Today is Thursday afternoon, and me and Phoebe are polishing off some overdue homework and finishing and revising our speeches. Phoebe's one is really simple, and you wouldn't think of how simple before I read it out to you. 

PHOEBE'S SPEECH

Hi, I'm Phoebe because I am. And I would like to go for Prefect because I can. I would make a good Prefect because I can be. And also, don't vote for me because you shouldn't. Thank you for listening, morons. Especially to Summer and Audrey, who are total idiots.

So yeah, Phoebe is doubling over laughing on the sofa, kicking and smacking herself on the thigh. I've told her a million times that the last bit's gonna get her in trouble, and I actually understand it all because she read it to me and I played it back in Spanish. Too bad for her, I feel like that last part for calling people out. But maybe, just maybe, she will back down as the dull girl she is in front of people. 

Anyway, my speech is one page long, and I'm crossing my fingers and toes that I'll get the position. Phoebe and I have just finished our homework, and I decide to make a little snack. I'm great at cooking... deconstructed, demented stuff. 

I go off to the kitchen and look inside the cabinet and fridge to see what we have for some dessert. There's McVities Digestives biscuits, a party size bag of chilli chips, cooled lamingtons, white chocolate and raspberry Connoisseur ice cream, a 20-pack Mars and Snickers and a bunch of canned fruit, real fruit, all the usual healthy stuff Mamma makes me eat. I didn't want to eat it today, though. 

I take out the all the junk (except the chips) and lay them on the kitchen bench. Taking two bowls from a cabinet and two spoons, I spoon two large scoops of ice cream into them and crush sweet biscuits into crumbly big and small pieces on a chopping board. I pour them equally into the ice cream and cut thick slices of lamington into each. Then, I rinse the chopping board, dry it and put it away, then set the bowls on a silver platter. 

I exit the kitchen with the professional air of a waiter, hand behind my back, one hand flat to carry the tray, and serve Phoebe, who has imaginary stars in her eyes. She grabs a bowl and shoveled a spoon of crumbs, lamington and ice cream into her mouth. 

"It's amazing," she moans, as I place the tray on the wooden coffee table in front of us and take a bowl. I've barely swallowed the first magnificent bite when Audrey and Summer walk into the room, bringing the stench of chlorine in. Their stringy hair is darkened and wet, and towels are wrapped around their bodies. Goggles dangle from their necks.

They are headed to the bathroom, and splattering against the floorboards are big drops of water. Both of them walk onto the rug, which is struggling to absorb the liquid. 

"What's that?" Audrey asks carelessly, looking at my bowl. "A cooking disaster?" She rams into me, drenching my pajamas and knocking the bowl of dessert to the floor. The scoops of ice cream melt on the rug, along with pieces of coconut, chocolate and crumbs. Summer laughs half-heartedly. Audrey snatches the other bowl from Phoebe and tosses the spoon over her head, and it smacks me in the face. 

"Oww!" I wince. I'm cold and wet, from Audrey standing over me, shaking from the sudden spike of pain in my forehead. I stagger to the bedrooms, where my suitcase and closet is. Pulling the curtains closed on my quarter of the room, I strip myself down to my underclothes (which aren't wet) and slide on some new pajamas. I walk back into the room, where Phoebe is yelling like crazy at Audrey.

"You could have seriously hurt her!" Phoebe screams. 

"Oh, yeah, right. You sound like a stupid teacher," she scoffs. 

Some attendant or someone pokes her head around the door to the living room and scolds, "You are supposed to be getting ready for bed, you've had your dinner, instead of making a racket!" She exits the room and Phoebe and Audrey are breathing really heavily. 

After I've taken a shower and brushed my teeth, I help Phoebe clean up the mess Audrey made. We lie in our beds under the warm covers in silence. I can hear that smug smile from several curtains away. Even though we are comfortable, my dreams are nothing of the sort.

