• The quite disturbing ringing of the students ears was probably not their ears at all but, in fact, the marking of their daily routine and, in fact, social planner of their entire exasperating school year filled with Monday morning moans. The current day was known among those superstitious as the Day of Yellow, and those believing that yellow would bring luck to this day still continue to wear it but the name was just adapted into the vocabulary to make the calendar system in Autumn easier. In the Alternate world, this day would be referred to as Wednesday, known universally as a turning point in all weekly affairs.

    As the students bustled about, almost as mindless as zombies at times and yet creating enough noise to shake the entire building, a bundle of black sat sagging on a sleek wooden bench. All the chattering ran out like bird song, all the while the pair of gloomy blue eyes watched as each young and careless figures walked by her without as much of a glance in her direction. She sighed miserably, not so much caring about the lack of attention, but at the fact that she hadn’t finished an important part of her game before the bell rang. Sure, the matter of companionship bothered her about ever hour of the day, but it wasn’t her current concern. She glanced warily at the clock before compiling an indignant and unattractive snort and smacking her little handheld gaming device closed, jamming in in her pocket where it rested comfortably but definitely not without notice. As she tumbled out of the bench, letting her floppy running shoes land on the cold stone tiles with a satisfying slap, her surprisingly fine features were brought into the blaring light of the huge lights hung high about the main entrance way.

    She had somewhat of a gloomy expression that looked stapled as well as glued to her face and her bright blue eyes didn’t seem to match her face and stood out like yellow on black every time a glimmer of light hit them just right. Her nose was small but stood on it’s own somehow holding some character in the way it turned slightly upward, while warding off the army of freckles that attacked her upper cheeks and between her eyes. Her face was not all unattractive, but you would think it to be the way she usually hid her features behind a curtain of long, thick brown hair, untainted at all with dye. She was a scruffy, slightly tall, creature who wore baggy men’s shirts and pants that in no way complimented her. She was a sad sight, but not an uncommon one, and she and her signature messenger bag, bearing a logo of her favourite gaming design company, were infamous among the school because she was a strange sort of person and ridiculously glum.

    She scuffled along, ignoring the amused glances in her direction but keeping her ears poised for any comments related to her. For some reason it was very important to her to hear them, even though she would more than likely use them against herself in the end. Her mind was a void of personal insults and doubt but also a mistrust that kept her to herself. Not only that, but she was fairly new to the school and already she had a firm reputation of being unorthodox.

    Class wasn’t so hard. She could complete her tasks with a minimal effort, just the way she liked it. She, understandingly, loathed being forced to work with other students; she didn’t have a very high regard for them and, as far as the students were concerned, she was an alien. She never expected to ever live much more than how she did now, puttering about with her gaming device jammed in her pocket, just striving to get through school. She didn’t expect to be noticed and pitied by a student who would be determined to befriend her, she didn’t expect to get a suspicious letter in the mail, she didn’t expect to ever see her father again and she especially didn’t expect to be involved in any sort of plot to prevent those with evil intentions from acquiring untold power, but all these would start to happen just after the signal telling fellow students that they were free from the bounds of the classroom.

    The bell shrieked with a startling yelp, a welcome end to a tiring day. She found a familiar spot on the bench she was at earlier; that bench had practically become her own. It was a tradition for her to wait, exercising her thumbs on her gaming device before the school entirely cleared of students and the halls were almost painfully silent. She liked to avoid the crowds and herds of students hurdling for the bus and walking in clusters as well as alone to their homes nearby. As she continued strumming the button of the device she became less and less aware of what was going on around, like the inquisitive and haughty glances of a group of higher-than-thou teenagers, dressed to the tee, their fashions and hairstyles looking as if they were copied straight from a magazine and they all looked like they had about as much imagination as a artist who traced others works of art.

    “That the ‘Game Girl,’ Serri?” One giggled devilishly, her voice dripping with light-hearted enthusiasm and cruelty, “She looks absolutely horrid. She must’ve gotten her clothing from a dumpster.”

    “An eyesore. Someone ought to put a bag over her. It would look better than whatever she’s wearing,” An other laughed, “She must’ve got her styles from ‘Stone Age Fashion Magazine.’” She seemed a little over enthusiastic for a half witted joke, but the others played along as well, laughing away.

    One of them, however, was silent. She was a little plump but still shapely, wallowing in high fashion and an obvious expert in make up styling. The way her eyes were done made it look as if she had no eyes at all, just a mesh of eyelash and her dark brown hair was short and curly enough to shame a coil of ribbon. While the others switched to something ‘more important’ her attention was still on the strange girl whose features hung in the shadow of her hair. A tiny huff escaped her lips, realising she had grown tired of the shameful chattering of these group of girls. She had considered them friends, but because of her weight a new addition of the group was slowly urging the rest of the girls away from her. She decided that it wasn’t worth her time and already her eyes had begun to wander, but nobody seemed to suit her high standards. Everyone had someone of an evil whim.

