyes zooming in on them.

The school wants to eat us! Holger screamed and hid behind Milla. Milla took a step back as several eyes of the monster surged closer. She reminded herself to breathe.

Milla shivered as the asphalted yard momentarily transformed into a graveyard. Gravestones with hers and Holger’s name, open coffins waiting to be filled flashed before her. School fills you up and close you down. The smell of rot hit Milla, and she quickly squeezed her nose. Holger did too.

School has become a monster from decades of burying children alive, of feeding us false ideas of sameness until we might as well be dead, Milla spoke from experience. She had survived primary school, despite two attempts to kill herself, but only her parents and Holger believed just school was the reason, while experts and professionals insisted she must be bullied, she must be depressed or was she mentally ill?

No, it’s just school, Milla shouted out again, but the school didn’t listen. The school had never listened, and this school would be no different to any other school. This school was definitely a monster, but only those with eyes to see could see. Milla and Holger both possessed super sensory eyesight. Milla who wore glasses had better second sight than Holger who had perfect eyesight.

The dimension of Milla’s continually expanding reality clashed with the energy field of Lost Children Community College, when, for a brief moment, the name switched into Lesser Beings.

Milla wanted to run in the opposite direction, but instead, she kept her petite, yet well-built body steady in front of Holger. She put her head back, raised her chin, bore her eyes into the monster and stuck her tongue out.

You’re not going to get me! No one can control my mind! Her light chocolate coloured skin fired up but she didn’t go red, just hot chocolate, thanks to a Brazilian Swedish, almost royal parenting mix.

The coffin lids banged shut, but the school was still a monster. Milla punched the air. The beast growled and showed its huge teeth, snapping—going in for a bite, before retreating into a school. Milla wasn’t fooled. She knew the school was really a monster.

I’ve been sentenced here; this is a punishment. An opportunity would be to explore my interests, she said denouncing the ancient institution while hopping from the energy of the Earth’s power lines running through the ground just underneath her.

What’s happening to me? She had gone through puberty earlier than anyone should, and it had been hard enough, but there was something else happening to her, something stirring and moving deep inside. She investigated the ground and Holger did likewise. The yard wobbled.

A group of girls passing by threw a weird at them. She quickly and loudly retorted with gratitude: Thanks for the compliment. She congratulated herself for her cleverness. See, I don’t need to go to school; I can make my own education.

I’m going home, Holger said, grimacing and fidgeting. I hate school. He turned around, ready to sprint, but Milla pulled on his arm. It’s time to fight our own fights, we can’t let mum and dad go to prison again," she said, shuddering at the crazy setup of parts of society—parents going to prison if children were not sent(enced) to school.

Holger looked into her face, and when she showed him some of the same dread, he reluctantly came back.

This place is full of ghosts, he said. Milla nodded but didn’t tell Holger that she thought she had recognised someone from a long time ago. Life from another life. Déjà vu.

Death is present alright; I wonder how many brain cells die in here every day? Milla didn’t intend to let any of hers die in here.

Yes, without anyone mourning the loss of our innate creativity, Holger agreed with Milla. Their closeness was unnatural according to the school system even if they were twins. The school system wanted to divide them. Milla blamed the school system for the divided society they lived in but happily noted that socialisation hadn’t worked on them. Not yet. When they entered the schoolyard, they automatically reached for each other’s hands. The touch jolted them, and Milla withdrew her hand first.

Hah, look at the love couple! A fierce voice echoed throughout the concrete yard. Milla turned and saw a tall boy with a head almost comically larger than his body; she immediately raised her defences. The whole student population turned in their direction. She stood quiet and still and as incapable as Holger of doing anything.

Milla owned and fully occupied her first home, her body, and together with her own belief system her armour was powerful, but today being forced to wear a uniform for the first time, she was far from comfortable.

School uniforms are a punishment. School hates us, and the feeling is fecking mutual. Milla muttered and pulled at the brown skirt which made her think of North Korea and opened up the equally hated tie as she struggled to breathe. Wearing clothes she hadn’t decided on herself made her acutely aware of her own body. Suddenly a body pushed into hers. She cried out and pushed back.

Boar, why don’t you give her a taste of real love? a passive participant of the ancient bully and victim game called out to the person whose body had tried to knock Milla. Boar smiled and showed off two sharp front teeth making him look even more as his namesake.

The active participants circled and began pushing in, closer and closer. Milla swallowed. Holger yelped. Milla silently thanked him; his fear made hers easier to deal with.

Boar poked Milla in the stomach, a total invasion of space. Milla shuddered but puckered her heart and gathered her courage.

A new school with its bunch of cowards, how typical, Milla said, managing to keep her voice steady and strong, not letting the tiniest bit of the dread she felt slip out.

Search them and take all valuables. Boar flicked her while giving orders. She jumped while his followers immediately obeyed. Someone tried to grab her bag, but she held on. Boar punched her. Milla flinched and held her stomach while concentrating on not crying. She needed to retaliate quickly. Do something. Don’t cry.

