I shot upwards, yelling garbled nothings as I frantically looked around my room for the culprit who woke me from my unpredicted sleep. My eyes landed on my mother who stood a few inches behind me, hand over her heart in stifled fright. As I connected the dots, a tired groan escaped my lips and I looked at the laptop before me that had powered off from the night before after hours of neglect.
"Did I fall asleep at my desk again?" I asked, turning toward my mother despite the fact that the answer was quite obvious.
Mom nodded anyway. "Circe, I told you to go to sleep and that you could finish your essay tomorrow. But you said that your transition from a high B to a low A depended on it." She laughed a little, shaking her head, something she always did when she was right about something that someone else had denied. "I doubt you even finished that essay too."
I quickly checked.
I hadn't.
"Well, I just came to tell you that you overslept and missed the bus. So if you plan on going to school, not a suggestion by the way, I think you should get up and get ready because your father and I will be leaving in an hour or two." Without another word, she walked out of the room. Well, actually it was more of a saunter.
I playfully rolled my eyes and looked down at the tee-shirt and shorts I'd been donning last night before I'd dozed off. Though it was a comfortable outfit, it certain wasn't school appropriate. With an exasperated sigh I rolled out of the chair and made my way to the bathroom.
I muttered a silent thank you to the air when I saw the door was wide opened, and not occupied by my father as it normally was on school mornings. Then again, I was late today.
As I observed myself in the mirror, I noted the small bags under my eyes that had come as a result of all my current late night study sessions. They weren't bad, however. In fact, they were hardly noticeable. Of course when I squinted at them...
With a sigh I stopped looking at my face. I picked up my brush from inside the basket that resided on the counter, beginning to brush my hair. It was perhaps one of my more noticeable features, mainly for its color. During my freshman year, I'd had decided that my natural chestnut brown was a little too dull for my liking and, with some wild suggestions from my mother, made the choice to dye my hair white. I left it's roots brown nonetheless. I'd had it that way ever since.
After a couple of blinks to see if I'd properly applied my mascara, I quickly changed into the outfit I'd picked out the night before and raced downstairs, backpack on my shoulder.
My parents were already in the kitchen, getting ready to depart. My dad turned to me before shooting me one of his grins. "Hey Kiddo, think fast!" He threw me a granola-bar, which I barely caught. I looked it over before playfully narrowing my eyes at him.
"This is My Breakfast?" I asked, moodily. "Yep," He began simply with a smirk. "That's what you get when you don't wake up early." I scoffed, earning a chuckle in response. He ruffled my hair as he walked past, making his way to the living room to no doubt get his duffle bag.
We were a...diverse family to say the least. My father was Caucasian. He was tall with brown hair and a stocky built that only came from years of major construction work. He even donned a cliché lumberjack styled beard to match. But despite his rather rough physique, he loved to act quite childish, taking any chance possible to crack a joke or make a jesting remark.
My mother was quite the opposite. She was a short Native woman, Navajo to be exact, with bright, upturned amber eyes and long silky brown hair that she chose to mostly keep pinned up in one single braid that swished behind her when she would walk. She was more mature and tended to have to be the voice of reason in our somewhat playfully chaotic family.
![The Airbone Fate [ON GOING] by cherryplums_sweet](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/388025227-80-k547897.jpg)
And then there was me. I was of Egyptian descent, with light cappuccino skin and intense grey almond-shaped eyes. I'd been adopted at a young age and was a rather clingy child, which was the one fact my parents never failed to remind me of. I'd always complain about boogie men and monsters under my bed. Typical kids stuff.
My mother tossed my father the car keys and he caught them just as he was entering the kitchen on his way to the front door. "Time to go, kids!" she joked as she motioned towards the door. With that, we all loaded into the car and drove off.
_ _ _ _
We'd all decided to drop me off at my school first, since it was, closer and quicker that way. As we drove through the bustling streets of New York, I looked out the windows at the dozens of signs and posters that were hung up on posts and buildings, specifically some of the ones depicting Dorian Grey, the founder and CEO of one of the most renowned EH, or Elementalist Hunter, businesses in the world.
Then I remembered.
Today was Liberation Day. The 120th Liberation Day to be exact. I didn't quite enjoy celebrating the holiday, but I had no choice in the matter, seeing as it was a national one and was practically forced upon the youth of the world.
My father's hands gripped the steering wheel a bit harder. I stiffened.
Here comes a rant
"Sometimes, I wonder what made those people do that." He stated as he gazed upon one giant poster that showed a Hallucikenetic mentally torturing a man. What illusions he was creating using his powers was unknown to the viewer, but based on the way the victim was depicted; wide teary eyes, mouth gaped open in a silent, and pained scream, one could only assume that it was terrifying.
My mother too let loose a silent sigh. "You have to remember that those days are over now." She said, placing a hand dad's arm and rubbing it gently with her thumb. "That's why were celebrating today. They're gone and we're safe." She turned back and smiled at me. "Our family is safe."
I smiled back. I'd heard tales and read stories on the terrible events that went on during the time period when Elementalists ran free. All the pain and devastation that they caused. How it tortured many people. I, however, wasn't quite sure whose side I stood on in the matter. Despite the fact that I'd been raised to avoid Elementalists and their endeavors for as long as I could remember, I'd also been taught to hear out both sides of a story before choosing a side.
And it wasn't exactly allowed to just freely talk about Elementalist, let alone fantasize about asking them questions. So I just sat on the fence when it came to the matter.
It wasn't long before the traffic started to flow smoothly enough that it allowed my family and I to be able to make it to my high school in a decent amount of time. After short and sweet goodbyes were shared, I stepped out of the car and made my way towards the school.
I went to a public school filled with miscellany. Of course, your classic school groups were there and mostly hung out together, but not in a way that it was one of those cliché movie schools. In fact, some groups even merged to form a whole new one. Like the computer geeks and the artists. It was a weird combo, sure, but it was nice to see some variety in the building.
As I reached out to shove open the large glass double doors to the school, a slender finger tapped my shoulder. I turned around and a smile found its way onto my features as I recognized Diana. We'd had met during our eighth grade school year and didn't become close until their sophomore year. Now, as juniors, we were like sisters.
"Circe! Wait until I tell you about the guy who I hooked up with yesterday!" The raven haired girl smirked. Unlike me, Diana was more of a social butterfly of sorts A VERY social butterfly. When she wasn't at some big party, she was, in her words, "having fun" with some random guy she'd just met. I thought it was rather disgusting that you'd be willing to give yourself up like that, just for the fun of it, but for the sake of our friendship, I would never say that to her outright.
