The Warriors

PROLOUGE

To say I was annoyed was probably the understatement of the year.  "What do you mean you want me to pretend to be a teenager?" I ask my father, the head of the council, usually called king.  "I mean that I want you to experience high school, for the sake of your little sister.  She needs you to protect her from all the people wanting to kill her.  You are the one wanting to learn how to fight; I would say this is a perfect opportunity for you to practice."  Somehow, I didn't think learning to fight and being a warrior included me babysitting my little sister during her high school years.  I was older than her by four years, already graduating from college by now.  Knowing I had lost this round, I said nothing more and stalked up to my room.

                "Think of it this way, at least you can acquire some friends who don't always want to kill you," my best friend Larry says as I stomp my way through the double doors leading to my bedroom.  "I don't want friends.  One is enough," I growl, and plop down on my fluffy bed.   "My opinion?  I think you should take this as a chance not only to enhance your skills, but to also pursue your dream of being a fashionable person," he says, plopping down beside me on the bed.  Curling up to him and closing my eyes, I grumble, "It doesn't change anything," and fall asleep.