News: South Park Paranormal stuff. Kyle is my favorite fairy. Enjoy!

An yeah, I am an eye freak, bit of a hair freak too.

Enter Stranger/Kyle

"Class we have a new student joining us today, his name is Kyle Broflowski. Would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself Mr. Broflowski?" the teacher, Mrs. Lane, asked, redirecting the last at me. She was a small old woman, the kind you see hobbling around on a cane who seems as though they've collapsed in upon themselves, all their bones pulled tight together and loose skin flapping about. She was entirely mousey, with impossibly brown hair and leather colored skin, although her demeanor was anything but. She seemed like the type who would slap my knuckles with a ruler if I tried anything, this attitude enhanced by the tone her voice had taken.

"No" I answered shortly and quite truthfully. My first day at South Park high was turning out horribly. Everyone in the freshman year had already made alliances, friendships, and feuds. When I spoke to someone they mostly answered in monosyllables and turned to snigger sharply with friends who stared at me in an unfriendly way, inviting no further gestures of friendship. No one spoke to me of his or her own accord.

Amid snickers and a few out right laughs Mrs. Lane glared at me sharply, her mouth set in a way that clearly said do-not-mess-with-me-young-man. "Mr. Broflowski it was clearly not a question. Now please introduce yourself so we may begin class." Her voice was biting and resentful, as though she were used to much more respect.

"I'm very sorry Mrs. Lane, but I clearly heard the questioning lit at the end of your sentence and the 'would you' was a dead giveaway." I said in a sweet voice, giving my most innocent grin. Normally I would never have said anything so disrespectful but I truly didn't want to say anything about myself, most other teachers were satisfied with my no but Mrs. Lane…..

The children in the class looked a bit more then apprehensive and I wondered, slightly too late, if my sarcasm hadn't been an unwise decision. Then she simply ground her teeth, quite forcefully, and grunted painfully through tightened lips "have a seat Mr. Broflowski, so that our lesson might begin." Apparently she was more of an ignore it and it shall not exist type of person then I had pegged her for because she turned away quickly and began to gather her lecture notes.

I glanced around the crowded class room doubtfully. As in my previous classes everyone had already staked their territorial claim on the seating arrangements months ago and had established a pattern, one I, the outsider, was unfamiliar with. My choices were limited; only two seats towards the middle of the room remained unclaimed.

With a groan I tightened my right hand on my shoulder bag and moved toward seat number two, placed between and a friendly looking black headed boy with freckles and a brown hoodie and a brunet boy who was glaring around the room at no one in particular. It was a better choice than the other chair which was surrounded by giggling girls, I had a feeling it was normally occupied by someone and that my intrusion would be met with inconvenient hostility.

The class seemed to drag on forever, much longer than the supposed Hour, I thought with a whine. Glancing at the clock on the wall I groaned it had only been a short while, barely more than thirty minutes. Mrs. Lane had gotten into the topic of her lecture remarkably fast. She was explaining doggedly why all the men Shakespeare used in his plays were effeminate, how exactly this impacted his literary works I was doomed to never know. The phone rang, the sound causing half of the class to jerk up in their seats and glance around quickly, because they had obviously been dozing as Mrs. Lane droned on.

She growled, actually pulled back her lips and snarled at the phone before walking to her desk to answer it. "Yes Ms. Garrison? What is so very important that it caused you to call at this particular instant and interrupt my class while in the midst of a lecture?" She said, her voice positively dripping with charm thick enough to drown in.

"I will be sure to send him right away. But please next time Ms. Garrison? Don't call during my class, even if Mr. Dillons orders you to. My students have the right to an education" Mrs. Lane's voice said after a short pause, her voice no longer sweet but deadly cold and her words hard and sharp.

When she placed the phone back on the cradle she turned back to the class, her face rigid, and she locked eyes with me. "Mr. Broflowski, Mr. Dillons would like to see you in his office, right away. Take your things and come to class with a better attitude tomorrow-young man. Sarcasm will not be tolerated."

Great less then halfway through my first day of school and I was already being called to the principals office. I shoved the pen and notebook I'd been using to doodle into my bag roughly and stood up. As I stood up I heard whispers behind me. Owing to my paranoia about everything, I assumed it was me they were whispering about and listened in.

All I caught were some nonsense snatches of gossip, "yea sixty-eight years…" "Heard they hated each other…" "…Cried and begged…." "…made a moon promise….Kill her….yeah"

I turned and left the room.

The school wasn't big, it didn't even have too many hallways, but I hadn't been to the office yet or even walked past such a place that looked like an office. So I had a problem. One I only grasped after I had walked down a web of hallways and corridors. I found myself at a four way crossing point, peering down all four hallways I couldn't even recall the one I'd come from. No one came from or moved in any direction, student or otherwise.

