Us Vs The Evil Lord Of Crazy

My attempt at life. Aka a prologue

First things first: I can't write stories.

I'm going to try that again. I can write stories, but I don't get it. Why do people start at one specific date, if crap like that has happened to them before. Like what's so important about that one single event that they have to write that specific one. I mean I realize I'm writing like this, but my story is a pretty pivotal point in my life. I mean the crap that I'm about to tell/write to you about in this book/story (whatever you want to call it) is a first time happening, but I suppose I may need to give you a little backstory (hopefully you're not afraid of them) before I get into the specifics.

You see, when I was born, I had a serious aptitude for magic, because this somewhat coincidental storm happened that caused crazy powered outages and this giant monster to appear. This Godzilla thing decided that while my mother was in labor with me (and I, being the only child to be born within a 97-mile radius) it was a good idea to send out these drones, that somewhat coincidentally could only go within a 97-mile radius without being screwed up.

Anyway, onedrone found me, and it being about the size of a dust mite, flew right into me. INSIDE OF MY MOTHER. I WAS STILL INSIDE OF HER, IF YOU DIDN'T GET THAT. (Yeah, try to sleep well tonight with that image in your head.) Anyways I was born with, like, the highest magic ability, but only found out about it when I was fifteen, because of a freak accident. More on that later.

So my mum birthed me, after a 22-hour, awkward birth, coming out at an 80-degree angle, my ENTIRE 6/2-POUND BODY BROKE MY MUM'S BUTT. I'm sorry mum. I truly am. But that awkward birth was fitting considering I, myself an awkward, totally insane 15-year-old girl who got stuck in Speciales Exercitia Academy. AKA Hell. Until you get inside. Then it's like tartarus meets the Rolling Stones who are currently having lunch with fireworks stand that just went off.

It's like real school but with magic. But one of the only upsides is that math is replaced with power balance, where we learn how to make our magic stronger through simple equations. Which we solve. With magic. And science is replaced with the science of magic, history is replaced by the history in magic, art is, well still art. Modern Xrocianese (Krow-Shen-ees) is replaced with spells. You know, like what you say for them. And PE is replaced by a giant arena where we have magic battles and learn how to enhance our magic.

Basically the place revolves around magic.

OK, so I was born a intense bright blue-haired girl with tanned skin, blue cat ears (although nobody knows why) and red eyes, which, of course, my parents deemed Xia Cordich. I know. Bad taste right.

I lived pretty much my entire life up to this point with no idea that I was fabulous at Magic, and no idea that I would ever be in the school whose name is too long to write. And too confusing.

I went to a normal school for normal people and lived a somewhat normal life. Until one day, when my kid sister Bria-May decided it was okay to walk in the street in front if a giant trash hover-bot. I, being the awkward person that I am, didn't go after her, but yelled her name and stuck my hand out hoping some magical wolf would stand on its hind legs and save her. But instead you get an odd mix of blue and red, turning the trash-bot to dust, and saving my sister. (Who, by the way, has totally normal brown hair and golden eyes.)

The next day, some guys in uniforms knocked on my door and took me to this classroom where I, and like, two other people were getting tested for their magic ability. I got the highest magic score in history and suddenly got whisked away to Speciales Exercitia Academy where my real story starts.

Anyways, that's all I have for the prologue. Sorry for being who awkward, but this is just my personality, so you're just going to have to live with it.