I'm not a very detailed person, however, I'm blunt, very obvious -- but sophisticated -- and always a mystery. I say what I want to say to who I want to say it to and don't really care whether they want to hear what I have to say to them or not. I get along with life in my small town as well as any gi-no scratch that, lady (I'm not five anymore) can get along as I live strong and smart and beautiful. I am blessed with long, flowing, beautiful, gorgeous bleach-blonde hair, a tiny behind, a body of a Goddess, and-

"Katherine! Katherine Vilowsky!" screeched my nightmare of the school day as her all loyal spear of death came smashing upon my doodles and limbo illustrations with its cracked centimeter measurements and dried up wood fibers. "Miss Katherine Vilowsky! Are you listening?"

I jumped from the whip like sound of her make-shift teacher to student disciplinary weapon meeting my poor and abused, humble notebook of zoned out scholarly like a cat that has had a bucket of water dumped upon it. No not a sprits of water, not a cup of water, no, my dear readers. A bucket. A bucket of pure H2O. I am left in awe that my desk had not shattered from the shock of my jump.

With a deep breath in and a choke on the onion-anchovy sandwich breath I mistakably breathed in, I forced a composed, gentile smile to face my frog resembled captor. I could deeply swear that someone, high above the ceilings and gray clouds above our heads, has had it out for me. I wouldn't be surprised to have some mysterious fallen angel come up to me and tell me that I had died after committing some miserably, unimaginable crime that stands without any found consequence. And then get along to tell me that, for the makeup of the still to be found consequence, the Heavens' Lord, Master of All, has decided me to live my pathetic, pitiful first period of everyday of my junior year as the 'beloved' student of a frog creature. Whatever I must've done, however bad, I guess I must give props to the Sir of Sirs, for how he came to create a creature such as this to serve as the giver of death after death was a brilliant disciplinary idea. I sure have learned my lesson; every day I learn my lesson.

"Yes, ," I gasped, struggling to breathe. I swore she ate out of the trash just to 'unintentionally' suffocate her students. And, yes, I said the trash. For whom, in their right minds, would eat an onion and ANCHOVY sandwich? Either you're of the Devil or drunk. Flat line and period.

"Would you care to stand and explain to the class the correct answer to the question I have just previously cared to ask?" Her witchy, croaky voice was slick with sarcasm. She knew I wasn't paying attention; she only wanted to prove a point on why it was important to pay attention.

I looked out to all my drowsy and bored, but suddenly alert, peers. The farm boys and gals, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the emos, the socially awkward, they all stared at me awaiting an answer I didn't realize I had on the tip of my tongue. My eyes met every single pair in the midst of the smidge sized moment I had. All the browns and blues and undefined hazels and greens, I met them all. Every single pair of eyes I just was left hoping, just wishing, to find help or at least the question in. Or even, maybe, possibly, a tiny bit of encouragement would help!

Though, alas, as hard as I had searched I was still left with the same old thing. I had found nothing. Yep. Just a big barrel of zip, desolate nothing. No answer, no help, no question and what else? Yep ! You guessed it! No stinking encouragement. Revealed by the lonely halls I walked and alley's and streets, it was also shown by their eyes. If it wasn't for Ms. Swann, none of them would even realize I had a name.

Question.

Question.

Question…..

QUESTION!!

Oh yes, it's official, I suck at school. Now all I wish was that I was back in my boss' office with Snivels and Cake. Maybe even Blanket! All curled up near the hot heater, watching the winter snow fall outside the window. Alas, one could only wish though.

Lips quivering, struggling for an answer, I turned to face the wrinkled and beady eyed fearfully. I was already walking the tight rope of nerd-dom. One wrong slip up and I'd fall to eternal damnation of class dork.

However, staring at those thin, long, dripping lips and that carelessly placed, fake ugly mark, I embarked on a revelation. Well either a history renowned thought or the Frog's breath was causing me Jaundice Disease.

Well, my thought carries out that if I don't answer correctly, my fellow peers are handed the right to condemn me to the sticky and slurry table in the back of the lunch room with all the other sad, and pathetic bodies labeled by mistake. They can strip me of my single and final band of popularity and for the rest of my junior and leading on senior year leave me for their rath. I'd be their punching bag to curse and make fun of. Though the students here will never hit a girl, it's seen as curse to hit a female, the physical presentation of wounding doesn't cover social and mental abuse. I'm left to take it and have no one to shield me. No one there to help me. No one.

