Creative Writing

[Ryuu]

The teacher returned the greeting Ryuu gave, as his eyes darted to Gabriel for a split second, before returning to back to their original spot, as he took a seat beside Ryuu. A girl then came in and sat down beside Gabe, they knew each other apparently. Another guy with blue hair then came in, sitting opposite Ryuu, Gabe, and the girl at their table. A guy with green hair then came in, and sat in the middle, then came in Kate, who knew the guy in the middle, calling him a nerd. Then came in Damien, and sat down by Kate, he knew her, though when and how, Ryuu didn't know, or cared to find out. Then came in Delilah, as Ryuu gave her a nod, she took a seat at one of the unoccupied tables, and began to read a book. A guy with interesting eyes then came in, sitting down beside Delilah. Trizen then came in, as Ryuu smiled sadly at his friend, who had become completely blind, after the incident with Mr. Orange. Adrian then came in, sitting beside Kate, and then came in Ms. Crazy herself, Sara, who glared at the teacher. Class then started, as the teacher introduced himself as Reggie Kamp, and if they wanted to, to come back, since he was the librarian for the school, and was always lonely along with his cat, who was named... Kitty.

Go figure. He then explained that their teacher wasn't here, so he'd be teaching them, though his specialty wasn't proper English, it was how to express themselves through various forms of creative writing. He then asked them to take a piece of paper and write their name, an interesting fact about themselves, and then a story about themselves. Ryuu then pulled out a piece of paper, and then began to start on the lesson, but saw Trizen rise up and ask if there was a way to do this without writing, as Ryuu nodded his head slightly to himself, Trizen was blind now. Just like Thirteen. But Ryuu wanted to finish his first, before helping Trizen out. Writing down his name, that he played guitar, and a story about himself, Ryuu got out of his seat, and moved to Trizen, and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Easy, it's me Trizen. Here, let me help you alright?" Ryuu said, as he placed a piece of paper down on the table, and wrote down Trizen's name, and waited for his friend to tell him what to write down for him.

[Hiyami]

Hiyami had been running late all day. She couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why. Perhaps it was just an unlucky day? Whatever the case, she was already several minutes late when she finally made it to the classroom to see the note and the map. At the sight of the map, she nearly cried - she was horrible with directions! - but did her best all the same.

It took her about three or four more minutes to get to the Library - which was really bad, actually - but she blamed that on her lack of sense of direction. At the same time, though, she could easily blame it on the few people she'd asked for directions. They didn't stop talking. It was horrible. She didn't want to offend them - they'd been kind enough to give her directions and all - so she'd been forced to listen.

As it was, she finally rushed into the library, thankful that between jeans and a T-shirt, not much could go wrong with one's appearance.

She followed the arrows - very, very grateful that they were there - and found the platform on which all the tables and whatnot were set up. So many were already there! She couldn't help but feel stupid.

As it was, she felt awkward. She paused as she heard him getting out his last sentence, mourning the fact that she'd have to ask what she'd missed and make him repeat it - and then moved up to him, the picture of a dejected and repeatedly kicked puppy.

"I-I-I'm so sorry!" she said, entirely sincere. "I was late to the class, and then I got lost twice coming here, and I'm really sorry, but the people I asked for directions wouldn't stop talking and it's all my fault, and I'm so sorry I'm late!"

She paused, head bowed, "I... Um, what's my..." She really didn't want to ask this because the question was usually answered with something harsh. Not asking it, however, was often followed up by severe beatings. "What's my punishment? And what did I miss?"

A flicker of pain ran across her face, not because of an injury or sudden pain, but because of some rather harsh memories. Still, the thoughts filled her head, hoping, praying - begging - for a punishment that wasn't so horrible.

[Sara Quinn]

Sara pulled out a piece of paper and glared down at it as she chewed on the end of her pen. The last time she had been asked to write something a piece of paper she had gotten into trouble. Her eyes flicked up to the teacher. He looked nicer then the other one though.. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad... She could try... Damn, high school was stupid =_=" Why the hell did she need to graduate anyways...? She put the pen to the paper and began to write whatever came to mind.

Name: Sara Quinn
Age: 18
Mood: NOT HAPPY D<

So I was asked to write a story in one of my classes. For the life of me I couldn't think of what to write. It was so much harder then it needed to be. The teacher hadn't given us enough information about what the hell we we're doing, and it only served to make me that much more infuriated. So I looked around and thought.... What the hell am I going to do? Thankfully, I had a bomb in my bag. I smiled evilly, laughing softly as I planned my next move. Standing, I looked around at the confused faces that turned to me, waiting so see what I was doing. I jumped on to the desk in front of me, my bag in hand and smiled, realizing just how to get the hell out of this class without writing this story. Not only that, but I probably wouldn't have to come to school for a week after this while cleaned up the guts and brains out of the demolished rubble of what was once the school.