    “Y’know,” She said, quite out of the blue whilst one of the girls was talking, “She doesn’t look that bad. She’s just lacking in the fashion department, s’all, Besides, no one’s really givin her a chance.” Her voice was always held in high attitude and quivered like a child’s pout, not with fear but with a succession of trying to imitate the vocal patterns of a hip singer.

    The ‘new addition,’ Serina who wasn’t so new anymore, looked somewhat shocked and appalled that someone had actually disagreed with her. She was a the one who made the Stone Age Magazine comment. Her face swivelled into an irritated pout and she held her mouth slightly opened for a second, preparing her next comment, “W-ell, then maybe she’s the perfect friend for you. Seeing as you also lack in that area.”

    The plump figure’s almost hidden eyes widened; she had never out rightly insulted her before. It had always been behind her back. She glared at Serina, her eyebrows wrinkling into a painful frown. She opened her mouth to retort harshly but she was quickly interrupted.

    “Oh, come on, Serri!” Another girl said, a small frown dangling not very convincingly on her face, “You know that’s not true.”

    Serina lifted her nose into the air, then looked her over, “W-ell, I guess not to some degree.”

    “Y’know what!” The plump figure set her hands firmly on her hips and her face wrinkled into a snarl, “This group was just fine until you crammed your booty in here! No the whole thing has started to rot because of your stench.” Her whole body quivered and shook with anger, “That’s it! This group doesn’t deserve my company!”

    A bitter smile appeared on Serina’s face and curled a finger around her chin, “Well, as far as I’m concerned, the group would be better without you.”

    She swelled with anger, but held her tongue. She knew where this argument would lead. She decided not to give her the pleasure of a response. Despite being deeply wounded somehow, and she pounded herself for it, she managed to calm herself, and turn around and walk steadily away, drowning out the muddled whispers behind. She was so sick of them she could cry. A stabbing pain erupted in her chest; a thorough and painful emotion as she tried to hold back the hate that bit at her tongue.

    The odd girl was deeply involved in her game. Her heart raced. Her palms were sweaty. He blue eyes shifted, transfixed on the screen that lit her face with it’s back light. A sudden sound occurred beside her; startled, she broke away for a second from her game. A girl had slumped irritably beside her, an angry pout slapped her on her face. She flipped her hair back a little to get a closer look at the plump and fashionable girl beside her. The brown eyes of the girl looked at the other, eyebrows raised. Upon being noticed the Gamer Girl reverted her attention to her game, tensing up and making sure her hair curtained her face from the newcomer.

    “Hey,” The plump girl said firmly, “Hey, Game Girl!”

    She tried to direct her attention entirely to her game, but she couldn’t help hearing her and growing even more rigid. She lowered her head in obvious discomfort.

    “Hey, I would call you by name but I don’t know what it is,” She nudged the girls arm. After letting her stay in her little world for a moment before she nudged her shoulder, again “C’mon, I’m tired of being ignored today.”

    Finally she lifted her eyes from her game and looked at the girl with a subtle fear in her eyes. She glanced once at the screen in order to halt her game briefly. Her whole face was an inquisitive and dopey mesh, with a look that could shame a Basset hound.

    “What?” The plump girl frowned, “Can’t you speak?”

    Her lips moved, but for a second she didn’t speak, “I-” She cleared her throat, “I can…”

    “Well good,” She held out a big friendly hand to her, “The names Kat. What’s yours?”

    She hesitated for a moment, staring at her palm and the pattern-like lines formed from the wrinkles of an enclosed palm and the single speckle on her wrist. She looked into her eyes, searching with distrust, then flinched before grasping her hand weakly, “Rhanna.”

    Kat’s big lips formed into a smile and she grasped Rhanna’s hand firmly and shook it, “Nice to meet you Rhanna. Not used to having human contact, huh?”

    Rhanna frowned and shrunk away from her, translating it as an insult.

    “Oh, goodness, sorry about that. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just-”

    “Can you go away please?” Rhanna said sincerely, but not cruelly.

    “Oh, c’mon. You won’t just give me a chance?” Kat’s lips bunched up into a quivering pout.

    Rhanna seemed to consider her words for a moment, then her mind fell back to the bad experiences she had with past friendships and an overwhelming sadness corrupted her heart. She shrunk away again and her eyes fixed back onto her game.

    “C’mon, I’ll buy you a piece of pie or something,” Kat said, softer than she usually spoke.

    “Buy me one?” Rhanna asked, her full attention suddenly torn from her game. Her features brightened considerably.

    “Sure, why not?”

    Rhanna made an expression that almost seemed like a smile. If it was, it was a pathetic smile, but the first one she had managed to make in a while, “Apple?”

    “Whatever you want,” Kat smiled sincerely. This girl was so adorably unsure and innocent it almost made her laugh out loud, but she felt good doing something good for her. Even if it was small.

    “Let’s go then!” Rhanna cried softly, shutting her electronic with a slap and jamming it into her pocket. This was to be the beginning of Rhanna’s first successful friendship.