Oh GOD! And no one to ask me to prom! And JUST when Tyler Johnson was finally giving me the eyes after I've had a crush on him since second grade!

However, there goes to show the other hand of this balancing act.

If I get the answer right, I'm still going to be crucified to the nerds! I might as well slip on the ol' loafers and suspenders. Maybe I'll even start caring around my inhaler! My asthma isn't too bad, like I haven't used it since first grade, but who knows! Maybe it'll just add to the act! Hey, if anything, I could be the tree dork for the drama team. Their always rooting for nerds wanting to wear the scenery costumes!

Then again, if you really dig deep, this is all 's fault. She put me to the spot and she's ugly, short and stout, and hardly understandable enough that none of her students get a word out of her lesson much less care. It's her fault I hate school, the rest of my teachers aren't so bad. If she wasn't so boring, then maybe I'd actually care enough to know the question she wants an answer to! Huh! See you stuck up people of the world! If you are actually nice to people! Things happen!

Unfortunately, I can't change the past. And just wanted to see me cry.

I stood there, all alone with a beady eyed, frog creature staring at me smugly. The dragons of the school eyed me from the back with their fiery blonde hair and 'perfect' bodies like I was something to pick at. The peasants boredly waited to witness the climax of this usual fairy tale they've witnessed hundreds of times. The slaves with big brains secretly smiled behind their oversized glasses, awaiting my arrival to their table. The brave knights in shining armor nowhere to be seen. Oh I wished they had clocks in the medieval times! The Hero was always too late no matter what Hollywood says. There is no happily ever after for reality girls. At least, there's no happily ever after for this reality girl.

"Uhm….Well…You see," I struggled to find the answer or at least something witty to say. I searched through my oversized vocabulary and infinite creative mind. I rummaged through old ideas and theories to the shadows of my nightmares. When all I could remember was what I had for breakfast this morning, half a pop tart and fresh milk from the Adams' Milk Farm (if anyone was wondering), I gave up. But then, miraculously, something managed to fall out of my mouth.

"What did you say?" the suddenly taken aback Ms. Swann questioned. I stepped out of my body, metaphorically, and stared at myself while standing by her and the classes side, wondering the exact same thing.

Again the words tumbled out of my mouth. Instead of staring and pondering as she did a moment ago, she tapped my shoulder with her fearsome weapon of death and measurements.

"Explain," She ordered.

My body, finally realizing what it was saying, shook my head. "Never mind."

"That wasn't a question, Miss Katherine Vilowsky."

My eyes fell shut to face that terrible sting of words. Not a question? That only meant one thing.

"Stand up, Miss Vilowsky."

When I thought had found the final level, she surprises me by finding level zero.

Reluctantly, I stood, gulping back my fear of the nerds table. had already condemned me. I might as well get this over with and face the furry with my dignity.

"Alexander Oprin, a well known, Russian scientist of the thirty's suggested that all life, including humans, descend from a complex singular species of the submicroscopic form," I could already feel the lonelier, colder invisible barriers of nerdsville make their decent upon me through the eyes of the students around me. All of a sudden, I wondered why I didn't just shut up and earn a detention. That'd leave me possibly some salient right to my single sash of popularity. "Otherwise known…" Might as well finish what I started though. "Otherwise known as…"

A freezing electric shock ran through my shoulder and straight to my heart like lightning on a cold, winter's night. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before as a sudden firmness became on the target. Faintly I wondered, as I stared frozen, mouth gaped, in place awaiting an aftershock, if I had spontaneously been struck by real lightning. My breath not yet returned, maybe my sentence had finally finished! Goodbye ! Hello-oh great, hello hell.

"Bacteria, otherwise known as bacteria," a loose, harmonic voice came from beside me. It was sweet and full of laughter, however husky enough to reveal that everything wasn't always as it seemed. There was something scary, something dark behind the tones. Like some deep, shadowed secret you'd have to be killed to know. Though, I knew the voice. I never heard the voice before, but the strings on my heart, they were being pulled on. No not pulled necessarily, more like yanked! The familiar voice freed me from my chained, frozen state as a breath flooded my face to shock my lungs. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one searching to know our beginning."