I'm in a dark forest. I vaguely remember what's happening. Three guys clad in leather armour wielding swords are chasing me. I'm terrified, only armed with a dagger. I descend into a valley full of shadows, making it ten metres before I'm screaming. A long, high scream that never breaks for breath. The shadows are chasing me, again, towards a different section of the forest. That's where the hunters are. 

I don't care. My feet fly lightly across the ground, afterpain still lingering in my body. Pangs of shock are worming their way into my mind, tearing into the only sanity I have left. A wrecking ball is swinging in my head. It hurts. It hurts. 

Then I'm writhing on the ground as the shadows overtake me in an endless pool of black. Agony is piercing me everywhere, like a thousand sharp knives made of diamond are cutting into me. Trees collapse, trapping me there. I'm sobbing, the hunters are here and it feels like they are rubbing salt into my cuts. It stings. It stings.

Pleading now, I'm waiting for the death blow. The black shadows are wrapping me in a cold blanket, twisting over my body. One of the men raises a long curved sword, and stabs it into me. I'm screaming as blood is splattering everywhere. The blade has impaled me through. As I take my final breath, my eyes rest on something I'm clutching in my hand. It's a creased photo of me, Mamma and Papa. I see nothing, think nothing, know nothing.

I gasp as I fling my arms out wide, kicking my legs so the blanket folds messily away, like the tide retreating into the sea. Audrey and the others are probably eating breakfast at the dining hall. I check the clock and realise breakfast has just started.

Changing into my school uniform quickly, I'm staggering around pulling my cobalt blue blazer over my head, then exiting the door and taking the lift up to the dining hall. My hair is still unbrushed and tied up in a messy ponytail. I haven't brushed my teeth, but most students do it after breakfast. 

Once I'm seated in a chair next to Phoebe, my jam toast in front of my on a plate, I cut the crusts of the sides and pick up the sandwich. Today is the day. The speeches will be read, and I'm buzzing with excitement. In the front of my mind, my brain is thinking about the more pressing matter - my nightmares. I shiver and bite into the raspberry flavoured bread. 

"Anyway," Phoebe starts, speaking through a mouthful of cereal and milk, "I'm having second thoughts about saying the speech I wrote." Of course she is. She might be fierce in front of me, and a good friends, but outside she's shy and a victim for abusers. "But I'm doing it anyway," she continues. I stare at her in surprised, my eyebrows raised. 

Then suddenly on the bowl of cereal, a blur of a hand sharply knocks it off the table an into Phoebe's lap. The creases on her skirt suddenly flood with milk. "Oh, great," she mutters. Audrey is standing a few feet away from us, with Tarini this time.

"Wasn't me," she smirks. I look towards the head table angrily. Where the teachers are having breakfast, one of them turns a hawk eye towards us, but again, like at the basketball court, Audrey starts acting. She backs slowly into the seat directly behind us, which aren't pushed in, and starts talking with Tarini about the latest fashion or something. 

The teacher looks away, and Phoebe's cheeks are blushing as everybody stares at her and Audrey. I'm bursting with anger, but instead of smacking Audrey and her gang in the face like they deserve, I pass a long bit of paper towel. 

Once we're finished, we've still got thirty minutes left before school starts, so Phoebe rinses her body free of milk and changes. I brush through my hair and tie it in a long Dutch braided whip down my back. We fold our speeches into our pockets and go out to face the unfair world. 

Oh, the glory of laughter when Phoebe reads out the speech she wrote stupidly. Everybody's filling the room with cries and screeches and snorts and giggling. Then Audrey reads her speech, and it was pretty good, something about turning the school's learning program into a more fun opportunity for education by adding sport, art and other fun events. Then she reads the second part of the speech... my speech.

Oh my god. What has happened here? She's really stolen my speech. To think of it, I remember not seeing my paper on my desk last night, and a turquoise piece of paper on Audrey's instead. I'd thought that maybe it was hers, but no. 

As she finishes, it's my turn to go up. And I can't. I'm frozen. Everybody's clapping, not for me, but Audrey. All the clever statements I spent hours thinking up, the punchlines and jokes, the long smart words I'd translated into English and practiced saying, it's all gone.