how i have been spending my winter break.

We (me, my sis, our parents, and our family friends) went hiking. And I ended up taking this awesomesauce picture which I might use on a book cover.

I had to edit the colors a bit because my camera sucks lollipops. 

Did I mention I got a haircut:

I'm making a creepy face.

And then, later, when I was in my quiet/depressing mode, I ended up writing this fiction story. I've just been reading about discrimination and stuff like that and honestly, it's really stupid.

I've often been accused of having lots of irrational fears. And I, surprisingly, say that's true. I'm especially afraid of just walking down the street with my family, something that normal kids do on a daily basis. But I'm not a normal kid. People take one look at me and start to judge. They don't even bother to get to know me better. It's all really stupid, this discrimination. Why make assumptions based on how someone's eyes look, or the color of her skin, or the slight accent she tries so hard to hide? They call me an outsider, an alien, when it should all be directed at them. 

And now, I'm doing just that: walking down the street with my family. My mom is forcing me to talk in my ''native language," even though people are going to stop and stare and point and laugh if I do. She's dressed weirdly, not in my choice of plain jeans and hoodie but in a long and brightly patterned "traditional" dress that she attempts to hide, for my sake, using a humongous black overcoat. My older sister is in a plaid skirt and pink blouse. People stare at her not because she looks weird, but because she can take that weirdness and turn it into something very pleasing to the eye. At least my dad has some idea of this strange thing called "normal," as he's just wearing a shirt and pants. Nothing weird or terrorist-y there. And my little brother... well, that's another story. The poor kid will never know what normal is.

I just hate it when people make jokes about loving their "insanity." I know what real insanity is. My brother hears voices in his head, always driving him crazy, and he doesn't seem too proud of it. Everyone makes random and inaccurate jokes about his condition without actually knowing what it's like for him, to be even more of an outsider than I am. His hands are pressed to his ears and he's in obvious pain. People stop to marvel at this strange child and how weird he looks and why he's like this. Kids at school think I have no sense of humor. Few have ever seen me laugh at a joke, no matter how hilarious it is. But to me, nothing's ever funny if anyone's getting hurt in any way, and this includes my brother. He may be weird but I love him all the same.

We sit down at a park bench, and my mom unloads the bags of food she's packed for our picnic. I see yellow-stained rice and other strange foods packed in foreign-looking containers. The park is crowded today, and lots of normal people are walking by and laughing. "Mommy, why is their skin like that?" a young and pale girl asks innocently. "Because they're not like us, honey. They don't belong here. You do," replies her mother. Great. A cruel racist in the making. I belong here, just as any other free citizen. But I don't walk up to the woman and punch her face in. Then the people around us will make even more racist jokes, as well as call me "unladylike" and compare me to so many other stereotypes. I don't want that. All I want is a normal and quiet existence.

"I'm not eating this," I say softly, jamming my fists in my hoodie pockets. "It's weird food." My mom glares at me, holding my head in place and shoving some of the awful food into my forced-open mouth. The normal people are walking slower now, as if to stop and stare at my family and how weird we outsiders act. "Stop force-feeding me," I grumble between breaths, right before running away from the strangers I call my family. Of course I'll come back to them later, when not as many people are staring. One outsider is less stare-worthy than five. 

I've started crying. Why? I have no clue. I sweep my hair over my eyes and eyebrows to cover both their odd appearance and my tears. My hood is still pulled over my head, to better conceal my dark skin. I look almost normal and I feel that way too... until my sister, in the slightly strange clothes that somehow look beautiful on her, touches my shoulder. 

"You're embarrassed, right?" she asks quietly, pulling me off to the side. "Try not to be. Remember how my dance teacher said to be proud of our heritage, not try to hide away from it? We're different. We're weird. So what? Learn to embrace it!" I quit dance class ages ago because of both my lack of coordination and the fact that it wasn't normal enough for me. Learning to live with being weird works for my sister, as beautiful as she is, but not for a dork like me. "I'm not buying it, sis," I whisper into her ear. "I'll hide like this until people stop teasing us for things that are so out of our control."