I turned to melt into beautiful emerald eyes against a perfect, early morning snow canvas and well chiseled cherry stained, diamond cut lips. Though my explanation short, I can say one thing:

If I could choose to die anyway, anytime, I would choose to die right then, right there melting into the eyes of that fallen angel as his silly words about bacteria and evolution and knowledge of how life began echoed into the end of my existence.

"And who are you?" hissed like a reeling viper. I faintly had the urge to jump right in front of her bite, as if I'd do anything for this stranger. Even put my life down for him.

"My name?" he snidely replied.

Huffing, unused to be back talked, placed her hands on her hips as she repeated herself, "Yes, your name, boy."

"Me?" he looked about himself to purposely clear the fact that we were in the front row where, in fact, all girls sat. "Not him?" he gestured with his free hand to the boy who sat to my right.

Most students mouths dropped, the poor indicated boy looked in shock from the pointed finger at him to . Probably to be sure she didn't think this charade was his fault.

On the contrary, Ms. Swann was automatically fuming, her face burning with beet red fury and anger. I was surprised to find her ears weren't steaming like in the cartoons.

"No," she was biting her tongue. She was seriously, literally biting her tongue! "Your name, boy. Your name."

"Me? Or-"

"For crying out loud! Give me your bloody name boy or get out of me class room!" Ouch, this kid had her going so bad, she's exploded! Even her British accent was back! Oh the agony of a deranged teacher finally getting a taste of her own medicine she's been dishing out for years.

Well, as I glanced back to see that smug "I'm-getting-the-reaction-I-wanted-" look, I forcefully slaughtered my memory of that one little word.

Not kid.

Fallen Angel

"Oh!" he released me (unfortunately) as fake realization dawned on him. "My name! That's what the whole fuss is about? Silly ol' me? Goodness, lady, quite the temper for such a question upon a simple, humble knight as me!"

Ms. Swann ground her teeth. I just could guess all the words and curses she was tossing at this boy through her eyes. Luckily, she wasn't Superwoman with laser vision.

"I'm Tyrell Johnson," with a flourishing sweep of a bow, his nose practically to the ground; I realized I wasn't the only girl the room who had eyes for the boy. There were half a dozen sighs from the females and an equalizing amount of humph's from the males from the big show. My Fallen Angel was going to be needed to be watched closely. Very, very-

Scratch that!

What in the world am I saying? What in the world is coming out of my mouth? Me protect god such as he? Me? The closest to class dorkulah girl of the junior year? Oh yah, the closest thing I have to shielding this hot chili pepper was my chewed up pencil and limbo illustrations. I just knew the moment that bell rung and she had the chance, Miss Eve Chances of the town famous Chance family who run the Chance Bank, was going to target, stalk and nail before second hour even had a chance to begin. He was already hers, I knew it. Somebody like me, no matter the sudden urge growing rapidly inside me at every look, could ever stand against her. She was Miss Popular. Miss Beautiful. And behind her daddy's back, Miss Town Slut who has taken every boy she's ever had the slightest liking into the shadows where they return broken hearted. She was half Latina, half hooch mama and no guy stood a chance…..

But, wait, wait, wait! AGAIN! What am I saying?

I hardly know this guy! I just barely heard his name! What interest could he have in me? And why in the world would I have any interest in him? Yes, he's hot, I'll admit even smoking sexy when you skim all the way down to his toes and find his tight shirt baring his sturdy, possibly rock hard abs down his baggy but still rocking my world jeans to even those tight air walk sneakers and then back up to those rock har-SHUT UP! Now is NOT the time to be earning those female hormones!

I don't know him! No good personality! No go! Repeat! No good personality, no go! No good personality, no go! No personality, no go! No personality, no go! Rinse, recycle, repeat and-

Well he does have a personality, does it matter if it's good with those abs?

Lost in thought, I pretty much almost missed that recurring electric shock when my trembling fingers were taken and, yes dear readers, kissed, by my- THE Fallen Angel.

"But you can call me, Angel," he said just barely above a whisper however, every female ear caught it as well as the fact he was looking at me and into my eyes when he spoke.

