Kankri pushed himself upward as the alarm rang in his ears. Groggily, he reached over to the bedside table, turning off the annoying alarm. With a sigh, he got out of bed and made his way to the closet on the opposite side of the room. He grabbed a sweater and a pair of pants from said closet, and once dressed, he turned to his reflection in the mirror.

No, it was wrong. This was not right, this was not him, this was not his own reflection looking back at him, it simply couldn't be.

This reflection, his reflection, was lacking horns, the nubby, orange horns he knew should be there, but weren't. His reflection's skin was colored incorrectly; it should be gray, not the peachy-white color it appeared to be. His eyes, his eyes were not as they should be. Blue, why were they blue? No, no, no – that portion should be red, and the rest should be a color similar to the horns that should be protruding from his skull, but weren't.

Even after all these years – sixteen of them, to be exact – his appearance shocked him. When he had addressed this issue, whether it be to his family or friends, or the countless guidance counselors or mental professionals his family had sent him to over the years, not a single soul ever believed him. Many of them had simply said it was his imagination, that he never had horns and gray skin and that he never would have horns and skin of such a color. It was impossible, completely impossible. He never listened to them and still to this day he tried convincing them otherwise.

In his dreams, his appearance was as it should be; skin and eyes were the correct color, his horns were visible in their rightful places. And there were others like him, too, though he could never quite remember their names once he awoke. However, he remembered nearly everything else about these beings in his dreams. He knew that there were eleven of them - six females, five other males. He knew they were relatively the same age as himself, knew they all had their unique styles and personalities. And he knew they were all very good friends. Yes, at times they'd bicker amongst each other in his dreams, but, in the end, they were all friends.

So why was he failing to remember their names now, in his waking state? Why was he having these dreams? And were they really just silly dreams, like everyone told him, or were they memories like he believed them to be? Where were these eleven other individuals? Were they human as he was now? Were they having the same experiences as him? Did they remember him like he remembered them?

Kankri shook his head, vanishing these thoughts from his mind. With one final glance at his reflection, he headed downstairs to the first floor of his home to finish getting ready for his school day.

That afternoon, as usual, Kankri walked home from school alone. Seeing as his parents were already home, he pushed open the unlocked door and made his way to the kitchen. He was greeted by two serious-faced adults and, without a word, he took a seat in the extra chair at the kitchen table. Various papers, forms, and documents covered the wooden surface, but before Kankri could question them, his father spoke.

"You'll be transferring schools next week," Mr. Vantas informed him.

Kankri was shocked speechless. He was transferring? "Why?" he asked, "Are we moving?"

"No," his mother replied, "but your new school has dormitories, and you will be staying in one."

And then Kankri realized something – maybe he had been accepted into one of the many prestigious schools he had such an interest in! He had written many applications to a number of schools just about a week or two ago. How could he forget about such a thing? Quickly, he skimmed the words on the papers that were scattered about, but they all had the same title to them – St. Natalia's School for Mentally Ill Youth.

"E-excuse me? A school for the mentally ill? I cannot go to a school for the me—"

He was silenced with a stern glance from his father partnered with the words, "I suggest you start packing within the next few days."

Two days later, Kankri was in his room, packing away his vast variety of books, clothes, and miscellaneous items he thought he may need in his dorm. He still found it rather difficult to believe that he was transferring schools on such short notice, and a school for the mentally ill at that. He had never even heard of a St. Natalia's School for Mentally Ill Youth, and his online searching hadn't brought up anything. Rather, he had gotten information on a St. Natalia, who as far as he could tell had no connection to this school. With his own researching proving fruitless, he had read through the informational packets and brochures that his parents had received when they had registered him with the school. One thing still puzzled him, though – How had his parents learned of this school? He couldn't find it anywhere online or in books. It wasn't even in Britain; the school itself was situated in a town called Oymyakon, located in Siberia. This, at least, provided Kankri with something to research. With this information, he had found out some important things about the town he'd be spending several months in; for starters, it was the coldest town on the planet that was still inhabited by people; it had a population of about 480; and sometimes, the town only received three hours of daylight. Upon learning this, Kankri was not in the best of moods. He had no desire to be in such a place. Why would anyone even put a school in a place like that? No matter how much he loathed the idea, he could not get out of it. By this point, he was nearly packed, and according to the information the school had provided him with, there was already a dorm waiting for him. At the very least, he did not have a roommate's idiocy to deal with…

The ride to the airport seemed like it went on for eternity, when in reality, the Vantas family only lived about two hours outside of London. Kankri sat in the backseat in agitated silence. He avoided looking at either one of his parents, even when his mother insisted that he'd be fine and he'd probably enjoy the school and he'd hopefully make some friends, but he simply ignored her soothing tone, keeping his eyes focused on the passing scenery. When his father pulled into the airport's parking lot, Kankri's heart plummeted. He took his time unbuckling and stepping out of the car, and he fumbled around with his bags in the trunk. His hands felt numb and his legs were weak, but he grabbed the two suitcases and tossed the strap of the carry-on bag over his shoulder. As they walked through the crowds of the airport, Kankri avoided eye contact with nearly everyone who passed him, and he kept his head down in silence until he finally reached the waiting area for his plane. Looking around, he was unsurprised by the amount of people he found waiting with them; his first flight was only going as far as Moscow, and then he'd board another plane that'd drop him off in another town about two or three hours out of Oymyakon. From there, he'd be picked up by an employee from the school.

As he waited, Kankri tried thinking of a way to get out of this, to get out of going to a school that he really should not be attending. No matter what he thought of, he knew there was no way to avoid this. It was inevitable now, and he was regretting ever telling his family about his dreams – no, his memories – of being an entirely different being.

Eventually, he heard the lady on the intercom announce that those on flight number 413 should board the plane now. Clutching his ticket, Kankri boarded the plane with a sinking feeling.

Author's Notes: This story won't really pick up until chapter 13, if I do as I have planned. Which is, writing one chapter for each of the Alpha trolls.

*Oymyakon is a real place, that info was taken from its Wiki.

*And my headcanon humanstuck Kankri is British.

*St. Natalia = legit saint, and she seriously has absolutely nothing to do with this school

*Also the school is obviously made up

*and sorry about my last fanfic died, sorry folks