Once my teacher told us about racism in America. She said that because our President was of a minority, the whole thing had basically come to an end. But I can say it hasn't. Discrimination isn't just about sitting in the back of buses or not being allowed to immigrate into a new country and find your freedom. Discrimination is about the fear that people are always going to judge you at first sight, that you'll have to spend the rest of your life just wishing to be able to walk down the street without people staring. It's about waiting for normal. And it's still very real. 

making random things.

Okay. So my dad bet me that I can't design a better website for his company than he can. How about I send y'all the screenshots (click to make them bigger) and you decide for yourself?

This was his thing. (Ew, boring!)

And this was mine. Yayz.


And right after this, I got bored. So I made a cover for my Nanowrimo.

That's supposed to be Kat. :) And what even is the pen name.

 And I got even more bored, so I made stuff for random people.

Isn't it prettyfull?

This took me FOREVER. And the girl's arm still looks strange.

what i don't look for in a story/book

Confession: I do A LOT of these things. I mean, don't we all, my dear writer friends? Nobody's perfect. Seriously, what kind of messed-up parent would name their child Perfect? "Oh, Perfect, it's your turn to do the dishes! Perfect, don't bother your little sister! Go do piano practice, Perfect!" Okay, I'll stop my little rant.

So. Anyways. Wow, I'm back on topic already! The following is supposed to be a list of things that make a story or book worse, but every writer does them.

• Too much romance. Okay, I'll confess that I love shipping people in books! But if the story's overly focused on the two main characters being in love, especially if one of them's a really really hot guy/gal and the other is an awkward nerd, it just gets annoying. Relationships like that don't happen in real life, so why use them in a "realistic fiction" book?

• Characters who get away with everything. Example: Bobette's cheap eraser is stolen by Jimmy. In response to this, Bobette picks up poor Jimmy by the ears and knocks his teeth out. And NO ONE SAYS A THING, and they act like her beating up Jimmy was totally justified. There's a little imbalance there, right? 

• That canard about the "fourth dimension." Seriously, people, the fourth dimension is TIME. It's not some creepy alien world that you can fall into and walk around in and not know how to get out of. The next time you write sci-fi, write scientifically accurate sci-fi, all righty?

• Contradictions. Example: in one paragraph of a story, Piper leaves her red hat at home. Then, right after mentioning that, and without Piper going home, the author says, "Piper looked beautiful, her red hat matching her dress perfectly." Unless the hat can teleport, which probably should've been mentioned before, how did it get on her head?

I will write more in another post. Farewell, grasshoppers! *skips off into the sunset... oh wait, it's 9:25 PM!*

a random story i wrote in 5 minutes (violence warning)

I'm finally done with my Nanowrimo, and I'll make the doc public soon :D

Nanowrimo was a crazy adventure of feels (WHY JESSE WHY MUST YOU DIE ) and insanity (MUST GET 1000 WORDS BEFORE THE END OF FREE PERIOD/TA) but it's finally done. The main character, Kathica, turned into a bit of a jerk, but I didn't mind writing that part. She annoyed me from the beginning.

Sorry for not posting. I was busy being bored.

And I was so bored that I wrote this. Yay! What even is the ending.

"He never thought the day would come, the day that they finally hold him down," Kylin whispered to herself, holding back her tears as she stared longingly out the window. "He always assumed he was stronger, that he was invincible. That no one could take him down that easily. And I wish he hadn't been so wrong." She had her back to me, but the grief in her voice was obvious. She thought I was dead.

She turned her head and finally noticed me lying there on her rock-hard bed, vulnerable, my formerly strong right arm just a stump. "Ledger!" She attempted a grin, but her normally pliant features couldn't manage it. Even more tears streamed down her pale and freckled cheeks. "I thought they killed you. It's no use resisting such a great power, the one that rules this world. You're never going to take over, Ledge, so don't go around scaring your poor little sister."

"They're doing so many things wrong. If I was in charge of things around here, it would be a much better place. Why do they always put the idiots and addlepates at the top?” I probably sounded like a whiny brat, but I hated the way politics worked around here. It was probably because I was now a wanted criminal, charged with minorly injuring a government official. The guy had chopped off my arm, and all I did was trip him, but the stupid law-enforcers treated it like some sort of major crime. "Besides, without my arm, I might as well be dead already. Seriously, Ky, what can I do with only one arm?"

