Authors Note:
I'll make this brief, constructive criticism: good, annoying comments: bad. Now that we got all the straightened out, enjoy.
I don't own Dark Angel or any of the characters.
Ms. Joan's 10th grade class walked slowly into the small, yellow classroom. Each student gradually took their places in their assigned seats and waited impatiently for the bell to ring. Ms. Joan grabbed her papers and once again kicked herself for leaving that Advil at home. It was going to be another long day.
"Good Morning Students" Ms. Joan announced to the half dead classroom. As usual there was no reply just a few nods and a cough from Joey Winthberry, who seemed to be always sickly.
"Today we are going to have a guest speaker lecture you on…"she spoke casually glancing down at the paper, "The Transgenic Wars." This incited a few curious glances, but nothing to get excited about, just another speaker on another topic.
Ms. Joan sat at her desk and looked over the faces of the students. They all seemed bored and disinterested, but inside Ms. Joan was anything but. She remember the Wars, they started when she was a little girl and lasted well into her teens. It had been apart of her childhood, hearing the news about the transgenics, seeing the faces of their leaders plastered on every newspaper across the nation. They never smiled in the pictures, just looked forlornly at the camera, as if asking what they did to deserve this.
She had tried on several occasions to engage the class in lectures about the transgenics, but this was High School and no one comes to learn. She wondered what this speaker would be like, most historians told the tales of the Transgenic Wars in favor of the ordinaries, but most knew otherwise. What they did was genocide and it broke her heart to think about it.
The classroom door squeaked open and the speaker carefully walked inside, closing the door behind him. He was older than Ms. Joan had pictured, probably in his early twenties when the Wars began. He dressed in a dark black shirt, with a matching jacket, and ripped slacks. His hair was grizzled and his eyes looked as if they had witnessed a thousand deaths and Ms. Joan had the sneaking suspicion they had.
"Good morning" he began in a gruff voice filled with sadness. "I am here to talk to you about the Transgenic Wars, about the brave men and women who fought and died for their freedom." He glanced down at his hands then all at once made eye contact with every student in the room. "My name is Calvin Simon Theodore, but my friends called me Sketchy."
Ms. Joan leaned back in her chair and watched the class as they begun to perk up. This lecture, this speaker, this one would be different; this one would be the truth.
End
I know, another really short piece, but I am workin gon a big one.