Post by Monique on Jan 18, 2006 19:13:33 GMT
So tired. So very tired.
It was more than an exhausting day for Monique. She had been exposed to the truth about her heritage, her parents, and her own future in the span of 24 hours. Attending junior high, as a regular preteen, was a piece a cake compared to this. This strange kind of life that she now had to take the reigns of was stark and sudden. Uncertain of her surroundings and even of her identity, Monique sternly refused to accept what she was being forced to become.
Walking slumped shouldered, Monique yawned as she approached the large door that blatantly sung ‘entrance’. With a coy grin, she muster up the last bit of energy her weary body apprehended, and pushed hard on one of the wooden doors. With a loud creek, it slowly swung open to reveal the interior of this supposed ‘magic school’ she would be attending for the remainder of her school career.
Just last night she was informed by her loving parents that she was in fact a witch. A witch! Like one of those ugly, wicked creatures that flew around on brooms, charmed felines, and brewed up a variety of spells. For some reason, her parents didn’t seem to care for her description of such a character, but Monique wasn’t exactly in the most compassionate mood after what they had told her. They had tried to explain to her that it was an honor to be a witch or wizard like them, and that their family was full of brilliant magic-doing people. What were her parents thinking? How was she supposed to believe this…rubbish!? She had grown up with not a stitch of magic…and now, she was suppose to act like it was never a secret kept from her? Utter rubbish.
The heels of her stylish cloud hoppers scuffled across the gray withered stones beneath her as she strolled timidly into the large, dimly illuminated chamber. Monique has a prettiness to her that rare had. Her fresh, round face was full of expression, and she wasn’t afraid to show it. A few sprigs of pastel pink and blue locks mingled with mostly glossy white tresses that abundantly tumbled from her head, passed her shoulders to the middle of her back. Clothed in a crisp jean jacket shingled with an array of patches, a light blue camisole underneath, and a pair of faded flair jeans, she looked quite out of place among the few students that occupied the spacious room in formal looking robes and uniforms. Brushing a few stray strands of silvery white strands from her amethyst eyes, she blinked repeatedly to gain her focus in the dark surroundings.
Her mom had mention something along the lines of a ‘muggle’ to her before she boarded the train. Her eyebrows gathered at the bridge of her nose as she thought of that insane mother of hers.
"You were raised a muggle, so you must try extra hard to blend with those who are of wizarding decent. If you don’t, you’ll find school and social events more difficult than expected. Please, be polite Monique." Her mother’s words were trapped in her head, swimming about in an uncertain mix of confusion. Monique didn’t want to be here.
"What the bloody hell is a muggle?" She murmured out loud to herself before dropping her heavy duffle bag to the floor.
ooc: Open to anyone.
It was more than an exhausting day for Monique. She had been exposed to the truth about her heritage, her parents, and her own future in the span of 24 hours. Attending junior high, as a regular preteen, was a piece a cake compared to this. This strange kind of life that she now had to take the reigns of was stark and sudden. Uncertain of her surroundings and even of her identity, Monique sternly refused to accept what she was being forced to become.
Walking slumped shouldered, Monique yawned as she approached the large door that blatantly sung ‘entrance’. With a coy grin, she muster up the last bit of energy her weary body apprehended, and pushed hard on one of the wooden doors. With a loud creek, it slowly swung open to reveal the interior of this supposed ‘magic school’ she would be attending for the remainder of her school career.
Just last night she was informed by her loving parents that she was in fact a witch. A witch! Like one of those ugly, wicked creatures that flew around on brooms, charmed felines, and brewed up a variety of spells. For some reason, her parents didn’t seem to care for her description of such a character, but Monique wasn’t exactly in the most compassionate mood after what they had told her. They had tried to explain to her that it was an honor to be a witch or wizard like them, and that their family was full of brilliant magic-doing people. What were her parents thinking? How was she supposed to believe this…rubbish!? She had grown up with not a stitch of magic…and now, she was suppose to act like it was never a secret kept from her? Utter rubbish.
The heels of her stylish cloud hoppers scuffled across the gray withered stones beneath her as she strolled timidly into the large, dimly illuminated chamber. Monique has a prettiness to her that rare had. Her fresh, round face was full of expression, and she wasn’t afraid to show it. A few sprigs of pastel pink and blue locks mingled with mostly glossy white tresses that abundantly tumbled from her head, passed her shoulders to the middle of her back. Clothed in a crisp jean jacket shingled with an array of patches, a light blue camisole underneath, and a pair of faded flair jeans, she looked quite out of place among the few students that occupied the spacious room in formal looking robes and uniforms. Brushing a few stray strands of silvery white strands from her amethyst eyes, she blinked repeatedly to gain her focus in the dark surroundings.
Her mom had mention something along the lines of a ‘muggle’ to her before she boarded the train. Her eyebrows gathered at the bridge of her nose as she thought of that insane mother of hers.
"You were raised a muggle, so you must try extra hard to blend with those who are of wizarding decent. If you don’t, you’ll find school and social events more difficult than expected. Please, be polite Monique." Her mother’s words were trapped in her head, swimming about in an uncertain mix of confusion. Monique didn’t want to be here.
"What the bloody hell is a muggle?" She murmured out loud to herself before dropping her heavy duffle bag to the floor.
ooc: Open to anyone.
