A/N: Hopefully I won't stop in the middle with this one!!! (panicks) I just felt that I had to transfer my ideas into writings, or otherwise my brain was gonna burst… please be nice!!(gulps)
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT AND THE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF THIS FANFIC.
As always, it's totally random. OptimusOC. Enjoy.
A year had passed since the battle at the Mission City. The scar of the battle had been healed, despite the loss of their comrade, Jazz, and everyone had settled down into what could be basically called a 'life'. For Sam and Mikaela, a new school year was about to begin. The entire school was buzzing with energy as they walked through the corridor. They could see familiar faces and some new faces, tense and yet excited. They could see Miles, the same old Miles, waving at them. They waved back to him. They also spotted Trent DeMarco, the school jock who was a typical Mr. Popular, and at the same time, a bully who terrorized people solely for his enjoyment. Jeeringly strutting around the corridor, he was scaring some newcomers and lower-grades.
"What a jerk," said Mikaela, disgusted, scowling at Trent harassing a group of juniors, until they scattered away and a teacher appeared with a crossed look on his face.
"Yeah. A year's passed and hardly anything's changed," Sam snorted, crossing the corridor to enter their new classroom.
The classroom was half-filled with students. Some they recognized; some they did not. Among the faces they haven't seen before, there was a girl. She sat alone in the corner, gazing into a book. She did not look like she would welcome someone else's presence other than her own. The air around her seemed black and bleak for some reason. Anyhow, nobody seemed to be too keen to greet her. Her expression was clueless; it was not that she looked idiotic, but her face was an absolutely perfect poker-face, and it was barely visible from inky dyed hair falling all over it. She didn't look so special, but rather like a common gothic teenager.
"Do you think it's gonna be a great year this year?" Mikaela asked, settling down on a chair. Sam sat down next to her.
"May be. I don' think it'll be too dismal." Said Sam. Mikaela laughed and kissed him on the cheek.
The roll was called. Their new teacher, Mr. Kendall, introduced himself and mused on about being a 12th former and the importance of doing well academically, putting in a lot of effort, etc, etc. It was difficult for the students to suppress their yawning, but finally it was over and each student had a chance to introduce oneself to the class. Light-hearted clapping and sometimes, immature wolf-whistles were heard. After a boy with a short reddish hair sat down, it was the gothic girl's turn. She didn't stand up immediately, even as the whole class was anticipating her. Slowly, like a doll whose spring was too loose to get up quickly enough, she pushed the chair behind her and straightened her legs.
She was quite tall, now they could see it. She stood for about 5 ft 9 inches, with lean arms and legs. She wore a pair of tight jeans, which was tattered around her ankles, and a top so long that it came down to the middle of her thigh. The sleeves covered her hands. To no one's surprise, everything she was wearing was black, black, black. Even her worn sneakers were black. Her mid-back-long hair was dyed black, and hung straight down. They would have thought she had used a jarful of hair wax, seeing the way not a single hair shot out of row. Her face was translucently pale, as if she had bathed in moonlight. Her feline eyes, revealed only very slightly between all that raven hair, were also black, probably the effect of wearing colored contact lenses. Her eyes looked sleepy, bored, or just plainly uninterested. She blinked twice, then opened her thin lips to speak.
"The name's Misery," she glanced towards Mr. Kendall's desk absently, and he flinched, "not that stupid name written on the roll. Just to make it clear." Then she sat down, resumed reading the book. They only then realized that she hadn't been listening to the peers at all, but was simply reading the whole time. The stunned, awkward silence drifted away after few moments, but there still was an icy, thin layer of it left on the classroom.
"Oh, alright… Er… so you'd prefer to be called… 'Misery', yes?" said Mr. Kendall, slightly overawed by her. She nodded, not getting her eyes off the book. He sighed, and muttering quietly to himself, scribbled something into the roll book.
"Wow. Talk about the fancy attitude." Murmured Mikaela, then turned to her boyfriend, "Do you still think it won't be too dismal?"
"On the second thought," said Sam, "May be it will be." He gulped overactingly, and Mikaela laughed.
A/N continued: Yep. The story's started. You'll leave a review, won't you? (eyes glitter)