"Coward! Racist! She clawed at him, but he grabbed her arms and held hard while someone else reached into her jacket pockets and fished out her mobile phone.

This will pay for a night out this weekend. Boar pocketed Milla’s phone with a smug grin. Holger cried while Milla burnt up with anger.

You won’t get away with this, she said, kicking and wriggling trying to get out of an iron hold as they could only watch while active participants emptied their bags, took their valuables and trampled and muddied the rest.

Oh, but we will, Boar grinned while sweet talking. The sound of a trimmed engine interrupted Boar, and he quickly swung around. Everyone did.

Look who is back, the winner at being a loser! Immediately, the group dispersed and moved in on the new target, a boy in a wheelchair.

Phew, that was close. Holger wiped straying tears as he picked up his bag from the ground where it had been muddied and squashed by chemically brain imbalanced thugs.

We have to help that boy. Milla followed her heart, and her heart was always on duty. She extended her hand, knowing weirdly that her strength would be enough for him too. Holger reluctantly agreed. She dashed, with Holger as a tail, between bodies forming a mob, a mob moving in on a target. Not on my watch.

Welcome to your first-day ritual, Sky! Glad to see you back in school. Homeschooling is for losers and weirdoes Boar growled with anticipation to the new victim. The boy in the wheelchair flicked his long blonde hair and smiled at the leader of the real losers.

Run. No stay. Run. Milla stood her ground despite the internal fight in her head.

Wipe that smile off your face, you have obviously forgotten who your boss is. You need reminding. Boar was a leader with thin skin and a hard heart.

Milla hesitated, making tight fists while growling.

All eyes zoomed in on the boy in a wheelchair, all except the school monster, which was good as he was on the wrong side of justice anyway.

Tape him! Boar produced two rolls of thick glue tape.

Stop! Milla’s roar wasn’t loud enough. The mob proceeded to tape the boy’s mouth.

Holger pulled on her arm, trying to stop her, but no one could stop Milla once she had decided on a course of action, even the threat of losing her life. I love living my life out loud!

Stop! Milla shouted again, but no one heard her. She pushed off from her toes.

STOP! This time, slow motion set in, almost like when she sometimes hit the button on a scene in a film that she liked particularly much. Only, she didn’t like this scene. She wished she could fast forward. The whole mob turned to look at her.

A hero! Let the new girl join the party! Boar welcomed her.

Her heart beat wildly in her throat. She had never felt as alive as now. Strange.

Strong arms yanked her from her stagnant position. Sweat dampened her clothes. Forceful hands pushed her from behind, and she fell at the foot pedals of the boy in a wheelchair. His empathic gaze spurred her up.

Laughter, evil laughter, filled the air, and her legs dragged behind her as the bullies pulled her up to the only tree in the asphalted yard. Her heart skipped as the faces turned evil, zombie-like. Everyone had a phone in their hand, filming. Soon she’d be online too.

This was a new genre of horror film, no acting allowed; it all had to be real, it was a growing market. She inhaled as the tape pulled her body taut against the trunk of the tree. Suddenly, she left her body and soared above, like someone else, like an animal, like an eagle. She had been able to do weird stuff all her life, but lately, thought was enough to bring her out of her own body into someone else’s, usually an animal, an animal with power. The weight of the wings in her body enabled her to circle the air and breathe the salt from Dublin Bay and the forest from Wicklow. Down below, the human version of herself looked big and powerful, not small and helpless at all.

Who am I? She fell into her body again. She thought she knew herself, especially since she had saved her own life, but she didn’t. Not yet.

Who are you? I tell you who you are; you are a foreigner, a fucking foreigner. The leader of the group had notions of his own importance.

I’m Irish. She was, only differently Irish.

No, you are not, not really. Even in uniforms, it’s obvious that you’re not from here—ugly mix race, fecking coconut! Wolf whistles and evil laughter followed his words.

It’s not racism; it’s truth. Cheers and loud laughter echoed throughout the yard.

I’m born in Ireland, so I’m Irish, but I also have both Brazilian and Swedish blood which makes me interesting, but maybe you are too over schooled to know this. She liked her answer, but Boar didn’t, but instead of hitting her, he punched Holger. Holger cried out, and the crowd jeered him. Could he not take a stroke?

Sky sped up to the hitman and drove into his legs. Holger stayed close to Sky, utilising his wheelchair for protection.

LET ME GO! Milla managed to put all the attention back on her. Boar kicked her on the shins; she grimaced without screaming which took a lot of imagination.

I love this! I love inflicting pain! Boar drooled as he ran laps around the tree to the rhythm of the applause of the audience.

That’s because you are a pain. Milla couldn’t be quiet or still.

