While studying at my desk on a Saturday, I began pondering about my life. I wanted to become a doctor, because I enjoyed biology and yearned to assist others in need. But lately, I just haven't been feeling myself. I keep questioning my reasoning, which leads to wrong choices, and then I have to amend it. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear the doorbell ringing, until the person who is at the door rang the bell three times. Wow, this guy is really persistent, huh? I thought to myself. "I got it!" I let out a sigh, then proceeded downstairs and made my way towards the door. I opened it, discovering a mailman wearing a strange uniform- it was nothing like I've ever seen before: a white cap with some bold, black letters that says, "DC" (DC, as in Washington DC?), and a black button-up shirt with a comical white skull on the left side of his chest. The man handed me a dainty white envelope, embellished with gold lining around the edges. I accepted it with a small thanks, and walked up to my room, while tearing it open. I took the letter out and began reading.

Dear Catherine Tao,

You have gratefully been accepted to Death Weapon Meister Academy, or, commonly known as, DWMA. If you haven't noticed already, you should have been experiencing some unusual predicaments. The reason for that is because you are a meister, someone who possesses an unique soul that can yield a weapon. The purpose of this school is to protect the world against insanity. Come to the academy immediately so we will discuss this further, and begin your training.

From, Lord Death

Headmaster of School

I re-read the letter five more times, and did some research on the school before finally coming to the conclusion that this was no joke. But still, DWMA? As in, the World Police? Me? A meister?! This has to be some mistake? I'm dedicating my life towards healing citizens, not out battling monsters! I shuddered at the thought of terrifying creatures attacking me. This is exactly the same as being face-to-face with ghosts! No way am I going, it's a suicide mission. I turned around to throw away the letter, but stopped midway and reconsidered: not everyone can be a meister. And I do want to help people. I sighed and concluded that the right thing to do would be to attend the academy.

I hugged the letter firmly to my flatter-than-usual chest, and made a beeline to the basement, to where my strict, Chinese father was. I quickly hid the letter behind my back and walked to him.

His face, as usual, was behind the computer screen, and he was studying one of his science courses. I inhaled deeply as I took a step forward.

"Um, Daddy," I started.

"Hmm?" He gave a careless reply.

"I just got a letter from a boarding school for elite students. It's called Shibusen Academy. Can I go? I've been accepted. You can research online for more information."

That wasn't a complete lie. Before I came to my dad, I did some researching of my own. There's another website for 'outsiders', people who don't really know what the heck DWMA is actually for. The information on there is simplified to the point where you could say it's lying. Lord Death didn't want to scare anyone, knowing that he's creating an army full of kids, who are supposedly fighting monsters.

No reply from my dad. Uh oh, this can't be good. He isn't saying anything!

"Okay," Daddy said uncertainly after he did a quick search online. "I'm surprised you got in, Catherine. I didn't expect that you'd make it in. It says that only one in a thousand selected peers can be accepted."

I didn't know what I should feel more: anger because my dad thought less of my capabilities, or surprised because he actually praised me. All I want to do is please him, nothing more.

"So, does that mean I can go?" I asked.

He spoke after consideration. "Sure. This would certainly look good on you college resume."

"Oh, and don't worry about the money issue. The principle of the school already paid for my airline tickets. All you have to do is drive me to JFK Airport. Well, considering the huge house that we live in currently, I wouldn't think money is really an issue as long as its for my studies," I replied with venom in the last sentence.

With that said, I triumphantly marched back to my room to pack my belongings.