A Song of Ice and Fire

#6 My heterochromia is starting to "act up" if you know what I mean....

I sank down to my chair after lunch, Lavender had enough stamina to last a 8km bicycle marathon. Twice.

All she did was run around like a four-year old, occasionally pointing and squealing "OOOOH, pretty !!!" at random things( mostly in pastel shades)

It took me atleast three tries to convince her that screaming in class to get the teachers' attention was never a good idea. And she was smart, though only about random, unknown trivia, like what the sounds of wind brushing through trees are called.

Physical Ed.  was always at the end of the day. So when your all sweaty, you have a nice, hot shower and go to bed. You wouldn't have any energy to stay up anyway. Unless. . .

You eat 5 apples a day the way I do, but that's irrelevant.

I sulked under a tree after being punished to twenty push-ups (since 10 doesn't seem to be satisfying enough) .

Just because I don't like the P.E uniform doesn't mean I don't want to play. They make you wear sleeveless white shirts and shorts. Disgusting.

Lavendar didn't seem to yield to fatigue of any kind. She was busy skipping like a pro, which caught her quite the attention. Good for her.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" I heard someone cry from behind me.

Apparently Alison Grey had left her history project in the school attic. Now me being well.. me, I sat next to my tree and began to doze off when again, I hear this banshee cry.

"Oh god, want am I gonna do". Well, I don't know but, for starter you could go get it.

But instead she starts to cry. Irritating

The irritation was too much for me to handle. There was a solid ten minutes before the class was over and history began so I got up and ran up the stairs and somehow managed to find the blasted attic.

After I went in to the attic through a door that wasn't covered by the insurance. For sure.

The old wood opened with a creepy creak. And the scent didn't help either. The place was covered from ceiling to floor in dust and god knows what. If I was correct the item I was searching for is a mirror, but the small kind.

After endless search I found a hand mirror about ten inches long seated on a flea- infested armchair.

And that's where I found it. Standing aimlessly in the middle of the room. It wasn't covered by linen or dust and seemed to be in mint condition unlike certain other stuff up here. The mirror was made for someone short, it made me look like a giant. It was a Victorian mirror, made out of tempered steel.

The surface of the mirror gleamed once and behold. Despite it being pretty dim I could see myself just fine. Everything looked as it was, my hair still short and choppy, if anything it was more gravity defying; my jeans and jacket were as they were: faded and black.

But my eyes. Oh my eyes.

The one on my right, the dark one was fine but my left one. It's usually a light shade of amber but now it was raging crimson. Like fire.

I tried very hard blinking it away but all it did was make things worse. The whites of my eyes were turning black. This made it even harder to see my dark iris. And that's when the ringing started. Like a low whistle. That's how it started any way. Then it turned in to a ear piercing screech and all this time I was standing there, my legs unwilling to even move.

I clutched my ears lunged the hand mirror speeding through the air.

And I ran.

The last thing I heard, was able to hear, was shattering glass.

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