5 reviews equals 5 mice for the elders.
You see, before you start asking about how Breezepelt doesn't know what he's doing, his frontal mind isn't developed yet, which means he doesn't really know what he's doing until it's too late.
That how my mind works, and I just wanted to add that.
.:Breezepelt's POV:.
The rest of the day went by like a blur. Ivypool had been in every one of my classes and now lunch is ending in ten minutes.
I look at the rest of my schedule. I have fifth period band and then sixth period history. After that, we'll be finished with the first day of school and go back to our dorms to do whatever we want.
I finish eating the pizza and fries that the school serves. There's a lot of choices on food, from hamburgers to this disgusting looking green mushroom salad. Of course, I picked the junk food, since it tastes better.
I sit outside in the lunch shelter with a bunch of random strangers I don't know. They're all laughing for some reason. I wonder what's so funny.
"Hey," a brown haired guy with really noticeable ice-blue eyes says across from me, "Why are you so quiet?"
The other people stop laughing and glances at me. There's five people sitting around the table that doesn't include me– some girl that dyed her pale blond hair with big orange streaks and has green eyes, a dude with black hair spiked up so that he looks like a pine cone, a pale blond boy who yawns and picks at his lunch, this guy that has messy brown hair that can't seem to smile, and of course, that kid with the ice-blue eyes that looks like chips of ice.
"I don't know," I mumble back, tearing nervously at the stryafoam tray that we're supposed throw away.
"What did you say?" asks the girl with dyed orange hair. Her green eyes study me curiously.
The pale blond dude starts laughing for no reason. "Mapleshade, you must be deaf. I'm pretty sure the whole table heard him," he says.
Who the heck are these weird maniacs? I get up to throw my tray away, but the guy with messy brown hair waves me down. I sigh and sit back down.
"What's your name?" he asks. This is stupid, I'm being studied like I'm an alien. I should've sat alone. Maybe I should mess with them a little.
"My name's Fartcloud," I answer, keeping a straight face. The guy with the spiked black hair starts to laugh.
"What? Is that really your name? Do really want to be called that?" asks the pale blond boy. I nod, but after a moment I finally realize what I had just said.
Why the heck did I say that?
"Well, Fartcloud," says Mapleshade, "I'm Mapleshade as you already know, and these dimwits over here are Snowtuft, Tigerstar, Thistleclaw, and Hawkfrost."
She points to each person as she says their name. "We're all seniors except for Hawkfrost who's a junior."
I don't care what grade they're in. Besides, they're old.
"What'd you want me to say?" I ask. This is getting boring. Introductions should be more dramatic. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ivypool handing a girl that looks similar to her a purple purse. Oh yeah, that's the purse I stole. I didn't know that she was still carrying it.
The bell rings. I get up from the table faster than the other people.
"See you later, Fartcloud," snickers Tigerstar. The boy with those bright blue eyes, I think Hawkfrost, joins in with the laughter.
"Yeah yeah, okay," I say as I walk away, slinging my brown backpack over shoulder and leaving the torn torn up stryafoam tray on the table.
Time to go to band. Ivypool and I have the same classes, so I wonder what instrument she plays. I remember that we have auditions the whole period for a solo today. I think it's for all instruments.
I head in the band room. A tall blond man is setting up chairs in a circular row.
"Sit anywhere you like and unpack - whatever instrument you play doesn't matter," he calls as he drags an electric piano over before the first row.
I shrug and take a seat near the back. A few seconds later, people come piling in, most sitting in the first rows or the middle.
Ivypool saunters in, eating a bag of barbecue chips. She freezes when the teacher looks over at her, but he just smiles and a continues setting things up.
Pouring the contents of the whole bag into her mouth, she crumples it up afterwards and glances around to find a seat. She spots me in the back row and sits a chair away from me and puts her dark blue backpack in-between us.
The teacher is still setting things up, and Ivypool chucks her crumpled bag of chips into someone else's open backpack. Everyone is talking so no one notices except me.
"What's up?" she asks, unzipping her backpack to get out her instrument. It's this really long case that I assume it's a flute.
"The ceiling," I reply, looking up to the white speckled ceiling.
"M'kay," she answers back. I watch her open her case to reveal a light silver colored flute with golden keys.
"Is that real gold?" I ask, entranced by the beautiful golden keys. They were dark gold, and are unlike any flute I've seen before.
"I don't know," she replies, "all I care about it that is sounds good. Metal effects the quality of the sound. What instrument do you play?"
"Percussion." Wow, she acts like she's a professional. I guess I have to hear how she plays and then I'll judge.
...After school is over...
Finally school is over. Everyone walks quickly towards their dorms, girls to the left, and boys toward the right. I see Ivypool heading towards the direction of the boys' dorms though. Weird.
After the band audition, I was amazed on how different Ivypool's flute had sounded compared to the other flutes. Not that I really care, but I'm pretty sure that the teacher, Whitestorm, is going to choose Ivypool to be in the front row and is going to play the flute solo thing. Drums are better than wind instruments since you don't have to blow.
She doesn't look like one of those people who just play on instrument. I'm willing to bet that she plays something else too.
Anyway, she's heading towards the direction of the boys' dorms. I wonder why.
I check on the map, it says boys' dorms at the direction where I'm heading. But there's this isolated building on the that's labeled "single dorms."
Oh, I see. Lucky her, she doesn't have to share a room with anyone then. I have to share a room with this sophomore kid from the Shadow team. I think he said his name is Tigerstripe, but I can't be sure.
"Hey Tigerstripe!" I burst into the room and throw my backpack on my bed. Tiger-whatever has taken off his shirt and is flipping through a huge packet.
"My name's Tigerheart," he grumbles. I roll my eyes. At least I got the Tiger part right.
I grab a coke can from the fridge and chug it down and throw it to the ground when I'm finished.
"Really?" Tigerheart glances up at me. "You just throw it to the ground like that?"
I shrug and dump the contents of my backpack onto my bed. "Yeah."
He groans. "You'll have to pick that up later and throw it in the recycle bin. I'm not going anything for you."
"Yeah yeah," I reply, not listening. I'm reading the syllabus packet from science. I skim through it and see a sentence that says, "If I sign this packet, then everything I brought to school is Mr. Dust's."
No way am I signing this. I throw the packet across the room.
"Dude, you're going to lose things like that," Tigerheart glares at me in disapproval. I glare back. "Shut up."
I'm finished with my homework in three minutes so now I take out my laptop and play all the games.
I hate sexism. They think I'm a girl, and a girl can't look athletic, can they? Well according to them, no. It hurts me deeply when my own relatives do that.
I feel so horrible right now that I'm going to die. Probably because of the cinnamon smelling porridge I had before sleep yesterday. My mom made me eat it while is was still warm...which is terrible since I my body doesn't react well to still-warm liquids. Obviously no one understands me.
Especially since now, there's no clouds outside and it's about 80 degrees. To normal people it's kind of okay, but for me, I'm going to melt. I don't know what I'm typing right now...
Ignore all that. No one wants to hear my complaining, and I'm not here to get attention. It feels good just to type it out, and no way am I supporting anymore forums. They only ignore me in return.
QUESTION OF THE DAY
What do you do when you're really angry at someone/thing?
My answer: I would swear and take revenge on the somebody. Something means that I get to smash an apple to the walls and make apple-sauce. (I did that once. Smash apples to the walls.)
Bye and review. I'm getting a huge chunk of ice to eat.
Today is Friday. I think.