WARNING: Extremely long author's note ahead! Scroll past all the text that's in bold if you don't want to read it.
If you think this fic is stupid, you should have read my other one ::rolls eyes::. God, it was so full of fluff that the poor people who actually read it were suffocated. Anyways, lucky for you that this version is much better. I reeeeeally hope you like it, but I hope even more that you review. Flame, if you must, but keep in mind that this is my first fic.ADVERTISEMENT: Do you have a purple elf infestation? Call The Elf Busters! We'll send one of our fantastic purple elf exterminators over to help you regain control over your household!
Hehe, sorry about the ad above, but poor Bob (the llama) informed me that his job wasn't getting much publicity and therefore not much business, so I promised to help out. POOR BOB!! He caught Anne cheating on him with a BULL and he's been depressed ever since!!
Oh, and, by the way, here's a disclaimer although since this is a fanfiction website I really don't think it's needed:
Disclaimer: Miss Rowling owns all of the Harry Potter characters, not I. If I did, I'd be working on a new book, not writing fanfiction. Bita owns Bita, Tiffany owns Tiffany, and Rachelle owns Rachelle and Matt. All other characters were brought from Odd Land and forced to live in this fic.
Now, I must go because -
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
::screams bloody murder::
THE
PURPLE
BAGS
ARE
COMING!!!
RUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!
RUUUUUUUUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!!
WHATEVER YOU DO
DON'T
ROTATE
THE
CLOCK!!!!
Thank you.
Now, on to the story.
Really.
I mean it this time.
Here it is.
(drumroll)
LINKIN PARK ROCKS!!
To anyone who thinks otherwise...MAY THE PURPLE BAGS HAUNT YOU FOREVER!!!! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Chapter 1
Rachelle, Bita, and Tiffany ran as fast as they could to P.E. They were a bit annoyed when they realized that as soon as they reached the gym for their most hated class, they would be going outside onto the track to run yet again as fast as they could because it was track season.
"I despise P.E.," Tiffany said with dismay as the three friends entered the girls' locker room and began twirling the combination locks that secured the small, blue lockers that held their P.E. uniforms.
"Ugh, me too," Rachelle agreed.
"So do the lemons," said Bita.
"You mean did. The lemons are DEAD, Bita," Tiffany informed her.
Bita gasped. "No!"
"Yes," Tiffany said, examining a small hole in her P.E. shorts. "Waffle Pudding ate them."
"All of them?" Bita asked, completely horrified.
"Mmhmm," Rachelle answered solemnly.
Conversations such as these (among other things) were the cause of everyone calling the three friends The Odds. Of course, the girls weren't offended, not at all. In fact, they enjoyed the name and encouraged people to call them by it.
Bita looked as if she were about to cry but didn't get the chance as Coach Nordman walked swiftly through the door. Coach Nordman was short, squat, with short-blonde hair and Rachelle said she looked like a cross between Steve Irwin and a duckie.
"Hurry up girls, we have a lot to do today. We're having a test soon, so we'll be running laps around the track the whole period," said the gym teacher cheerfully as she made a note on the clipboard she was carrying.
The whole class groaned. Usually they only ran four laps, and that only took about twenty minutes. But a whole forty-five minutes of running would be a living hell.
"Well Bita, you don't have to worry about missing the lemons any more. We're about to die and join them on the other side," Tiffany said with a sigh.
"You know, I might pretend to faint and blame it on a heatstroke or something," Rachelle said thoughtfully, though neither she nor her two friends believed it. Rachelle had never lied to a teacher or broken any school rules in her life and she wasn't at all proud of it.
Everyone finished changing into their P.E. uniforms, walked into the gym, and headed to the pair of double doors that led to the school's track. It was only about eleven minutes after Coach Nordman blew her whistle - the signal for everyone to start running - that a short, plump student-aide from the attendance office came up to the coach and handed her three notes to pull three girls out of class. Apparently their guardian was here to pick them up early.
Rachelle noticed this and hit Tiffany in the arm.
"Wishful thinking," said Tiffany, looking to where Rachelle was pointing. "Why would Mr. Vilner be picking us up early?"
Mr. Vilner was The Odds' guardian. He often visited orphanages, looking for special children. He took the three girls one day, realizing at once that they were exactly what he was looking for. Their real parents had abandoned them years ago, shortly after they were born. Mr. Vilner was also The Odds' special instructor. He taught them at a special school for the paranormally gifted. This school's name was Estaln. The girls attended the school in order to learn how to properly use their powers. They only went on weekends though, because Mr. Vilner believed they should go to a normal school on weekdays so they could learn everything they needed to learn for the real world and also so they could make new friends. Fat chance of the latter ever happening. The only people the three girls had ever trusted were each other.
Each of The Odds had their own special powers. Tiffany was clairvoyant and could read a whole book just by touching the cover for a moment, retaining all of the information thanks to her photographic memory, Bita could levitate and astral project, Rachelle was pyrokinetic and had telekinesis, and all three girls had telepathy which often came in handy for private conversations.
"But what other three people would leave at the same time?" Rachelle asked.
"Hmm. You do have a point…" Tiffany said.
Coach Nordman looked at the three blue slips in her hand and called the names of the three girls that were to leave.
"Rachel, Bita, and Tiffany!" she yelled.
"MY…NAME…IS…RACHELLE, COACH DUCKIE!!!" Rachelle practically screamed, pronouncing every single syllable very slowly as she and her two best friends gladly stopped running and made their way toward Coach Coleman.
"Sorry, Rachelle," Coach Nordman said, apparently not hearing Rachelle call her "Coach Duckie".
The three girls hurried back to the gym, then the locker room where they quickly changed back to their normal clothes, all the while thinking about how very lucky they were. Then they ran to their regular lockers, grabbed their backpacks, and ran to the attendance office where Mr. Vilner was waiting for them. It seemed as if they had spent half of their lives running. They ran from class to class every weekday. They ran to Estaln - which also served as their home - after their normal school was over. But, most of all, they ran from the execrable Zastrin.
Zastrin had found out about the girls' powers very recently. How, they didn't know. All they knew was what Mr. Vilner told them, and that was the fact that Zastrin had gone after and killed many people before for apparently no reason. He also told them that Zastrin was definitely after them, suddenly appearing in areas near wherever The Odds happened to be, and that he was after their powers. How did Mr. Vilner know what Zastrin was after? The Odds didn't know. Why exactly would Zastrin pursue the girls just because they had paranormal powers? They didn't know that either, but the way Mr. Vilner talked about it, it seemed that Zastrin was going to somehow attempt to steal their powers.
The Odds finally made it to the attendance office where Mr. Vilner was waiting with a look on his face that was a mixture of horror, shock, and fear.
"Finally! I was worried something happened to you…" he said, grabbing Rachelle and Bita by the arm. He then tried to grab Tiffany's arm with the same hand that held Rachelle's arm, but gave up and motioned for her to just follow behind them.
"Why would something happen to us on the walk from the gym to here?" Rachelle asked with a combination of curiosity and worry.
"I'll explain it all in the car," replied Mr. Vilner, and that was the end of that.
Indeed, Mr. Vilner explained everything in the car, and what he told the girls was enough to make them rethink their earlier thought of being very lucky.