Early Morning Drawing [open]

[Cristiana Ricci]

Cristiana Ricci was up in the Girl's dorm of Hawthorne Academy in her bed. She was twisting and turning in her bed. Why you may ask? Well, she had her reoccuring nightmare, which she believed spawned her fire powers. Of course, her nightmares hadn't been occuring every night, but it still occured eventually.

The soft glow of a fluorescent light gleamed from up above. A white-painted celing was able to be seen. A man was able to be seen, about middle-aged, holding Christina (as a baby). Her giggles are heard as her father was talking to her. It was heard like a murmer in the quiet room. They were both ontop of a mat, toys scattered all over the place. Everything was peaceful, and everything was great.

Suddenly, an explosion was heard. The house shook a little. Christina was set down on the mat. Her father stood up and started to head for a window. A second explosion was heard, this time, destroying a part of the house. Black smoke billowed everywhere. Rubble flied in all directions. The room was no longer peacefull, it looked like a war zone. A mutter was able to be heard, then a loud scream was heard.

During her nightmare, Cristiana was turning every which way in her bed. As she did so, she was saying, "No," outloud. Rather loudly as a matter of fact. After a few moments, she quickly awoken. Her face was full of sweat and she was panting hard. She wiped her sweat off of her face. She looked around the dorm room, her chocolate-brown eyes had held her stress of the nightmare finally spotted a few holes from her fire power in the door. She sighed lightly to herself.

Whenever Cristiana was emotional in anyway, her fire powers usually come out. Practically never did she ever have control of these ocassional spurts of her powers. She had been attempting to stop this from happening. At times she had successes, other times they were failures. Whatever the outcome, she always attempted to control it. Though, at that moment, it seemed that she hadn't. But, that was while she was asleep.

Cristiana sighed lightly as she noticed the holes in her door. Now she needed to get those fixed. Oh great. She sighed lightly and shook her head. She climbed out of bed, thinking that there was no use on going back to bed on that Saturday morning. Besides, soon the other students would awaken. So, it didn't really matter. Well, maybe it did, but to her, it didn't.

Cristiana stood up, and picked up a towel from a drawer. She then walked into the showers. A few mintues later of the water, and shampoo, she emerged from the shower in the towel. Since it was the weekend, she put on a sleeve-less shirt, and a jean skirt. Flipflops were placed on her feet as she walked to the doorway of her dorm, picking up a sketchpad with her. She looked down at the holes in her door and sighed lightly to herself once more.

Cristiana exited her dorm room, and walked out of the Hawthorne Academy. She went right through the enterence way of the school, and onto the grounds of the school. She walked through the grounds of the school, looking for something for her to draw. She finally noticed a small patch of pretty flowers up ahead along with a tree that was nearby it. She smiled lightly and walked over to the tree. She sat down underneath the tree, and looked over at the flowers. She pulled her knees closer to herself so she could be able to draw. She opened up the sketchpad and began to draw the patch of flowers infront of her.

[Xan Rydman]

Everyone knows when they’re being watched. It’s like they can feel eyes constantly on their backs. They’ll turn around, look for the culprit, but in Blair’s case, she never realized Xan was behind it all. It wasn’t like Xan was crawling around and following the girl, watching her in the shower and stuff. She preferred male hardware, thankyouverymuch. It seemed to just be luck that Xan had been walking back to her room to see Blair Banks and Hadley Chase deep in conversation right in front of her. And they seemed to be just walking around aimlessly. Xan could get away with following them a bit without looking suspicious. She was accompanied by her trusty soccer ball and was juggling it down the hallway, making just enough noise that Blair wouldn’t realize she was being overhead—not that she would anyway. But Xan could still hear her.

Blair was the perfect person to follow, too. While Blair occasionally got high marks in classes, she had no common sense whatsoever. She wasn’t good at keeping secrets, or anything for that matter, to herself. Xan expected not only to hear some juicy gossip about some chick, but something helpful about the Team. Maybe the code to the Debriefing House or when their next big meeting with the Dean was. Just something, anything, to give her a lead on what to do next.

But all she heard was a predictable, “Did you hear Rachel practically begged to give Tom head?” Hadley gasped and ‘Oohed’ and ‘Ahhed’ like a good friend should. Blair recounted the story with impeccable details. Xan sighed. She already knew Rachel was a whore and wanted to sleep with anyone who had a penis. That was last week’s news. She wanted to hear about some super secret password. She wanted to hear Seth’s weakness. Blair just didn’t have anything interesting to say. So as the two girls peeled off, still chit chatting about how Rachel was a complete ho, and in the direction of the sauna, Xan kept juggling her soccer ball straight outside. Once there she had more room to practice harder tricks. She bounced it off her shoulders, kicked it farther, headed it a few times, but made sure not to drop it, that was until it almost hit Speed. Despite being drugged up most of the time, he was pretty alert on and off the soccer field. He kicked it back to her quickly, gave her a dazzling smile, and passed her by. She watched him disappear into the boys dorms and sighed.

That was when she caught sight of some girl sitting underneath a tree scribbling furiously on a sketchpad. Not scribbling—drawing. It seemed the girl was sketching some flowers. Curious, Xan walked up behind her and checked her drawing out. Her eyebrows raised a little bit as she watched the girl’s hand fly across the paper like it was its job. She was surprisingly good, but Xan was bored now. She could only watch for so long. She dribbled the ball again, bouncing it off her knees and kicking it back into the air. She then caught it and looked at the girl.

“Not bad,” she said, meaning about her drawing. “I’m Xan. Who are you?”

It was a silly introduction on her part. Xan Rydman was notorious. She was well known. She was everything every girl wanted to be. Dark brown hair and dark brown hair on a tall athletic body was a knockout combination. Not to mention, Xan’s incredible fashion sense, pretty face, and fun personality. She was the soccer MVP and the starting attack wing on Hawthorne’s exceptional lacrosse team. Her hair was shoulder length at least, but could never be boring with Xan’s originality and peculiar taste. She always had it up in some elaborate ‘do.’ And to top it all off, Xan was incredibly confident. She’d only be this conceited in her mind, but she was positive everyone around her could tell. She reeked of confidence.

“I try to draw sometimes,” Xan offered, telling her information the girl probably didn’t care about. “I’m not really that good or anything. How long have you been doing it?”

[Not that great, sorry.]