Kindled Spirits
All in all, I guess this first day hasn't been so bad. Bianca's in my Creative Writing Class, Noelani sits diagonal from me in English, and it's even better when I see Astra in my second, fourth, sixth, and seventh period classes. This Spanish class is awkward though. It's the same school building, but enveloped with a different kind of silence, one that can't be heard by simply standing still. Maybe I'm the only one who notices.
Sighing, Aysel lowered down her pen and let it rest on her desk as she flipped the page of her blue notebook and scribbled down three more sentences of senseless notes. Soon, the pen lay on the desk, lifeless, with no thoughts to unleash onto the paper present in the hand of Aysel. She looked up, bored, and spotted the "Spanish" teacher poking her head into a filing cabinet where she fished out a fat, army green notebook and slipped out a black pencil from the back of her left ear. Aysel chuckled at the site of her fluffed black hair sticking on her head like an alien saucer bobbing back and force as she moved back to her podium and sat on the stool behind it. Mrs. Malloy? Malloy sure doesn't sound like a last name someone would have if they fluently spoke Spanish. The sound of a moving chair beside her distracted her temporarily. She turned and saw a girl slightly taller than she look at her curiously and take the empty seat. The girl removed some of her blonde hair away from her face and kept looking at Aysel with too much curiosity, or so Aysel thought. Aysel paid little attention and went back to writing as soon as the teacher began speaking in Spanish, then translating it all into English. "So what you're going to do, children, is have someone close to you practice saying hello, your name, age, or whatever, to each other in Spanish. Ok?" Mrs. Malloy asked, and finding no answer, allowed the students to begin their assignment. Aysel slipped her opened notebook under the front cover of her recently opened Spanish book and peered at the pages closely. So easy, too bad I'm already fluent," Then, she unzipped her black backpack and took out a composition book, where she began to copy down Spanish words that had been up on the blackboard for quite awhile. "Um, do you want to practice?" A bit startled, Aysel didn't know whether to be angry, or just let it slip when she noticed that the girl beside her had kept trying to look at her notes.
Aysel managed a warm smile and set aside her composition book to recite rich and foreign words with a total stranger. Once they were finished, Aysel found a strange feeling erupt inside her, as if the girl was someone she should know. She dug out her blue notebook once more and made sure she kept it away from the peering blue eyes of Cameron, which was what the girl had called herself. Forty-five minutes later, Aysel was more than happy to hear the loud ringing bell dismiss the class. "I think I'm dropping this class," Astra, Aysel's cousin, said as she waited patiently as Aysel collected her books and zipped up her backpack. "Really, what kind of name is Mrs. Malloy for a Spanish teacher? I don't like the way she teaches, and she keeps calling us 'children' damnit! We are freakin fifteen year-olds!" "Well go ahead and take German. But I'm not leaving, since I know that's exactly what you have in mind for me to do." Aysel answered. "Oh come on! At least sign up for journalism! It's so good! You'll have a fantastic time there!" Astra bribed as both girls left the classroom and ascended down the second floor stairs and out into the parking lot.
"I'm sorry, but journalism is NOT my thing, and it's best if you do the describing, and I do the Negaverse ass-kicking." Aysel replied with a smirk. The two leaned back against the fence and watched cars stroll by down the streets of Glassell Park. Astra rolled her eyes, "The last time I wrote about that was months ago! We haven't seen a single trace of demons anymore than you see a blue moon!" "But that still doesn't give reason to just throw our jobs away! I know you don't like being a Sailor Scout. These sorts of responsibilities don't come every lifetime, and they sure aren't choices, Astra. They're privileges, and if you'll excuse me, Linda's on time. See you tomorrow."
Astra frowned behind Aysel's back, watching the brunette walk to the nice looking S500 Mercedes as the soft winter wind licked the shoulder-length, fawn colored hair from her face and played between her bare legs, smoothing out her short blue shorts and gray tank top. "Dear moons of Jupiter, will she ever see it my way?!" With nothing else more to do, Astra flicked out her Sailor Senshi communicator and pressed a few buttons that directed her to a small chart, one that traced dark energy signals from different parts of the world. "Strange, how the hell," She murmured, peering in more closely into the purple mini computer. It was usually in many parts of Japan that the energy mainly was received from. But this time, it was in much areas located deep into the Western hemisphere. The Negaverse was coming.
