Kondachrome (Open)
Jul 2, 2010 9:58:19 GMT -5
Post by Amelia Blane on Jul 2, 2010 9:58:19 GMT -5
Amelia stared at the pile of luggage that was stacked in front of what was apparently supposed to be her new bed with an intensity that could have lit the room on fire. Luckily for all parties involved she had no powers that enabled her to do so (and she hadn't brought with her any matches either). For the first time since that faithful day she had received a letter from the Hammel Institute, she actually wished that she did have some sort of special power, which of course wasn't the case. Right at this very moment the ability to teleport or even to fly would have been welcomed, however.
Sighing she sat down on the edge of the unmade bed and stared out into the empty hallway that was visible through the open door. She was supposed to share this room with three other girls. Merely this idea had her worrying. Amelia had grown up as an only child, and while she didn't consider herself to be spoiled, she did like her privacy. Besides, there would probably be a real reason as to why all of her room mates were at the Institute, and the idea of sharing a room with someone who turned into a were-bat or something like that was not a welcomed thought at all.
She had avoided unpacking for while already. Somehow putting her clothes into the closet and positioning her things around the room would make her stay at the school feel so final, something she was still very adamant to make sure that it wouldn't become. A week, she kept telling herself, that's all they're going to need to realize that they've made a mistake by dragging her there. Then she would go back home, forgive her parents for their terrible assumption about her being a freak and go on with her life as if this sorry chapter of it didn't exist.
A whole week was a bit long to live out of her suitcases, however. Biting her lower lip she bent forward and unzipped one of the duffel bags positioned on the floor before her. The first ting her hands closed upon was her ballet shoes. She picked them up without thinking and placed them in her lap. Did they have dancing lessons at this school? Probably not. She could already imagine the time table. "Misfit Sociology 101", "How not to set yourself on fire", "Design your own spandex costume".
Smiling a little she subconsciously let her fingers trail around the edge of her shoes. She would miss her dancing lessons if there wasn't any offered here, but at least it had seemed as if the school had a fairly big gym from her short and superficial tour of the place.
Suddenly she became aware of footsteps approaching, and without thinking she held her breath wondering if it would be one of her future room mates dropping in, or merely another student or teacher passing in the hallway.
Sighing she sat down on the edge of the unmade bed and stared out into the empty hallway that was visible through the open door. She was supposed to share this room with three other girls. Merely this idea had her worrying. Amelia had grown up as an only child, and while she didn't consider herself to be spoiled, she did like her privacy. Besides, there would probably be a real reason as to why all of her room mates were at the Institute, and the idea of sharing a room with someone who turned into a were-bat or something like that was not a welcomed thought at all.
She had avoided unpacking for while already. Somehow putting her clothes into the closet and positioning her things around the room would make her stay at the school feel so final, something she was still very adamant to make sure that it wouldn't become. A week, she kept telling herself, that's all they're going to need to realize that they've made a mistake by dragging her there. Then she would go back home, forgive her parents for their terrible assumption about her being a freak and go on with her life as if this sorry chapter of it didn't exist.
A whole week was a bit long to live out of her suitcases, however. Biting her lower lip she bent forward and unzipped one of the duffel bags positioned on the floor before her. The first ting her hands closed upon was her ballet shoes. She picked them up without thinking and placed them in her lap. Did they have dancing lessons at this school? Probably not. She could already imagine the time table. "Misfit Sociology 101", "How not to set yourself on fire", "Design your own spandex costume".
Smiling a little she subconsciously let her fingers trail around the edge of her shoes. She would miss her dancing lessons if there wasn't any offered here, but at least it had seemed as if the school had a fairly big gym from her short and superficial tour of the place.
Suddenly she became aware of footsteps approaching, and without thinking she held her breath wondering if it would be one of her future room mates dropping in, or merely another student or teacher passing in the hallway.