"But you can call me, Angel…"

"But you can call me, Angel…."

"You…Calll ME…..Angel…"

Fallen Angel?

You?

Me??

Call me?

Call him?

"But you can call me Angel…"

Translation: "Katherine, call me your Fallen Angel"

He did not just say that!

Did he?

"Or maybe we can call you Dee!" snarled Ms. Swann as she ruined practically the best thing in my life EVER to happen to me along with my good mornings, sense of confidence, and attention span. "As in: DETENTION!"

Pre-signed and dated with just a moment for a scribbled on name, Ms. Swann issued Tyrell (AKA My Personal Fallen Angel) a detention slip for that afternoon. Huh. Reminds me on how my first day went…..

Tyler Johnson smiled broadly as he snagged the white slip of paper from Ms. Swann as if she had handed him a hundred bucks. Most of the class questioned his sanity and his ability to read what was on the tiny sheet, aka contract for your soul.

"Thank you, Ms. Swann," he mused. "I hope we'll be able to do this more often."

With obvious horrible thoughts on what she'll do to him when she received him for detention this afternoon, Ms. Swann smiled with a greasy grin, "Yes, me too," as she made her way back to the front.

For a long moment, I stood there, deep within the safety of mind. I rethought about what had just happened, how it had occurred and whether or not there was an apocalypse soon to come for something like this never was to happen. No one EVER back talked Ms. Swann or tempted her to that sort of like. Though she hated being the fool and becoming boiling mad, she loved her position as a teacher. No, not for the liking of kids, she detested them, but for the beating of kids. Well, mental, she'd get sent to jail if she was physical, but mental was all hers. Yes, she was all about the beating of kids mentality. She proved herself every morning and in every detention she ever handed out.

I begged the heavens, this Tyler, my Fallen Angel, would face the good glories.

I prayed Ms. Swann would spontaneously combust right then, right there.

"Is there a problem Miss Vilowsky?" questioned the intolerable Ms. Swann.

I shook my head, "No, I-I don't think so. I-"

"Then take your seat, Miss Vilowsky! This instant!"

Practically animatronicaly, my knees buckled and I found myself tumbling, though not toward my seat. No, no, dear readers, not near my seat at all. Right upon the floor my butt went! Crack! Splat! Kibosh! And the uproar of laughter rang through the room like a siren to a fire! Call in the wonder dogs! Katherine has made a fall!

My face flushed hotter than the sun and I hadn't a clue what to do now to redeem myself from this floozy of a mess. So, I catered to the usual: kept my eyes on the floor, watched my feet, took my seat, and buried my face in my windblown blonde curls. Could this day get any worse?!

That's when I heard the rustle of clothing behind me, someone's butt hitting the floor, and the laughter ceasing before the loudest, most confident chuckle hollered the heavens'.

I chanced my reputation to look behind me at the empty seat that always has been, and to my surprise, always won't be.

On the floor, giggling his head off with the farthest upturn chin I've ever seen in my life, was none of then Fallen Angel. My Fallen Angel.

"Oh my god," he cried, fake wiping a tear from his eye as he sat up and simply sat on the floor. "You're hilarious, babe!" He stated almost proudly to me.

Wait, to me? To ME? Oh thank you heavens'! Could this day get any better! Now the entire school's going to know even the new, sexy kid thinks I'm a dork!

I turned to bury my face in the folds of my jacket. I may not be allowed to have a hood on, but no one said anything about the jacket itself!

"I mean! Wow!" He continued. I attempted to ignore it. "Who would be brave enough to literally obey a teacher like that? Who? By raise of hands?" I sank lower in my seat.

"I give you props, sweet heart!"

That's when my heart stopped.

"You've got guts! I like that!" he carried on from the seat of the school carpet. "You just turned that old hag into a laughing stock! Now I don't think anyone's going to have any problems with that croaking frog!"

And just when it was getting good at the props part, he HAD to get me in trouble.

I heard the ripping of a familiar piece of paper.

Then heard the Fate casting words, "For defying authority, Miss Vilowsky." I heard. "You'll be joining my detention period after school ."

That kid was lucky I had confidence issues and darn well lucky he's hot!