DC: You all know the drill. You see it, I don't own it. Except for the main character... she's mine. Heh, she's me. I know the rules say 'unfictional characters are banned' or something to that extent, but I picture myself as fictional enough. Don't kill me! I'm innocent!
Okay, I admit it. This is insane. Insane, I tell you, INSANE! I shouldn't be here. Shouldn't have just walked through a freaking wall, shouldn't have a trunk instead of regular bags. And damn it all, I should not have a wooden stick. Is it some kind of freak poking device!
Okay, let me say this. Whoever these people are, they're creepy. OH! ALL THAT BE ETH HOLY! Is that really a snake! A god damn snake.. Great! Hoho! This is going to be fabulous.
Before I get too hysterical, I want to mention something. I D-O-N-O-T-B-E-L-O-N-G-H-E-R-E! I am just me... perfectly content with that. Just me. Simple 'ol me. Brown hair, blue eyes, jump around the loony bin... me. I don't use wooden sticks to torture people, nor do I intend to. OKay, so it would be kinda cool... but that does NOT mean I'll really do it. Nope.. I'm not completely neurotic yet.
Yes, I am on a sugar high. One hundred points to you! HEY! I was nervous! And I'm never nervous. But it's not every day you get a letter by a damn barn owl, now is it? Or have your parents stare at you like you're insane... trust me, they did that. OR! Go through a few bricks and find out there's a whole freaking city behind it! Or buy things that have names that... I'd rather not say. Considering some of it is still moving, I'd be suprised if anyone could tell what it is. Looks a little like a mix between hairgel and pudding. Nope, definately not looking at it anymore.
Well, here's a little blast to the past(hated that movie). I'm me, as I've undoubtedly said. If I were anyone else, I'd scream and run away... to myself. Right. Now, then. I'm 16, and somehow ended up here. HEY! It's my story here! If I want to skip two months of junk, then so be it!
Fine, fine. Sir Persistent. Should I add some fluff for your entertainment? Well, here goes:
I was sitting in bed, staring out to an azure sky...
cough, cough- Okay. New perspective. I used to live in the U.S. I liked it... yes, it was absolutely facinating. No sarcasm! It was actually quite cool. I was a freshman in high school, a normal high school, thank-you-very-much. I turned sixteen in January. Three weeks after my birthday, an owl flew into my window, with some roll thing attached to it. It freaked me out, naturally. The thing could have waited until after four in the morning, in my opinion. Anyhow. I opened the window, avoided the thing's amazingly sharp beak, and took off the roll thing. Turns out it was a fabulous letter of acceptance to...
The freak place. Oh joy.
You'd think these people would have gotten better means of communication. Owls. Phfft. Telephones are much faster. And if it's real urgent, there's always beloved America Online. -cheesy grin- Well. My parents didn't get the whole witch thing. Well, Dad got it... Meghan just sorta sat there, being ditzy like usual. Honestly, the chick's two years older than I am! There's got to be a law against stuff like that. -shakes head miserably-
OH DON'T YOU DARE GO AND TRY TO PROTECT HER YOU... YOU! Sigh... She's not really that bad. And if I really cared, I'd probably learn some things from her. But I don't care. Hence the not knowing thing.
Anyway, I figured out with my brilliant brain that I was going to a school where they don't do things right, and I was accepted five years late. SO! Guess what that means! I got to learn things with the pokey stick over the summer from my father. Apparently he's a wizard. And guess what! I get to skip five grades at the freak school because of my age and -cough, cough- ability. Then again...
I still can't believe I just ran through a freaking wall... That's got to be a first.
"You're going to get on the Hogwarts Express. It leaves in fifteen minutes. I made sure to get us here early, so you could get a good compartment. Now.." My father turned me towards him, so I had to look into his face. He looked way too exhausted. "I know this sucks for you." Way to go, Dad! Congratulations, one problem down, fifty million to go."But it's for the best. If you don't train it, you'll cause mayhem. Not that you don't already." He gave me that cute fatherly grin thing that makes you want to hug him.
"But did we have to come here! It's bloody England, Dad! Don't they have magical schools somewhere within three thousand miles from home?" Really, that flight sucked. If you've ever flown that far, you know what it does for the neck. Not so good, if I do say so myself. I'll have to call the chyropractor when I get there.
"McKinsey... just follow the others' lead. Plus, you're already starting to sound English."
"Dad." I gave that talking-to-a-three-year-old-with-way-too-much-patience voice. "I'm not english. I'M GERMAN! AMERICAN! What are you on, man!"
Laughing, he shoved me onto the train. "Just go, you little ball of annoyance." Now really! I'm not that annoying! Well, okay. I can get on people's nerves. But I'm not a ball of it! Hell no.. ball equals bad.. How about... cylindrical? Yes, that's better.
We gave the trademark father-daughter goodbye scene before I lugged my 'trunk' up the train steps and down the corridor. I'm beginning to regret letting my hair grow out. But hey! Swim practice paid off. Lean shoulder muscles. At least I didn't bang around and make a racket of my getting down to my compartment. Speaking of which...
OHH! Sliding doors! Too bad they aren't electric... that's would've been nice. Oh My God. Cheap train, flaking paint, old wood, manual sliding doors.
O.O
I'm going to a junk school.
LORD SAVE ME!
