Kind of a New Place

by Yoursoulismine

When Maka is sent to a new school, the school of her deams, she is thrilled. Although when she arrives, it's not what she expected. But she can't leave, it doesn't work like that, The DWMA is a different kind of school. And she might need them as much as they need her.

Hi guys, this is my second story, I'm hoping you like it!

{0.001}

I stood by the telephone pole and waited for the bus to come. Two other kids were there, both on their phones. I had left mine on the bus a few days earlier so I was bored during the long ride back to my apartment. I'd usually put my earbuds in and ignore others who got on or off, whether I knew them or not, and read or do homework until the bus came as close to my house as it could. A girl with dark ginger hair handed her little brother a ticket as the bus inched to our stop. It was nearing dusk, being five o' clock and nearly December, I stayed late after school on Wednesdays because of volleyball practise. I pulled out my bus pass and swiped it, the little machine beeped and I went to sit at the back of the bus. Some girl with pink hair was sitting in my usual spot. I frowned but didn't want to start anything so I went to the seat opposite her. With no music I had to put up with the weird noises and strange conversations while I read. I groaned at my stupidity.

The bus finally dropped me off at the usual three blocks from my driveway; I said thanks and hopped off. It was already five forty-eight and I had to make dinner for papa and I before I could start homework. There were finals in five weeks and I had been studying every night for an hour and a half instead of turning on the TV and vegging out after a long day. Wednesdays were no exception even with volleyball. I began the trek back home, slightly dreading walking through the door just to see my father with another skank. While I accepted the fact he was the lead singer of his band, and was fairly good at it, I didn't agree with his choice of company, especially since I couldn't just go to mama's to escape it anymore.

I decided to run the last kilometre home, I was only slightly breathless when I ran down the driveway. I huffed my way through the door and quietly shut it behind me, not wanting papa to realise just yet that I was home, and padded upstairs. I heard faint giggling and grimaced, but the house was so big I wouldn't hear much from my room. I ran down the corridor and into my room, closing the door with a click. I let my backpack fall to the floor and locked my door, my room was fairly regular; white walls, black furniture, olive green bed spread and a mahogany head-board. The roller chair in front of my desk squeaked slightly as I sank down into it. With my eyes closed, my fingers found the secret drawer under my desk and opened it. I took one of the three items in it out, a brochure. It was for a school in Nevada. It had been my dream to attend, but you only got in if you were invited, and sadly, I had not. I unfolded it and stared at the contents. Every single person at my school wanted to attend the DWMA, but it was so secretive, no one could get ahold of their e-mail, address, phone-number, or even what their name stood for. But when I came across the brochure at my bus stop, I nearly died. It held no information on how to contact them, but did say one thing.

This is for you.

We know it is.

-DWMA

I had read those words over and over for two years. I just knew it really was for me. The cover simply had the original "DWMA" on it with someone, whom I guessed was a student, standing with his back to the camera, arms at his side. He had white hair that stuck up around his head and wore a leather jacket and beige pants. It looked like he didn't really know someone was behind him because it seemed like he was walking as it was being taken. I ran my fingers around his outline and stared at the picture for a few more minutes before deciding it was okay to go downstairs and make my presence known. I set the brochure back in its resting place and locked the drawer.

I made fried rice with shrimp and a ton of veggies. I took my dinner up to my room after papa had asked me how my day was then introduced me to Erica; at least it wasn't Candy or Tiffany. I opened up my binder and flipped to the newest page of notes to memorize. There is a lot more to the periodic table then people think. Once finished eating and mostly done with studying, I took my plate to the kitchen and placed it in the dishwasher. I could hear papa talking to the girl he had over.

"Oh she's just so cute! I can't wait to meet her again." Erica said to him in a high pitched tone that I was surprised anyone other than dogs could hear. I grimaced and covered my ears before I could hear papa's response. I decided I wanted to go up to the attic to relax. It used to be mama and I's hangout, we would go up there when papa would come home drunk or if we just wanted to be alone together. I still came up every so often, as it was still decorated and useful, but since mama left it hasn't been the same. I trudged up the wooden steps to the latch of the attic, the thick rope used to pull down the ladder still hung there, very still and dusty from neglect. I yanked it and lowered the ladder, then climbed up the cold rungs. The room was the same as the last time I came up, white Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, a futon with colorful sheets and blankets thrown over it, four black and white bean bag chairs sat in the middle, three hadn't been used in what seemed like forever, and a small TV sitting on the shelf of a nearly full bookshelf. I pulled up the ladder behind me and closed the latch, the TV clicked on to static when I went to see what was on. Almost all the channels were the same or incredibly fuzzy except one or two, it was either infomercials or the music station. The Cranberries were playing Zombie, the familiar black and white music video played as I went to go sit down on the futon. The colorful blankets fell on me as soon as I sat down, I settled in and reached over into my wicker crafts basket and pulled out my knitting. I had no idea how to knit anything but a scarf, and I wasn't too good at that either. And besides, I had no idea how to cast off without letting it all unravel. So my scarf was long enough to wrap around my neck four times. Now I almost wanted to see how long I could make it. I picked up where I left off and the soothing clicking of my needles relaxed me to a point of almost sleep. I woke myself up and looked at the clock on the wall. It was already ten thirty. I sighed and got up, I had been up there for nearly an hour and needed to go to bed or I would regret it in the morning. I tidied up and turned the TV off, then climbed down the ladder to the floor. It was kind of dark because of the lack of lighting so I had to feel my way back to my room. The light blinded me for a split second when I turned it on, but my eyes adjusted quickly. I changed into my green and yellow pajamas mama got me a year or so ago. I clicked off the light and climbed under the comforter. I let the darkness coat me until my eyes adjusted and I stared out my window. Stars and a huge moon greeted me, I said goodnight and rolled over. I wasn't really in the mood for a conversation with the man in the moon at that hour.