I cursed myself angrily, looking around, "Where do you hide an office?" I asked myself aloud. When no glowing nugget of knowledge came to me I cursed, heatedly, for a full minute before the loud clearing of some ones throat interrupted me.

I spun around quickly, almost toppling over as my bags weight caught me off balance, and ended practically nose to chest with a pale boy behind me. I quickly took a step back and barely stopped short of pitching backward.

"Excuse me for interrupting but, you seem lost. Might you by any chance be looking for the office?" the boy asked in a throaty voice, good enough for any country singing star. My face heated, color rising to my cheeks as I questioned "how long have been standing there?"

His face twitched ever so slightly but he maintained his stoic look of nonchalance, but his solidly blue eyes shone with obvious mirth. "Oh quite long enough to learn a few words, even I, hadn't heard before."

But my attention had shifted back to his eyes. I reassessed the boy. His hair was inky dark and was swept up in a tight braid reaching below his shoulders. He had distinctly Asian features but the height was unusual, as were his electric eyes. Oh the tilt of them went in the Asian category, a gentle up ward slant, but his eyes were solid and blue. No Asian I knew of had solid blue eyes; no human I knew had solid eyes of any color. There appeared to be no pupil at all in his eyes, giving them the impression of someone blind. His features were delicate and molded thinly on his bones, pitched cheeks and a bold nose. His clothing was in shades of black, ranging from deep ebony to midnight, accentuating his eyes, intensifying them and highlighting his creamy skin.

"When you get done gawking at me you can close your mouth and I'll walk you to the office. That is if you want." He commented seemingly nonplused by my stare.

"N-nice contacts," I spoke quickly to cover my embarrassment, "and I should like it very much if you would show me the way to the office, I seem to be unable to find it alone." My voice squeaked at the last, sometimes puberty's a pain.

His lips twitched ever so slightly again before he walked up to me and took my arm, turning me in the opposite direction. His hand on my arm was like a grip of iron, cold and unforgiving. I think I hid my wince as he pulled me down hallway after hallway, but if I didn't he made no comment.

He was silent the entire walk to the office, a bit more than silent actually, a little broody even. I was suddenly pulled from my silent musings by a sharp twist on my arm. My vision went white I ground my teeth and winced a bit, the boy must have some muscles hidden in his slight form.

"Hey kid we're here." The boy said quietly gesturing towards the glass door. How do you miss a solid, clear, glass door? I wondered dumbly as I stared at it. "Yeah. The office. Right, well, Thank you I guess." I intoned politely; hiding the strain within me with a smile I hoped was sincere.

"Don't thank me yet kid. You owe me now." He said and turned too quickly to fallow and disappeared down a narrow hall. I quelled the bubble of panic that rose to the surface at his words, he didn't mean it. At least I prayed he did not. Debts were always repaid with interest.

I looked toward the glass door way he had indicated was the office. I went forward and pushed the door inward. It did not move. I shoved at it harder, nothing. My eyes dropped down to just below the black bar near the handle. There in old black block lettering "Pull" was spelled out labeling its function clearly. It seemed the school itself was against me.

I pulled the door open and walked to the large mahogany desk. No one sat in the gently spinning chair behind it and no one wandered elsewhere in the office. I grumbled and looked around for a bell. It was tiny and silver and when I rang it its sound was high clear and sweet.

I stood waiting a few moments, but when it became evident no one was coming I paced agitatedly to dusky red waiting chairs. If you call a kid to the office doesn't it make sense some ones in said office? Collapsed into one of the chairs and flung my bag lightly into the one beside me. Waiting almost two full minutes I finally decided if I had to wait then I could read.

I pulled out a worn book with a simple black cover; across it printed in curving golden letters was the title "The War of the Rose" it was a romantic story set during the war of the roses, a personal favorite of mine and an old story too. I was just beginning to read the best chapter, the one in which the main character, a werewolf, told the beautiful princess he would always love her as she plunged a silver wire between his ribs.

A woman stalked in, her pace was elegant and silent like a jungle cat. She looked over at me as she brushed the hanging curtain back into place, I noticed then a simple curtain I had thought hid a window, a hallway she had apparently came from.

"Hey Kid? Wad' a' ya' wan'?" she drawled in a deeply southern accent, thick as syrup. I rose to my feet and tossed my book into my bag carelessly. Then I stared at her, any sarcastic or biting words I had been ready to spout dying on my heavy tongue. Her thick red mop of hair, and was it a wig, was done up in a way that went out in the fifties and used so much hair spray I just know the ozone was crying, her makeup was from the same era, all understated and pale doing nothing positive for her.

"Didn't Mr. Dillons request that I come to his office, immediately?" I inquired, the shock of her not knowing why I was there releasing my tongue of lead. She had to have been the mysterious Ms. Garrison unless another lady from an outdated time happened to be hidden down the curtained corridor.

