Hey guys thought I'd post my newest fiction (it's originally from my tokoypop page
TOKYOPOP :: Leading the Manga Revolution for 10 Years and Beyond! ::. It's called Angel's Society. If you could please tell me how it sounds since I haven't done a story like this a LONG time.
I think that if we had gone to any other city, any other town, any other school for that matter I may not have been so, for lack of a better word, afraid of my first day of school. But I guess that is what every kid says when they move and they are faced with another normal school. Yet I just couldn't manage to shake the feeling the moment I got up this morning that The International School of the Arts was not a "normal" education establishment, nor was Craneven, Germany a typical city.
I'm pretty sure it all began with the uniform, not just any uniform or some bland skirt and sweater vest, no, this was the all important uniform that spoke of your status everyone I went within minutes of dawning (right word?) it. Everything about the ISA uniform screamed high society, the perfectly cut white blazer, the long sleeved silk shirt in the color of your year, in my case light blue for 3rd years, the custom tailored white slacks with tan and off-white leather belt, and the flawlessly shined black shoes. In fact, it was so perfect that it made me want to scream, to throw on my best beat-up sweater and hole ridden jeans for the shear thrill of the rebellion, but no, I couldn't bring myself to do that not with my first class in an hour and a half. With a finale sigh and glare at the elite ensemble, I trudged into the bathroom and brushed my teeth before combing the long brown locks of hair that hung to my shoulders back into a neat over-the-shoulder French braid. Emerging from the bathroom the uniform didn't look any less untouchable, like something that should be hung up in one of those fancy white bags and kept just for a decorative piece around the house.
"Better get this over with," I heard myself say in a little less than calm voice, there was still some edge of nervousness evident from our tour of the grounds earlier in the week. I wrapped my slender fingers around the hanger giving it one last look as it was removed from the hanger. Ever so carefully I unbuttoned the gold fastens on the blazer and the white knobs on the silk shirt only to slide it onto my muscled shoulders and refasten it. Different. Yes that was it, I had never felt the light pressure of silk before in my life, it felt unbelievably foreign on the sun tanned shoulders of ranch life. As I reached for the next layer my heart seemed to skip, this didn't feel right, again that foreign feeling. With one sharp gulp I threw the blazer on my body in buttoned it in one swift movement. The slacks and shoes were the easiest I had to admit, at least I didn't have to wear a skirt and heels. With long strides, a habit of my height, I moved over to the mirror. I sure wasn't expecting what I saw, a tall girl, brown hair fastened over her shoulder, brown-green eyes, and not looking half bad in the somehow rich colored uniform of high society. I was expecting more of a "rancher in a farerri" comparison. "Well hello there Ashlynn Keating, welcome to your new life," I said to my reflection with more than a underlying tone of awe present.
"Hey Ash!" Bryan's voice carried up the stairs and to my room. "Breakfast is ready, you better hustle if you want to get to school on time." I smiled to myself. Most sisters I knew constantly complained about their siblings, but not me. I loved Bryan to death, we practiced together actually. He'd play his cello and I'd paint whatever images came to mind when he did so, it was a very interesting experience and I always did my best work when he was playing. Lately though we had both been doing sad pieces of art, with our parents halfway across the world from us and hoping that we could make the month's board. Oh well, it would work out. It really was just as he always said, we were given this life because we are strong enough to live it....
"Coming Bry-bry." I laughed starting down the stairs as the scent of pancakes and fruit salad connected with my senses. I could just imagine Bryan grimacing at his pet name, the very reason that it was his.
"You know I hate that Ash," he said with mock hurt as I sat down at the table and grabbed some juice before digging into my pancakes. It took me a minute to realize that my brother was looking at me and another to finally look up.
"Yes? Something wrong?" I asked momentarily worried as his abnormal expression.
"No, nothings wrong to looking at you. You look good Ash, the uniform is very flattering. A bit different and more, pampered, than your riding jeans don't you think?" Bryan finished with a warm smile and a glint of his mischievous nature shining through in his eyes.
I smiled around a mouthful of blueberry pancakes, "You too Bry, a little different than your helmet and motor-cross uniforms correct?" It was true, we did both look different. He looked a lot older, much more than his 15 years. I had a feeling that the girl's would love my muscled, blond haired, blue eyed youngling of a brother.
"You ready?" Bryan asked after a few minutes for silence. I looked at my watch, wow time had flown by we only had 15 minutes to get to our new school.
"Yeah, I guess......." I dragged on the last bit as I got up and grabbed my jacket since it looked like it was attempting to rain. Very uplifting, I thought to myself.
"Gee, don't sound so exited." Bryan joked crushing me under one arm and laughing, although he was 2 years younger than me he cleared me at 6'2". "Come on Ash, it's the first day of school were all we study is art, in a beautiful new country, and no rules for what we are allowed to do after school. You should be thrilled."
"Yes thrilled." I answered as I tried to twist from his grip, it didn't work and only made him laugh harder before letting me go and walking out the door.