A back answerer, I like it. Boar clapped his hands before boxing both into her stomach. She fell headfirst into her chest without uttering a sound. Holger whined, hurting for her. She counted quietly in Irish and came back when she reached thirty-three.

Quiet, Boar hissed and walloped her in the face. As her face flew sideways, she could hear a rumble in the sky.

Tension rose. Kill her, kill her, kill her! This is not a game. This is real. This is a snuff film.

The chanting grew louder and louder, dark clouds gathered in the sky, ready to explode.

WAKE UP; HE’S NOT YOUR FRIEND, HE’S A BRAIN-DAMAGED PSYCHOPATH!

Sky and Holger shouted in unison, but the followers were also brain damaged, from lack of parental love or some other cause. Not even love bombing was going to help as it took time to neutralise hate, and time was not on their side now.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO BE POWERFUL! She looked to see if it was the twosome again, but the second time she located the voice deep within. It was her inner voice shouting, but it also sounded like it came from an outside source, but from where or who?

I will rip you apart, Boar threatened and opened his mouth to show off his enormous teeth. The audience cheered as Milla’s upper body toppled over. The churning of fear in her stomach moved upwards. Visions of what could happen if she was right in her predictions played out in her head. She shook herself to get rid of images of herself murdered on her first day in secondary school.

She bore her eyes into the crowd, trying to find the owner of the voice telling her to be powerful; someone to help her end the spell, but all she could see was children hypnotised by the power of violence.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO BE POWERFUL! Her inner voice shouted again, but Milla was busy concentrating on not throwing up.

Where did most of your indoctrination and brainwashing take place? Milla asked, filling up on her special power. Who made you a bully? Was it your parents, school or a combination?"

What do you mean? I’m my own boss and a leader, Boar shot his mouth load off with a shower of accompanying spit in Milla’s face. Eww!

Boar’s the student union president, he owns you, just like school. His gang showed support for their leader like good sheep. Boar gloated under the assistance from his dependants. Milla relaxed her whole body to loosen the tape.

You think school supports you, but you’re more owned than I’ll ever be, she said, eating up her own fear, making her sicker and sicker. She closed her eyes. The ghosts were all around. The rank smell of rot almost choked her. She dry heaved.

You don’t know anything about me, Boar said, punching Milla in the stomach. She flew upward before falling forward again. She took a deep breath to get back up.

I know you’ve been robbed, of a lot more than your mind, did you know that? she said sarcastically, using all her strength to be able unable to reply. Your inner adult is all there.

He grabbed both her cheeks with cupped hands, twisting her face to look into his eyes.

I’m going to teach you what you’ve obviously missed, Boar smirked and lapped up the applause from his faithful followers.

Milla’s heart beat so fast she thought it would hop out if she opened her mouth.

Let me give you some of my fears, she said and dumped a fair bit of her dread by vomiting on his shoes, some splashing on his trousers. Milla wiped her face and spat out any leftovers. She felt better. He ate fear for fuel. Well, he wasn’t going to eat what she had dumped.

Uh, disgusting pig. Boar twitched his nose and lifted his arm to swing but stumbled and stepped right in the vomit, cursing loudly.

She’s got balls, someone said as a weird compliment.

No, I don’t. I have breasts and a vagina—organs of life and death, she said, putting the female organs in a power position.

You are just a girl, a foreign girl. Does he really think I find his insults offensive?

Boar bashed Milla with enough force to double her over and out of consciousness.

We need your help, one of the ghosts she had only seen the shadow of earlier greeted her in unconsciousness. She laughed.

Yes, I can see why you are asking me for help, I can perform miracles taped to a tree with at least one punctured lung.

You don’t know your own strength, the ghosts said. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time." She had been waiting for herself too. She wanted to be like a boy; bold and strong, but then she reminded herself that Holger was sensitive and strong and that worked too, but not in school.

Who are you? Milla seemed to be talking to herself, but she wasn’t just mumbling in pain. She could see a tall, thin boy with long, brown locks and a cheeky grin.

Don’t you remember me? I’m Life. He fired off a smile.

No, you’re dead. She didn’t know any ghosts, but she knew the feeling of déjà vu.

Still funny, a new life hasn’t changed you. I’m glad you’re finally here to finish unfinished business.

I’m starting school. This is my first day. What are you doing here?

I’m still trapped here. Remember, we’re all former students and trapped here until someone exposes the real agenda behind the school, you’re the chosen one, the one who went into the light without hesitation, fearless, and got to come back.

The sparkle from Life’s eyes disappeared as she came back to reality gasping for breath as the pain was real now; it ripped through her, but she was still in one piece. I knew I was a past life Irish, but a former student of Lost Children is a stretch too far even for my imagination.

WHAT’S GOING ON HERE? BREAK IT UP. A foghorn wouldn’t have been louder. Milla sighed. Finally, help has arrived.

But it wasn’t a teacher coming to her aid; instead, a girl, dressed in a