Hello my name is Cherry.

Jeffery Noble's life takes a tail spin for the excitingly, fatal when he accidentally bumps into a girl that one else can see and witness her kill a gargoyle. Afterwards, follows an onslaught of misfortune of this haggard high schooler. His parents go missing, he's nearly killed, not just once, and he discovers a magical world. He finds himself tangled in a revolution that just might be his death sentence.

I don't remember getting dressed that morning. I don't remember hurriedly packing my lunch as my mom rambled on about something to do with me and the time; I don't remember.

I don't remember intentionally missing the stifling smelly bus the school sends around to make sure they keep track of their catch. But I do remember taking this moment to race through the woods that surround my house. Autumn was coming to an end and the large trees where covered in burnt orange leaves fluttering gently on their branch waiting for the winter wind and snow to strip them from their place.

As I ran through the woods, the fresh air rushing past me and the dry leaves crunching under my all-stars I couldn’t tell you how free I felt. I seemed to be lost in a sea of orange and brown, void of the demands of life and school. It was refreshing. I could’ve stayed there all day--but then that would’ve gotten boring and I’d have to find another spot and so on and so on.

I’m a bit of a Vagabond; I can’t stay in one place for too long. It loses its interest to me and I need to find something exciting to replace it. So you can see my dilemma with school.

I kicked an exceptionally large pinecone across the field of orange and sending and array of dried leaves up into my path.  

My mundane life greeted me at the ended of the field, where the trees shattered to an end, returning me to my senses. This time it was in the institutional form of my blah colored school as I emerged from the shelter of the woods. I stopped running, catching my breath. No need to get there sooner, even the bus was taking it’s time in arriving.

I began to broil under my triple layer of sweaters and coat so I pulled of my trench and swung it over my shoulder. This got a lot of funny looks from all the bundled up students loitering in the parking lot catching up on everything gossip. I can’t begin to tell you how much I didn’t care.

I don't remember the dread creep into the pit of my stomach as I pushed open the double doors to my school. Hot air and too many voices greeted me. The smell of lost dreams and the slightest aroma of brainwashing clashed with the ever present stench of despair, born of boredom. As I walked down the corridor I don't remember the feeling of boredom at the prospect of being stuck in this bleak school absent of creativity for most of my winter.

I took off my one of sweater as I stood outside my locker not feeling anything special not feeling inspired to do anything extraordinary this year, I just felt tired and it showed. I stuffed my sweater into the locker along with a select few books that I didn’t need right now. My shoulder bag was still heavy.  

I wished for something new, something excited, something other than this routine school I’d been going to since I was twelve…did you know there's a very famous and slightly true saying about 'being careful for what you wish for’. I don't remember being careful but I do remember wishing.

The End

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