Bloodstorm [Cameo + Arrows]
Dec 26, 2016 19:40:01 GMT -5
Post by kap on Dec 26, 2016 19:40:01 GMT -5
BLIZZARD O'HANA
The house burned down just a couple weeks ago, so all of it is still fresh in my memories. My parents dying. My older brother going off to live on his own. My younger brother being sent to a foster home different than the one I was sent to myself. All of it was too recent. I didn't care if I had only been in the foster home for a couple of weeks, I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I hated being there with so many other kids. It made me feel as if I wasn't cared about enough. My parents always gave us three kids unconditional love, so I wasn't used to being ignored, or, at least, not having as much attention.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not attention-starved. Sometimes I don't even like getting attention, as I'd prefer to be alone. When no one acknowledges me for a day or two, however, I get quite lonely and wish I had someone to be there for me. Before the fire, my parents would be there for me. Whenever they were busy, I'd always have my brothers. Now, it wasn't like that, though. If I couldn't get anyone to acknowledge me in the foster home, I thought that my best bet would be to go live on my own. That way, even though there wouldn't be anyone there for me, I wouldn't have to deal with anyone that I didn't like, and I wouldn't have to go through the struggles of being jealous of the other kids that got more attention than I did.
Therefore, when it was time for me to go to school in the morning, I packed my school bag. This time, though, it wouldn't be my school supplies in that backpack. It would be the few belongings I still had that I found important to me, as well as a change of clothes. I made sure I was ready before the other kids, and headed out the door. I told my foster mother that I was leaving early for school, and she let me leave. I began to head in the general direction of the school building, but made a detour when I was out of sight of anyone I knew. Diverting down a side street, I walked for about a half an hour. I didn't really know where I was headed, as I got into an area of the District that I had never been to before.
On my journey through the District, I began to feel like I was being watched. Had someone from my foster home noticed me and caught on to the fact that I wasn't going to school? No, they couldn't have. I took extra precautions to go a different route and avoid the way I knew they went to get to their destinations. Trying my best not to think about why I felt like I was being watched, I kept walking. That is, until I found out that I really was being watched. It was a sudden movement that caught my eye and caused me to look behind me. I tried to avoid what came at me, but I couldn't.
A girl had come out from the shadows and tackled me to the ground. How had I let my guard down? I couldn't have possibly been paying so little attention so as to get jumped like this! Hitting the sidewalk hard, I tried to get the girl off of me. She was too strong, though. That was when I realized who she was. I had finally gotten a good look at her face through the messy hair that had fallen in front of it. It was Keres Cheyne. Keres was a rotten girl. She bullied me at school not just verbally, but physically. I would often end up with a black eye because she punched me too hard. That certainly wasn't an unusual happening. I tried to push her off of me, but to no avail. She began driving punches into me, and I could feel as her fist made contact with my nose. Blood spattered and I knew she had broken it. I cried in pain, and called out for help, however, she put her hand over my mouth, trying to silence me. I struggled underneath her, but she had me pinned down. What kind of career was I if I couldn't break away from this thin girl?
Don't get me wrong; I'm not attention-starved. Sometimes I don't even like getting attention, as I'd prefer to be alone. When no one acknowledges me for a day or two, however, I get quite lonely and wish I had someone to be there for me. Before the fire, my parents would be there for me. Whenever they were busy, I'd always have my brothers. Now, it wasn't like that, though. If I couldn't get anyone to acknowledge me in the foster home, I thought that my best bet would be to go live on my own. That way, even though there wouldn't be anyone there for me, I wouldn't have to deal with anyone that I didn't like, and I wouldn't have to go through the struggles of being jealous of the other kids that got more attention than I did.
Therefore, when it was time for me to go to school in the morning, I packed my school bag. This time, though, it wouldn't be my school supplies in that backpack. It would be the few belongings I still had that I found important to me, as well as a change of clothes. I made sure I was ready before the other kids, and headed out the door. I told my foster mother that I was leaving early for school, and she let me leave. I began to head in the general direction of the school building, but made a detour when I was out of sight of anyone I knew. Diverting down a side street, I walked for about a half an hour. I didn't really know where I was headed, as I got into an area of the District that I had never been to before.
On my journey through the District, I began to feel like I was being watched. Had someone from my foster home noticed me and caught on to the fact that I wasn't going to school? No, they couldn't have. I took extra precautions to go a different route and avoid the way I knew they went to get to their destinations. Trying my best not to think about why I felt like I was being watched, I kept walking. That is, until I found out that I really was being watched. It was a sudden movement that caught my eye and caused me to look behind me. I tried to avoid what came at me, but I couldn't.
A girl had come out from the shadows and tackled me to the ground. How had I let my guard down? I couldn't have possibly been paying so little attention so as to get jumped like this! Hitting the sidewalk hard, I tried to get the girl off of me. She was too strong, though. That was when I realized who she was. I had finally gotten a good look at her face through the messy hair that had fallen in front of it. It was Keres Cheyne. Keres was a rotten girl. She bullied me at school not just verbally, but physically. I would often end up with a black eye because she punched me too hard. That certainly wasn't an unusual happening. I tried to push her off of me, but to no avail. She began driving punches into me, and I could feel as her fist made contact with my nose. Blood spattered and I knew she had broken it. I cried in pain, and called out for help, however, she put her hand over my mouth, trying to silence me. I struggled underneath her, but she had me pinned down. What kind of career was I if I couldn't break away from this thin girl?