Lavender Is My favorite.

Three

We moved; again.

This time to a house.

I've never been here before, we had to go in the car. It was a 10 hour drive. I'm beyond tired.

It's a place called Mistique.

It's a strange name, but I looked up the place. It turns out that there used to be several tribes that went and left. They have underground train tracks, it was there since the late 1800's.

It's pretty creepy.

Nonetheless, the fact is we have a new home is just unsettling. One of the reasons is because it's really big. It's like the one you see in those movies.

don't really like this place it's so bland.

It leaves a weird taste in my mouth... somehow

Another thing that bothers me is,

School

We have to wear uniforms.

Grey jeans, white polo's and brown shoes.

No make-up, showing inappropriate things, and no cursing. Really?

No.

This is going to suck ass.
-
School.

I was in the halls, retrieving my books for my next class.

The lockers were beige, the floors were white, and so was everything else.

Ewwww.

I really wanted to draw, but I was bombarded with work, so I had no time.

I went to my Algebra class.

I sat down in one of the middle seats.

Soon, everyone piled in.

The teacher had just started teaching the class. I didn't really think much of her. She was just as bland as all the teachers I've had so far.

I have a headache. I closed my eyes for a minute to see whether it would help me.

"Miss Winters!" I heard a voice, Ms.Cirque. (Italics , or bold)

I opened my eyes immediately.

"I wasn't sleeping," I replied.

"Of course you weren't." She scoffed.

Sarcasm is my thing...bitch.

"Pay attention," she told me.

Such a rude bitch.

******

Several minutes later I'm still bored.

Time to draw.

I took out my sketch pad and a pencil.

Then, my head hurt again.

This time I saw something.

A boy: Handsome

It stopped.

I've seen it all before. I've had that image in my mind since I started drawing. Well, not when it started, more like when I started actually drawing well.

I couldn't control myself.

I had no control.

I had to draw.

It was taking over me.

My heart was pumping, I could feel the adrenaline running through my veins. I felt at home. I was sweating.

My hand was doing all the work. My brain was letting my hand know the job that had to be done.

It was a rush. I've never felt so good about my drawing-

"Ms. Leann Winters!" The teacher called on me, causing me to drop my sketch pad and pencil, and my hand was still moving in circles.

She approached me, her features become more defined.

She had black hair with white streaks. Her shirt was identical to mine, but a blouse. She looked around her late 50's.

Old; grouchy.

She picked it up, my sketch book.

Her eyes bulged out of her sockets.

"In the office now!" She was extremely loud. I snatched my sketchbook, and bolted out of the classroom.

What the hell happened?