TIWIS

ALPHA: The Day We Met... 1.1

Coming to think of it, Axel and I weren't exactly the kind of people that normal people would pair as friends, let alone best friends.
Axel is the kind of guy that everyone just liked. He had all A's, and he was the football captain, he also had all the cheerleaders drooling and fighting over him - I mean who wouldn't with a face like that - and if for any other thing, he wasn't like your everyday guy, let alone 'jock'. Axel was just PERFECT.
I on the other hand, well Amber Alphares, despite having a linage filled with great people, didn't inherit any of her ancestral suaveness or intellect. I had fair grades and I have only ever had two Ds, still, in conclusion, I was an average academic. Coming to sports, I was a total zero.
While in Dukladen (*kindergarten), I was always a loner. In Demnesse (*elementary school), I was usually the Ren (*target for other kids) in Thren (*like dodge ball, only the ball used is a machine with monster-like features). It was practically the only part I could play, since all I had to do, was run for my life. Like literally! In Darcia, (*middle school), well Darcia was hell. Those two D's I mentioned earlier, well, I had them in Darcia.
Even as shitty as Darcia was, it was still in Darcia, I met Axel. Still, in summary, I was, and am a typical 'dork'.
The day Axel and I met started like every other day. The sun was scorching my creamy white skin… as usual, the normal jocks that took the bus (*normally we called it the Reddel) hooted foul remarks as they passed me, on my way to school… as usual, the prissy — so-called classy ladies — made fun of my clothes… as usual. Anyways, I — as usual — survived it all in my right mind.
School went on, as I would say great; I had no friends, so there was no one to torture my emotions. Everything was going on well until somewhere between the sixth and seventh periods. I had walked past a jock that hadn’t pretended I didn’t exist or utter a foul or rude word at me. In fact, he even waved at me.
Confused, I walked past, and did something I’d never had to do before — I pretended I didn’t see him — and continued to walk down the hallway. I just assumed my mind was just playing its usual tricks on me. I confirmed it was a trick when he didn’t turn to see why I did not wave back. I stopped laughing at myself when I realized I was already getting late — well as late as a dorky nerd can be — for history.
The History of the Ancients was one of my favourite classes. We just get to talk about what we thought about the Greek gods. And if what you said or reported made any sense at all, you’d at least be sure of a D or even a C–. I have a very vivid imagination, so it wouldn’t be hard to guess I was good with the history and the arts. They were one of the few subjects I succeeded in getting above my average C or C+.
I am going to be a pure artist when I graduate. I wanted to be a writer before, but I found out I do not have the patience for it. Although the arts and crafts weren’t exactly as fun as writing, it was still better than doing anything science.
I wasn’t exactly bad in the sciences of the earth and mind, it’s just that I feel weird at the sight of blood, and the smell of chemicals makes me dizzy. I also have an inexplicable attraction for disaster, so that kind of cancelled out the study of electrical and chemical science. And the last time I tried mind science, another student almost went mad. I was told the student already had a mental health problem and it wasn’t my fault, but I knew better — or I just believed what my mind concocted. Apart from the experimental aspects, I was good at the theoretical part, which was the reason I didn’t fail it since it was compulsory to take them. I just skipped the practical classes.
History of the Ancients went on as normally as it could be, and immediately the bell rung bringing the class to an end, all the students in the hall hurried out to the cafeteria for lunch. As usual, I waited for the hall to be empty before I even started trying to leave the hall. I sluggishly put my books inside my backpack, winking at Miss Berran (the history teacher) as I passed the hall door, and in response, she smiled back. It was obvious I was one of her favourite students. I mean, no one could give a well-detailed report as I did on the war between the gods and the titans. She had once made a comment on one of my papers that she loved reading my reports because it was like reading a direct narration of the events as if I witnessed it myself.