Azalea~

My self-control nearly breaks in art. I should have chosen something that I totally fail at, like math. I want to look up and participate in the discussion, to comment on my classmates' pictures, and to suggest things. The instruction for class is to paint something dramatic and meaningful. Our art teacher, Lillian, shows us amazing examples that bring tears to my eyes. I want to jump up and praise her use of subtle shading and eye-opening colors. But I can't. I have to act shy and confused. Art is my one weak point. It drive, like a spike, straight through my shy disguise, my over-confident outer shell, and straight into my heart. Sometimes I hate myself for this weakness. Only once have I let it define who I was, and that when Mother was still alive, then I became the new and much improved Azalea; well-polished, patronizing, and almost perfect. Almost. But one can never be perfect. Now I hide behind another disguise, one that seems frightfully easy to fall in to. When art class breaks for lunch, I look down at my painting. It depicts a graveyard; quiet, serene, and haunting. The sun is setting just outside the black gate, glowing like a watery river of colors through the clouds and across the rim of the sky. In the center is a beautiful and graceful marbel cross, with a name etched in it: Teresa Ramona Swidgey. Only, I smudged the name so no one could read it. On the ground in front of the memorial is a single, snipped azalea flower. The painting symbolizes a lot for me; my Mother's death, myself being cut off from the world; the sun setting on a happy family. Lillian walks down the aisle of desks as the bell rings. 

"Beautiful, Azalea," she murmers. 

"T-thanks!" I stutter, pretending to act surprised and pleased, although only feeling hurt inside. As soon as her back is turned, I snap out of my trance. Ripping up the still-wet painting, I shove the pieces into my pocket. There is no time for silly reminescence. As the last tones of the lunch bell ring away into our ears, a new sound splits the air. An emergancy siren! 

~Mira

I freeze as the emergency siren blares into the gym. "Everybody out!" An older boy instructs, calm and collected. No one moves. "You heard him!" I'm surprised to hear myself say. "Get out of the gym!" Every one rushes torward the door. A girl makes a motion to go back for her bag, but thankfully her friend pulls her back. I make sure everyone gets out, even Thomas, who's grinning madly. Finally, I walk out the door and shut it behind me. Once we're out, I pick a few blades of grass and start weaving them, an old nervous habit. Once I'm a quarter way done with a small basket, an announcement is played over the P.A. system. "False alarm everyone, you may proceed back inside." Well that's a relief, I exhale. The question is, who pulled the alarm?

I keep calm, thinking of childhood memories, bubbling brooks, ferns, willows blowing in the breeze. Then, I quickly rush out the door. Art was fun, and I wish that the alarm hadn't gone off. I hear a sound of ripping. I turn around, and another girl shoves something into her pocket, looking distant and sad.... until her expression turns stern. Who is this girl?

hey guys I'

m totally still here but I've had a lot of homework so I ll up date soon! 

Good. The alarm worked. Now, I need to see what is going on.

I walked out of class and wondered who might've set the alarm to go off. I know it was not me, I think of everyone else in this boarding school who might've set it off.

Jacob

~

I sit down at a round plastic table on a round plastic chair next to Finn. I'm still totally confused about the fire drill, but also kind of grateful for it because it got me out of being assigned a homework paper.

I look sideways at Finn. "I was worried for a second I did it. That happens to me a lot... leaning on a fire alarm when I'm half-asleep."

Finn smiles. "Yeah, that happened to me too once."

"Are you one of those people who ends up in crazy misadventures a lot?" I'm not, but I kind of wish I was. It would make life more interesting.

Finn nods. "How did you know?"

"Just a hunch." I head up to the lunch line to get my tray.

I watch as Finn stands and looks around the cafeteria. What's he looking for? He starts to head over to a table of girls. Hmmm... maybe that's something to tease him about? Or a mystery to be solved? 

May~

I wander around the campus, blissfully ignorant of the chaos ensuing at the minute. My art class ended early, so I decided to take a walk in the scenery.  

Ok, I had decided to leave this because Cleo wasn't really an important Charrie. But now... I shall take Thomas too! Mine! All mine! Bwhahahaha. Well, anybody else can RP as him...

And Gared, pretty please can Cleo be a teacher? No one else posts as Lillian, and I refuse to, so why can't Lillian just be gone and Cleo take her place? Cmon, this thread will die without an old Boarding School poster! I was so dedicated, remember? I can HANDLE it. Please, this is the only RP I actually have grown to love and understand... Pwetty Pwetty Pwease? *puppy eyes*

Also, let me point out that you said you would be posting often. You posted ONE TIME. And only to say with your Charrie, "Excuse me, I am the teacher" or something like that. A single sentence.  

Cleo~

I approach Gared. Taking a deep breath, I launch into an explanation why I should replace Lillian. She hasn't shown up at all to school. 

Holding my breath, I await. Will he say yes? If not, I quit and condemn all the rest of Boarding School RPs forevermore to eternal death and inactivity.   

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read the above comment please  

I support Daisy.

YAYAYAYAYAY! I also had another idea. What if the students went to all the classes, but they majored in one? If the students can't be in all the classes, Cleo will, at least, be in PE and Art. Her conflict with Thomas is too good to pass up, and Soren is in PE. 

Also, one last thing: this takes place AFTER the alarm went off.  

Cleo~

I approach Lillian nervously.

"Uh, Lillian? Can we talk?" I ask.

"Sure."

I explain to her about everything. To my surprise, she gets a bigger and bigger smile on her face. When I finish, I look at her.  

"Aren't you- aren't you mad?" I manage to say.

"Heavens, no. I need a break. You can take the job and welcome." With that, she waved and walked away.

I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I walk away, secretly glad I had skipped PE for this. 

Wait; I sighed. It wasn't over yet. I supposed I could at least go peek in and see that handsome boy again that I had seen earlier.

Opening the door cautiously, I peer in and grin grimly. 

Yep, Thomas is making them do quite awful things. I swear, there is a girl in there who looks like she is about to dissolve into hysterics, and a boy looks like he's about to hit Thomas.

Which would be awesome to watch, but a death sentence to whoever did it.

However, I continued scanning the wall. Where was he?

Ah, there he was. Tall, and muscular, and tan, a really cute blonde. He was panting, but patting a girl on the back for encouragement. She was crying. 

Both jealously and pity washed over me; jealous that he might like her and pity for that poor girl.  

I leaned in farther the door, trying to see the boy better, when I heard:

"Cleo Hartsworth!" I jumped and tripped, landing in a heap on the floor. There were several titters.

I blush and get to my feet, only to see that it had been Thomas.

He had seen me and now I was in for it.

First, I was late to class; then, I didn't even participate. Ooh, I was dead.  

Briefly, I considered making a run for it.

But then I remembered I was a teacher now, so I swaggered up to Thomas.

"Yes?" I said, giving him my most brilliant smile.