All in all, I guess this first day hasn't been so bad. Bianca's in my Creative Writing Class, Noelani sits diagonal from me in English, and it's even better when I see Astra in my second, fourth, sixth, and seventh period classes. This Spanish class is awkward though. It's the same school building, but enveloped with a different kind of silence, one that can't be heard by simply standing still. Maybe I'm the only one who notices.
Sighing, Aysel lowered down her pen and let it rest on her desk as she flipped the page of her blue notebook and scribbled down three more sentences of senseless notes. Soon, the pen lay on the desk, lifeless, with no thoughts to unleash onto the paper present in the hand of Aysel. She looked up, bored, and spotted the "Spanish" teacher poking her head into a filing cabinet where she fished out a fat, army green notebook and slipped out a black pencil from the back of her left ear. Aysel chuckled at the site of her fluffed black hair sticking on her head like an alien saucer bobbing back and force as she moved back to her podium and sat on the stool behind it. Mrs. Malloy? Malloy sure doesn't sound like a last name someone would have if they fluently spoke Spanish. The sound of a moving chair beside her distracted her temporarily. She turned and saw a girl slightly taller than she look at her curiously and take the empty seat. The girl removed some of her blonde hair away from her face and kept looking at Aysel with too much curiosity, or so Aysel thought. Aysel paid little attention and went back to writing as soon as the teacher began speaking in Spanish, then translating it all into English. "So what you're going to do, children, is have someone close to you practice saying hello, your name, age, or whatever, to each other in Spanish. Ok?" Mrs. Malloy asked, and finding no answer, allowed the students to begin their assignment. Aysel slipped her opened notebook under the front cover of her recently opened Spanish book and peered at the pages closely. So easy, too bad I'm already fluent," Then, she unzipped her black backpack and took out a composition book, where she began to copy down Spanish words that had been up on the blackboard for quite awhile. "Um, do you want to practice?" A bit startled, Aysel didn't know whether to be angry, or just let it slip when she noticed that the girl beside her had kept trying to look at her notes.
Aysel managed a warm smile and set aside her composition book to recite rich and foreign words with a total stranger. Once they were finished, Aysel found a strange feeling erupt inside her, as if the girl was someone she should know. She dug out her blue notebook once more and made sure she kept it away from the peering blue eyes of Cameron, which was what the girl had called herself. Forty-five minutes later, Aysel was more than happy to hear the loud ringing bell dismiss the class. "I think I'm dropping this class," Astra, Aysel's cousin, said as she waited patiently as Aysel collected her books and zipped up her backpack. "Really, what kind of name is Mrs. Malloy for a Spanish teacher? I don't like the way she teaches, and she keeps calling us 'children' damnit! We are freakin fifteen year-olds!" "Well go ahead and take German. But I'm not leaving, since I know that's exactly what you have in mind for me to do." Aysel answered. "Oh come on! At least sign up for journalism! It's so good! You'll have a fantastic time there!" Astra bribed as both girls left the classroom and ascended down the second floor stairs and out into the parking lot.
"I'm sorry, but journalism is NOT my thing, and it's best if you do the describing, and I do the Negaverse ass-kicking." Aysel replied with a smirk. The two leaned back against the fence and watched cars stroll by down the streets of Glassell Park. Astra rolled her eyes, "The last time I wrote about that was months ago! We haven't seen a single trace of demons anymore than you see a blue moon!" "But that still doesn't give reason to just throw our jobs away! I know you don't like being a Sailor Scout. These sorts of responsibilities don't come every lifetime, and they sure aren't choices, Astra. They're privileges, and if you'll excuse me, Linda's on time. See you tomorrow."
Astra frowned behind Aysel's back, watching the brunette walk to the nice looking S500 Mercedes as the soft winter wind licked the shoulder-length, fawn colored hair from her face and played between her bare legs, smoothing out her short blue shorts and gray tank top. "Dear moons of Jupiter, will she ever see it my way?!" With nothing else more to do, Astra flicked out her Sailor Senshi communicator and pressed a few buttons that directed her to a small chart, one that traced dark energy signals from different parts of the world. "Strange, how the hell," She murmured, peering in more closely into the purple mini computer. It was usually in many parts of Japan that the energy mainly was received from. But this time, it was in much areas located deep into the Western hemisphere. The Negaverse was coming.