Ky wiped tear after glimmering tear off her face, and her attempt at a smile was much closer this time. It had probably been a while since she had last felt this joyous. "Well, you can run and walk, but you're probably not going to be able to fight as well anymore. Which is actually a good thing. But being the sympathetic sister I am, I'll try and help you, Ledge. You know I'm good with carving things. Should I make you a hook or something? It's the best I can do with the technology avaliable to me."

What would I do with a hook? A claw might be fine for grabbing things, but a hook?! Besides, Ky wasn't actually that good at woodworking, as her failed attempt at a bookshelf had collapsed on me and nearly given me a concussion. But that was when she was just a kid, trying new things. Those days were over.

"I'll manage somehow. I'll still fight, because you were wrong. I am stronger than them, even if they just see me as a petty revolutionary. I will take them down, with just this one arm!" I meant it. I was determined to crush them, to teach those idiots and addlepates about a government of the people and for the people. I was tired of not having a say in foreign policy, of being forced to pay outrageously high taxes (which led to me having to share a house with my younger sister), of not being able to do anything for anyone without people assuming that I was starting a revolution. But Kylin didn't seem to mind any of this.

"Come with me, Ky. That way I can set you up with a government post. Haven't you always wanted to be in charge of the world?" I regretted saying that to my go-with-the-flow sister, so I decided to add another argument. "Besides, if I die, you'll be there to perform my last rites." Glad that I was finally being humble, Ky agreed.

We had to walk all the way to the capital on foot, being dirt-poor as we were. I had a wooden sword in my hook, one that Ky reluctantly modified so it would fit. In my other hand I carried a shield made of the strongest scrap metal I could dig up. Ky strode behind me, genuinely afraid. 

"Ledger Blackthorne! Seize him! Dead or alive, but preferrably dead!" shouted a burly officer, hatred gleaming in his amber eyes. A bullet whizzed through the air, coming straight at my face. I dodged it easily. Kylin, in her small aqua-green dress, wasn't as quick. The perfectly round ball of gunpowder hit her in the face and she fell back onto the dirt. My sister, the one person I actually knew how to love, was gone forever.

"What is this insanity?" I yelled, bursting with anger and hatred and revolutionary fervor. "I just happen to trip an official and you charge me for it, but you kill my sister and go on with your lives?! This is why we need a change, you corrupted pigs!" Another bullet whizzed through the air, this time from further away. I dodged it again. A crowd was beginning to assemble, cheering me on out of sympathy for my loss. Finally, people agreed with me. And they also were armed.

My crowd of supporters began to pull out guns and bows and arrows and swords, killing off all but one of the officials. And that one official shot a bullet which went straight through my heart. I was so close to ruling the world, but I died because of my foolishness, my false sense of supremacy, my pride. And here I am, dear listener, telling you this story from the realm of ghosts.

sorry!

I've been obsessively writing.
So obsessively that I haven't been able to post chapters 4 through 15 on here.
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What? You want to read more? 

Aww, you're nice! *hugs*

So here's the link to my amazing novel on Google Docs. Because I'm a lazybutt. :D

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YPS3NACOdHxUQ8oTPJirSP3lKDFjGSmy4_xEUtGRxOo/edit

it takes forever to load though.

nanowrimo chapter 3!

FINALLY XD

“I forgot to tell you, I sent someone out to interrogate the blonde. She didn’t give us anything useful.”

“Sir, didn’t she say that bit about our subject living in the past?”

“Eh… I guess… We all know that. Even her classmates do.”

“And didn’t she think about comparing her own mother to our subject?, sir?”

“Excellent job. You tapped into her thoughts. Maybe you’ll amount to something someday.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You want to be really useful? Try and interrupt our subject while she’s practicing.”

After an online conversation with runnergirl69, or Evangeline, Kathica sealed herself in her soundproof section of her family compartment. A small black case rested against a bland white wall, providing striking contrast. She picked it up, along with the small paperback book that rested behind it.

