Wrote, and this developed!
Make it good, eh? And keep it crazy.
Trilby was a one man army, if she had been male; if she had been an adult.
Being neither of these, Trilby was a young girl faced with the challenge of fighting a battle against an enemy twice as large as her's, or more accurately, twice as tall.
Did I neglect to add, "if she had been human"?
It was again that she was under suspicion. She had pointed ears and was not 4 feet in height, but was ready to be in high school. Her vocabulary was huge and strange, and so was her accent, which sounded something African and Icelandic combined; she reportedly had only four toes, talked to animals (with success), and was telepathic.
It was lies, though, Trilby knew; those powers were reserved until she was at least forty, and her toes were perfectly normal, was all the confusion spread by her race really worth such torment?
She was cornered, literally; she had been sitting with Alice again by the front wall, under the chalkboard, then Angel sat down next to her. Then she asked in a way that would make one think it was a perfectly reasonable question, to ask to see her toes.
No, said Trilby, she'd prefer not perfume the room.
Angel laughed, and Jerry turned around to ask her, with a laugh halfway in his throat as well, what was so funny.
Then his friends had their attentions drawn to watch him listen to Trilby answer, and Angel answer, and back and forth; Trilby developing such a profound mixture of scornful sarcasm that a group gathered. She was not being defensive, yet she was becoming awfully irritated on a subject that required the easy answer of "I am not an elf." They were joking before, then teasing. Now they were interrogating.
A leg of Jerry's desk cracked.
The desk toppled and thunked; Angel nearly had her leg impaled. Papers, books and binders clattered to the floor. The commotion drew eyes, then legs. The twins at the back of the room stood up. Trilby cursed in a language that most definitely foreign, which did not help. Alice, who had been trying to start a conversation on the assignment Mrs. Raydahl had given them before leaving the room, gave up.
"Tril did it, Tril did it!" said Angel, jumping up, hitting her head on the chalk tray, and looking at Trilby as if she were responsible for that too, while the room expounded with the sound of everybody exclaiming something to a friend simultaneously.
"Dude, chill," said Richard from the back of the room.
"Stop picking on Trilby, eh?" said Robin, which was met with agreement.
Angel was laughing and staring. "You broke school property."
Trilby twisted her head sharply and (as it seemed to those watching her) painfully, relieving Jerry from her glare and tense features. Someone watching her would say that it was not only her expression, but something else superhuman that made themcringe.
"I did do nothing of the type."
But somebody had noticed the melted metal on the table leg."Oh my God, it's still steaming!" cried Marie. Trilby thought to herself that it was not, it was only hot, so don't touch that metal Marie, I don't mean any harm to you.
There was not a single person who was not surrounding the chalkboard by this point. They were kneeling around the desk, staring keenly at the stump of the leg and what remained attached to the table. Trilby decided to stand up and was immediately assaulted with senseless questions and stares of disbelief.
So she is an elf...!, a thought that prompted quiet astonishment for most, and for the rest to gather around poor Trilby, who was denying things as fast as she could and beginning to panic.