New life for Maria Bonaparte.

Alexander's Report

Alexander's day has not been pleasant. It started off with a pop quiz in his first class, Language Arts, which was already his worst subject.

"You're a bit late," the counselor said when he walked through the door.

"Oh, and you're drunk!"

"Tipsy, I'm only tipsy," he muttered as he sank down on the chair in front of their desk.

"Hmm . . . if you say so," They gave him a cheeky smile.

"Now, how did Maria act throughout the day?"

"She. . . she acted oddly, that the best way to describe it,"

"Oddly how?"

"Sometimes she would act sweet and nice, and other time she would get aggravated and scared from nothing,"

"Scared, you say?" the counselor leaned in closer.

"Of bugs, which isn't surprising for a spoiled girl like her. She got one in her hair and completely freaked out. She made comb her hair to find it, and comb it again incase it laid eggs or something,"

He winced at the memory of her high pitched scream. He wasn't a fan of bugs, but he never heard anyone react like that.

After getting the bug out of her hair, he found that he liked to comb through it, though he would never admit it. Even in such low light, her black hair glistened like it was in the sun, and was a much better look than the dull observatory they were in.

"Interesting," they said as they scribbled something down in a book.

"Anything else noteworthy?"

Alexander thought for a moment.

"She acted pretty weird when she went to bed. She looked so scared when I pushed her onto the bed. In complete darkness. While tipsy. Oh . . . maybe she had a good reason to be scared,"

The counselor leaned in closer and waited for his answer.

"Oh, well, she was also pretty scared going into the Training class today,"

"Hmm, I assume it was because of what happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, she said something about not being in a near death experience again?"

"That's an odd choice of words," said the counselor, looking back down at their book to write.

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, just about," He got up to leave, but paused when he remembered something.

"What room is all the old furniture in the observatory meant to be moved to?"

"Those are going into room 615, did you forget already? That'll be bad for your own report too?"

"I have-I have my own report?"

They gave him a mocking smile. "Well of course, Alexander. What, did you think after last year's sexual escapades, you would just be left off the hook?"

He blushed, and the counselor laughed.

"Well, if that's all for today, then you can leave. You do need to sleep off all those drinks,"

Alexander nodded and got up and walked to the door.

"Oh wait, I've forgotten the last step," the counselor said before blasting him with the stone.

His head swirled around and he crashed into the chair.

"Ugh," his stomach was now swirling too.

"Don't throw up, or you'll have to clean it up," the counselor warned.