Perverted Wonderland

The driveway was cold and wet, as her mother drove her into the school parking lot. She was left to walk into the school on her own, despite the rain. She carried a small umbrella. Her mom went to go park, then met up with her in the main hallway. Together, they toured the school. The university was largely quiet, for some illustration and animation lessons were still in session. One of the doors was open, and she met her eyes with a dark brunette hair colored girl. The school uniform was a yellow business casual tee shirt, skin tight blue jeans, and pair of dark brown Birkenstock clogs.

Her mom said she would see her at the end of year. The home room teacher, a young woman just ten years her senior, wearing what seemed more like an exercise suit one would wear at the beach, rather than what a business professional would wear.

– Get your portfolio ready.

Eventually she was shown her room after the school day, where she met up again with the girl she had first met in class. – Are you new here? Our new artist, the main character of this story, simply nodded her head. – I'm sure that I can force words out of you. She said pushing her lips closer to the new artist. – But for now I have an itch that needs scratched.

She the new student took off her yellow tee shirt. – Do you mind scratching my back for me? The new artist was slightly taken aback by this gesture, but was simply glad the hazing rituals was not any more than this. By night time the new artist offered to do a sketch of the girl in the yellow tee shirt. – Do you promise not to show anyone?

– Well I haven't shown anyone my portfolio.

– Oh wow, so you said something finally.

– I often don't have the energy for speech.

It was the next day that the girl in the yellow tee shirt returned the favor, and showed the new artist her portfolio after class. – So how did showing them your portfolio go for acceptance?

– Well to tell you the truth, they seemed surprised.

– Why would that be, your art seems tame.

– Well ... the school is an all girl's school, and they're not exactly what you would call progressive.

It was then that the girl that was her room mate had a smile on her face. – What is that suppose to mean? Our home room teacher is a giant hippie.

– Well sometimes look can be deceiving.

That night the artist had a dream that she was walking through the school gardens at night, floating in the wind. And she would imagine the statues converging n word on her. Until she realized she was looking at her friend's portfolio in her dorm, and trying not to touch herself. Because it was in this drawing that her room mate's sketch was wearing Birkenstock clogs, and it took a knock at a door for her to come back to her senses.

And outside the door, is the teacher.

– Hey, I saw that image in the portfolio.

– Sorry my...

– Don't worry about, we are good here. But I am curious, where did you get that idea from? It is perverted, and yet something that seems like it would be in a Disney film.

– It is part of a style I'm refining.

– What do you call it?

– Disney's Perverted Wonderland.

The artist thought that the teacher would try to ask her to live her home room, but instead things went way more smoothly than she expected. Thanks in no small part, do to an element of unethical teacher behavior. But not something that would normally merit bringing up to the principle. And the rest of the week was a little bit more of a breeze.

She dreamed of haunted gardens.

Gardens of wandering statues.

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