Nushi stood at her locker, watching her peers stare at her as they passed. She took a book from her locker, absently sticking it in her satchel. It was obvious that it would be difficult for her to make friends here. Everyone seemed to be very preppy and sophisticated. She could see past that easily, but she wasn�t very sure that her peers would see past her differences to who she really ways. Closing the satchel and securing it, she turned, pushing her locker door shut. With a spin of the dial it was locked, and she was on her way to her first class.
The halls were crowded. As she searched aimlessly for room 225b, students bustled past, oblivious to the distant look in her eyes. Nushi imagined her new school as a strange and unfamiliar society of trolls. A freshman brushed past her, knocking the satchel from her shoulder without even realizing what he did. Through her eyes, all Nushi saw was a hairy troll, hunched over and hobbling to his next class. The troll carried a dead fox over its shoulder instead of a backpack. The image made her chuckle.
Perhaps it was time for something different in her life. Nushi paused, staring at the numbers above the door she was nearest: 224a. She was getting close. Lifting her hand to her lips, she stood in silent contemplation. What did the trolls want of her? She wasn�t sure. She could conform: become one of their smelly, rancid kin. She could rebel. Rebellion struck her more powerfully than conformity.
In every school she attended, the same question always arose: rebellion or conformity? Nushi has yet to choose conformity. She stared at the gold plated �224a� in silence, letting the trolls walk around her as if she were a piece of furniture. None confronted her. None approached her. She almost wished they would speak to her, but she was sure the stench would overpower her. She didn�t want to pass out before her true test began.
Her world of trolls and caves shattered as an unknown force suddenly pulled her head back. She grabbed her braid at the nape of her neck, gasping loudly and spinning on her heel. Yanking the hair from beneath the foot that had stepped on it and tripping the boy who was unfortunate enough to have stepped too close, Nushi growled. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the boy who was now on the ground.
�What insolent troll dares to step upon my magnificent mane of hair?�
The young man blinked, staring up at Nushi in shock and terror. He was easily three years her junior and as nervous from the stress of school as one could possibly be. She stooped beside him, grasping the collar of his shirt in her fist. She stood again, pulling him up with her. The boy stumbled to his feet, books spilling from his backpack. He watched Nushi with wide eyes, yielding to her pull in fear of his own safety.
�Swine! One should always treat a warrior with respect.�
She released his collar, pushing the freshman away. Retrieving her satchel (which had been dropped during this exchange), Nushi flicked her wrist in an absent gesture. Kicking her braid behind her, she turned, sauntering down the hall. She reached room 225b, finally. Closing her eyes, she placed her hand on the door handle, taking in a slow breath. How she loved role-playing. She could be the haughty, arrogant warrior princess and the noble, aloof wanderer all in the same hour. She opened the door, stepping into the classroom.
Now she was ready for her next adventure.
Homeroom
First Period