I had been consulting with Lord Death for about 3 weeks now. Once every other day I would call 42-42-564 and talk to him. It was kind of like counseling in school. But less obnoxious like normal school counselors, and the listener appreciated your thoughts much more.
Lord Death finally convinced me to come to the DWMA mainly for support, mentally and physically. My first day was scheduled next week on Monday. I would be following a team around. Who I will most likely see in my first class. Crescent Moon was the class. He said I shouldn’t rely on them as all my support just to tag along and observe till I got a got partner weapon. I agreed it was the smartest choice. I was thinking this all over Sunday night before school. Was I really going to do it? Go to The DWMA?
I woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly relaxed. I stretched. Since I had gone to bed so early I woke up without my alarm, and I had an hour to get ready. I got up and took a refreshing but quick shower. Making sure to feel cleansed of not only grime and dirt but also bad thoughts and weariness afterwards. I brushed my dark champagne blonde hair back into a silk like texture. I pulled into a high ponytail, samurai style. It was thick and still reached past my waist. I put a Death symbol on the holder, I wanted to fit in. I probably wouldn’t make a difference though. But it made me feel better. And, my normal attire of a turquoise crop top with along flowing vest over it, not buttoned. It was slightly in tatters at the end, but oh well, I loved it. I Out on orange short shorts over checker boarded tights, Along with converse. And headphones around my neck in case of later boredom or pain, whichever came first. I finished getting ready and left. Oh damn it I’m gonna die I think solemnly to myself.
As I go into class. I saw who Lord Death was talking about. It was quite easy they all had the same familiar sent of power. I sat next to a kind looking girl that I think fit the description Lord Death put as Maka. I sat down next to her but at a respectable distance. I observed everyone in the class. Understanding weaknesses and strong points based on what they what doing. I calculated the outcome of all battles of them vs. me. The where mostly wins. After these outcomes I relaxed. As Maka patiently watched to professor dissect some animals, I watched amused. Thinking of the lovely pain and crushing sensation in my hands of breaking my ‘devil’s’ (as I had started calling my alternate self) hand. Of the ripping sound of the flesh being torn. All of this was repeated in a miniscule scale by her professors hands and tools. I had no tools then, how lucky of him.
I blinked. Wait what am I saying all that pain was coming back to me. Why would it feel pleasure, I couldn’t understand. I started sobbing. But quickly stopped myself, what would people think if I cried on my first day. Not good. I sniffed and wiped me forming tear before it could fall. No, no more crying ever again unless it’s for s good reason. Class was on over I had introduced myself to the class, for being a new student I got a few nods, whether of disapproval or approval or just a nonchalant nod but I did not care for that matter. The only truly exciting thing worth anyone’s time was the fact by the end of the day.
I had stopped at the end of the hall, near corner. I was so nauseous. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The whole reason she had survived the puncture in my devil’s heart and the devil had not. When it had happened such an excoriating pain went through me, I let out a blood curdling scream. But more than my own life I wanted my other life dead. To she kept stabbing her in her heart before her devil’s breath stopped coming. She thought she would have died right then and there. But no matter how much blood I coughed up and pain the way in. I wouldn’t die. At that point was so hard to breathe and painful that I really quite wanted to do die. So even my devil was dead she kept stabbing the body in any place that seemed to be there in the wring spot at the wrong time. Until she was in so much pain she passed out. Which to my utter dismay, I had indeed not died. But only to find myself fin a hospital wing with none knowing what was wrong with me. Until I as finally let out. Telling them I was fine, the believed since they couldn’t find any wounds. Which confused them greatly, even though I was constantly bleeding.
Then and ether I blacked out in that corner in utter pain. Until a hand grabbed mine, and I was pulled out of my suffering blackness.
