GiVEN a second chance.

[Dogtail]

given
a second chance.

My brown eyes flash open to welcome morning's golden light. I find myself stripped from the blue fluff known as my sheets, the covers kicked onto the floor. ‘What day is it? More importantly, what time?’ I had asked myself, nearly half awake. I instinctively crawl on the other side of the bed, trying to catch a glismpe of my alarm clock. With a rub of my hand, the sleep was brushed away, and I focused my wary eyes on the digital numbers. 6:42am. A slight groan escaped my chapped lips, realizing this was another day of school. It was, unfortunately, a Thursday morning. Gift School. The thought of what happened yesterday was unbearable. With Jasmine teasing me, along with her little possy of idiots. With that embarrassing moment with my crush and best friend, Tyler. With the scolding comment my ariel gift teacher gave me. I was horrified. My stomach churned with discomfort.

Another day of Gift History didn't brighten my day, either. But, knowing my whines and fears would get me no where, I got up to dress myself for the day. Our school dress code allowed anything with a few minor rules; no extremely high pants, skirts, dresses, etc. Nothing flammable whatsoever. Clothes allowing you to use your gifts was unacceptable and would be replaced instantly with something in the Lost & Found. No potential weapons: rings with hidden points, sharp jewelry, not even pins. Not too much skin showing, because the principal is very aware of the freaks that like their boobs to be all over the place. As in, most of the girls. But me? I would never do something like that. So .. Revolting. So, vile .. So disturbing. My everyday outfit was usually a hoodie and some knee-cut jeans.

But today was special. Today was Annual Gift Day. The only day when students were enabled to use their gifts in the school grounds, provided that nobody and or anything got damaged. So today, I picked out a mid-sleeved gray shirt and a marroon over sweater to go over it. I wore white cargo pants, along with some dark slate gray sneakers. Because on Annual Gift Day, every student had to have a color theme to match their gifts. I had my colors because of my pyrokinesis, which resembled red for fire. Accelerated healing, red for healing wounds and for blood. White was also with accelerated healing, white for bandages. And telepathy was gray, which was for the thoughts. And besides, the outfit was really cute in my opinion. Anyways, I slipped on my ruby necklace over my neck, letting it come to a rest two inches below my collarbone. My fingers weaves a decent braid of dark brown hair, making it seem shorter that it actually was. Now, gift homework time.

“History review? Check. -Kinesis test studying? Done. Strategy five hundered word research? Printed out, read twice, and put in backpack. Gift Arts? Finished. Good, now I'll just run to school so my heart and lungs explode. Wonderful.” I tucked my book in my dark green backpack, shoving it behind my two-inch thick Gift History textbook. I ran downstairs, backpack flung over my shoulder, and grabbed my lunchbox from the kitchen counter. Because at Gift School, they didn't have cafeteria lunches. You brought your own food, considering that the school already pays for damaged things caused from the gifts. So I found it fair. They save money, we don't have to eat crap known as mystery meat. I headed toward the front door, stumbling over my dog's chew toys. Ugh, sometimes I wish I could burst them into flames. Well, I could. But I knew that would be pointless. Not to mention a waste of time.

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