I pulled the small box out of my bag and pressed the small red button on top. I then threw it into the center of the desks and ran for it as the bomb behind me exploded. I dove for the exit, just making it out as the screams of my classmates pierced my ears like a thousand angels singing

Sara put down her pen and dropped her head onto the table. What the hell was wrong with her? She was probably going to get another detention for this.

[Trizen Takano]

While dead air filled the bit of space after the question, Trizen put his hand back down. He heard one or two people already writing on their sheets of paper and the boy was left with the cold satisfaction of knowing he was going to fail his first assignment. And he didn't even have to study for it. It urked him. Clearly. Though fell to sinking his head into his shoulders and left despaired for a moment.

Then there was a hand on his right shoulder. Trizen was startled. He wasn't used to being this unaware. This off-guard. In all honesty, it frustrated him, and it was clearly visible on his face when the hand touched his shoulder.

"Easy, it's me Trizen. Here, let me help you alright?"

It was Ryuu. Now Trizen was really embarrassed. Were his feelings really that easy to read? Either they were or Ryuu was the one that answered Trizen's question from earlier. The fifteen year old felt like he was at such a disadvantage, but he knew it would have been stupid for him to try and use the blindness as a scapegoat. It would ultimately break the discipline he had been taught all along his life: If one lived in a world without excuses, what would you do? So, Trizen did the next best thing.

"Thank you, Ryuu. I really appreciate this." The boy said behind his slim dark shades and smiled with a nod as a show of thanks.

Hearing his friend shuffling some paper and getting things ready, Trizen noticed a blur of sound walk in the room. She must have been the one who caught Mister Kamp's attention as opposed to answering his question. That would explain things, surely. But that was that. He didn't really have much to go on besides her sounding out of breath and nervous. But oh well. On to answering questions.

"Well, you know my name.. Trizen Takano. Um.. you could put that I'm fifteen and my favourite artists right now are Hiromi Uehara, Q-Tip and Esperanza Spalding." He felt that balance was nice. Hiromi and Esperanza being two different sides of the Jazz realm while Q-Tip sowed up the middle with Hip-Hop. It wasn't every day someone used Kurt Rosenwinkle or Norah Jones on a track or two. It would have been clear Trizen loved The Renaissance album. "Umm... a story about myself? Hmm... well, when I was young, there was a monk that came to our village. He told my family that it was between me and another young boy who would become an influence in changing the world, though we would both take different paths. I don't know who the boy is because we moved from the village before I was old enough to remember. And if we're both taking different paths, then I guess mine would be here in America while his is back in Japan. We'll find out how things go when we grow up. Is that alright for you, Ryuu? Did you catch all that?"

[Adrian]

Adrian listened to the enthusiastic teacher as he greeted the student who came after him, which was, of course, Sara Quinn, who seemed to share all his classes with him. Adrian bit his lip somewhat in apprehension as the man began his class. Whereas Winklewood's spark and life seemed born of pure happiness and joy to be alive and in the world of education, somehow, this teacher just seemed.... weird.

Adrian shrugged it off, knowing that, for better or for worse, he'd have to ride this class out anyway. Creative writing wasn't exactly one of his forte's. He was a good speaker and a persuader, and could come up with a speech or two given enough time to prep, but writing creatively, as in from the imagination, that would take some work. And now, this guy wanted Adrian to write short stories? And poetry?!

Despite his general desire to not rock the boat in the classroom, Adrian wrinkled his nose as the man spoke of writing poetry and lyrics. He managed to restrain any snorts of other sounds of derision, but it was with great difficulty.

Moving on, Mr. Kamp told them all to take out a piece of paper and write their name, some information, and a small story about them. This, this wouldn't have to be so hard. Adrian had enough true-life stories already in his short years that this wouldn't be hard at all. He produced the necessary utensils, and began to take down his information.

Name: Adrian Hanlon

Some Information: I'm 16, I like money, and I have very little desire at all to write poetry or lyrics. I'd prefer to save that for Shakespeare.

My Story: Once, I was totally rich. I had so much money it would probably turn out that the entire lump sum of everyone in this room's yearly income, excepting perhaps one person, would barely scratch the surface of what my family would make in a few months. I was basically swimming in cash, and I got whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Cars, toys, games, clothes, nothing but the best, and nothing but the most expensive.

However, my selfish ways came to an abrupt halt after a chance meeting with my father. He didn't seem to care much for the life I was leaving away from his watchful eye, and decided that, should I stay where I am, he would have be stricken from the family name, and disowned as his son. I did not wish to endanger the friendships and loves I had discovered where I was, so I told the man, in no kind terms, exactly what I thought of him. Sure enough, he was good on his word, and everything that his money had bought me, was now taken away.

So, here I am, homeless, jobless, penniless, taking your class and attempting to be creative. So just bear with me if I seem frank.

Adrian looked at what he wrote, amazed at himself for writing so damned much. His left hand was already beginning to cramp, which didn't bode well for the rest of the class. He shook out his hand, as he blinked a few times at some of the things he had decided to disclose. Normally, he wasn't this open. However, recent events had changed him, it seemed, in many more ways than one.