"Yer Name, young feller, what is it?" she ordered in a voice that spoke of a woman used to getting her way. "Kyle Broflowski. Shouldn't you know that? Do random kids just walk in here daily? Why don't you know who I am? Didn't you call me here?" I paused and leaned forward towards the desk to read the brass nameplate settled there, "Ms. Garrison?" I finished my suspicions confirmed.

Her eyes shot upward from the note she had been reading and flashed almost a hard silver behind blue, her eyes narrowed "Just go down this hallway, first door on you right is Dillons office." She hissed sharply sweeping the lightweight curtain to the side so I could pass, her harshly red nails glittering in the florescent lights. Her voice brooked no disagreement, and suddenly I knew I wouldn't want to meet her outside of school grounds.

As I slid past her into the sparsely lit hall I stumbled. I sailed face first toward the floor, my bag slipped from my shoulder tossing the contents out across the carpet. I heard a clear vicious laugh and a clacking of teeth as the receptionist expressed her amusement, before I was swept into mild darkness as the curtain fell into place. The whole school was against me.

I stumbled to my feet and groped around for my things. I quickly shoved my books and papers into my bag and stomped toward the outline of light to my right. The Hanging curtain was all that stood between me and the principal's office. The idea of going in the room terrified me, I'd never been in trouble before, not because of something I'd done anyway. I swung the door open without a knock and stepped in, blinking against the sudden light.

"Mr. Broflowski," a voice as cool and sweet as the summer breeze stated quietly. I was staring at the floor afraid to look up. Then shoving away my fears I looked at him. He was quite handsome; he had short curly mud colored hair and a kind tanned face with quicksilver eyes full of warmth.

"Yes sir? You wanted to see me?" I said stupidly standing in the door way unsure of what to do. "Yes please Mr. Broflowski. Shut the door some in have a seat don't be shy, I don't bite." His voice was very pleasant warm and cool all at the same time.

After I had done as he bid and shut the door I seated myself in the chair closest to him it was stiff and strait backed, uncomfortable. Placing my bag in my lap gently I looked at him again and shifted uncomfortably. There was something very volatile about those silvery eyes. I shook the thought away; he was a nice guy, he was treating me kindly anyway. He'd done nothing to earn my distrust.

"So Kyle how has your first day at South Park High turned out so far?" he asked in a way that went past normal politeness, like really wanted to know what I thought of his school. "Uh, it's been ok I guess." I had to work not to look into his eyes. I had to work not to tell him how bad it had been so far, and how I didn't have any friends yet and how it was awful.

He looked at me as if I were a puzzle that needed solving for a moment before continuing "Is there any reason in particular that your parents moved you from your old school to this one, Kyle? I mean you live between about four counties why here?"

My throat tightened closed. My last school had been a privet school just outside Park County. No one from the school board or even my foster care agency would have said a word, too much bad publicity, and anything to hurt the school was kept quiet, they could afford it. Looking at the diamond patterned carpet I counted to fifteen before retorting in a quavering voice "Not really sir, I mean it did have the highest test scores locally and I do live a bit closer to Park then any other county." Both were true.

My expression was carefully schooled and I avoided his eyes but I looked up, just to the left of his face. His smile dropped quickly, leaving his face blank and stark. My right hand twitched slightly and I covered it with my left. "Can the crap kid. Tell me who sent you. Why they sent you and you can leave. I promise if you give me what I want you can walk out and never look back, not a scratch on you." The low grating sound of his voice almost hurt.

I flinched sideways. "Sir I don't know what you mean, I simply heard you had better educators and programs so I decided to switch to this school" I said my insides coiling tightly in apprehension. What had he heard? Was it a rumor or the stark uncolored truth? A rumor would color it all wrong telling the worst bits right and everything else even worse.

"You, boy? Not your parents, Mr. Broflowski? Why would you have a choice in which school you were sent to?" Mr. Dillon's voice had dropped an octave lower. Something about his tone forced me to steal a glance at his eyes. They burned silver with anger and I jerked my eyes away and stared down at my hands which were squeezing each other tight in my lap, colored a bloodless white.

"My parents work very hard, almost all hours in a day. So mostly I have to be independent." I said using a variation of one of the lies I told everyone when any awkward questions presented themselves. The truth was my parents, my foster parents, didn't care about anything I did. Mostly they just wanted me to shut up and forced independence on me, saying it would help in the future.

I felt Mr. Dillons white hot stare on me, gripping my hands tighter. A moment later he snapped out "That's all. Please go back to your class." I looked up sharply and he motioned to the door with his left hand grabbing his desk phone with the right. I took the dismissal for the gift it was and scrambled out the door clutching the bag tightly.

A shrill ring sounded as soon as I stepped out the office doors. Fourth period had arrived. Pulling out my schedule as I walked down the hall, I wanted to put as much distance between me and the office as I could and the creeping of the flesh on the back of my neck didn't disagree, I checked my fourth period class. The class was French two with a Mrs. Polsky.

StarGuide2012