Room 304, Friday Afternoon
With only one class Fridays, Angela often spent the afternoon in quiet reflection.
Or napping. They were about the same thing.
But today, she woke up from the nap
She was back in her old high school, wearing a flannel shirt she had loved in tenth grade. Ricky was by her side, but she couldn't hear anything he said.
She saw Marty, wearing a suit, polishing a gun, and ran to him, but her feet stuck to the floor. Finally she found him -- and he barely looked up. "We're through," he said, his voice echoing. He barely glanced up.
"Why?" she screamed, grabbing at his arm. "Why?"
"You're too ordinary," he told her. "Go back home and quit bothering us."
When she looked around, she saw that everyone from Fandom was there, staring at her. Nodding. Agreeing. She yelled, tried to tell them they were wrong, she wasn't like that -- but no one cared.
She woke up crying.
[OOC: Door is open.]
Or napping. They were about the same thing.
But today, she woke up from the nap
She was back in her old high school, wearing a flannel shirt she had loved in tenth grade. Ricky was by her side, but she couldn't hear anything he said.
She saw Marty, wearing a suit, polishing a gun, and ran to him, but her feet stuck to the floor. Finally she found him -- and he barely looked up. "We're through," he said, his voice echoing. He barely glanced up.
"Why?" she screamed, grabbing at his arm. "Why?"
"You're too ordinary," he told her. "Go back home and quit bothering us."
When she looked around, she saw that everyone from Fandom was there, staring at her. Nodding. Agreeing. She yelled, tried to tell them they were wrong, she wasn't like that -- but no one cared.
She woke up crying.
[OOC: Door is open.]