Kathica undid the case’s metal padlocks and took out what looked like an intricately carved piece of wood with strings running through it. A violin, as it was referred to in the book she’d found about how to play it. Before she’d done her soundproofing project, she found the violin and book resting in a corner of her room, and was intrigued by them. Luckily, her parents were out, so they didn’t notice the soft screeching noise she made, but she didn’t want anyone else to hear it. Least of all an Authority.

Those screeching noises had, over time, been replaced with something different, something beautiful. The sounds leaped and swerved around the room, flowing gracefully from one note to the next. Kathica’s tanned fingers were a blur, dancing on those thin strings. She controlled the bow and listened as the melody slid from one note to the next. Making these sounds came naturally to her. This was all she was good for, other than knocking out older kids and making good grades in math.

Music, the book called it. Kathica liked the sound of the word. It just felt… nice, comforting. Like she did when she played it. The piece she was working on had mostly high notes, so she took it down an octave. She loved the rich, deep sounds of the lower part of the violin’s range, and preferred them over the tinny higher reaches.

Kathica kept playing and playing and wishing more than ever that she could time-travel back to the past, where her passion wouldn’t be considered a frivolity. She could imagine it: a music-player weaving melodies from air, and other people gathered around, sitting still and listening and loving it. If everyone just took time off from their fighting and seriousness and did something “frivolous” every now and then, she thought, this war-torn world would be a better place. Of course, no one listened to insignificant children like her. For now, these fantasies would have to remain in her head.

Her computer beeped again, but it wasn’t because of runnergirl69 this time. Kathica had received a message, but it was from Address Unknown. She ended her piece with a long fluttering trill, then set her violin and bow down and looked at the screen.

“Report to your compartment’s door at once,” the message said. Knowing better than to trust complete strangers, Kathica ignored the message and kept sawing away at her violin. She was on top of the world. Nothing could stop her now, except maybe being taken away by the Authorities.

Another message arrived for her. “Kathica Finley Perlman, I mean it. Go outside. Now. Your future awaits you.” Finley. That awful word. No one, not even Evangeline, knew her middle name. She hated it so much that she begged her parents not to tell anyone about it. Surprisingly, they agreed.

She packed up her violin and book, setting them in the closet where her clean Uniforms were, and walked out her compartment’s front door. Her parents weren’t home that day, as they were always building some new contraption for the soldiers. Kathica didn’t mind being so distant from her parents, as she was quite independent.

The husky, broad-shouldered silhouette of an Authority blocked her door. Great. They had discovered her “frivolous” hobby. This was the end of her normal, peaceful existence. Her days were most certainly numbered.

“Kathica Perlman. At last, we have proof that your so-called passion is the highest frivolity that exists. You probably know what’s coming next, don’t you?” She did. She knew too well. She was being sent to military training camp, and then on a suicide mission. Even though she could knock out DeSilva and Anderson with one sweep of her fist, she couldn’t intentionally hurt anyone.

“Yeah. Basically, I’m gonna die.” Kathica said those words with bored indifference. “But I have one last wish: to take my violin and book with me. And I want to be able to practice whenever I have time. Oh, and can I message my best friend real quick? In private?” To her surprise, the Authority agreed.

Kathica logged on to her computer and sent Evangeline a farewell message. “I’m leaving today. I don’t know why, but the Authorities are sending me off to training camp. If anyone at school asks about me, say that my parents got relocated. I know you hate lying, Evangeline, but do it just this once. For me.” She knew that she was lying too, but she didn’t mind. Kathica was the best liar she’d met. Still, she cried, beside herself with tears. She’d never cried before.

Evangeline’s reply was quick: “im so sorry kat! :( good luck staying alive!” The message seemed light and insincere, but Kathica knew it wasn’t. She could feel her friend’s panic, could imagine Evangeline’s sorrow at her only companion being gone. Evangeline just wasn’t very good at putting her thoughts into words.

Kathica packed up her computer and a clean Uniform. “You won’t be needing those clothes,” the Authority said. “Training camp has it’s own Uniform. You’ll probably like it better than this one.” She wasn’t so sure about that. If it was a Uniform, it was bound to be awful.

In a failed attempt to cheer herself up, she imagined training camp as a place with green polka-dotted walls and absurdly high ceilings and lots of music and frivolities. It wasn’t actually that funny. In a situation as dire as hers, nothing was funny.

chapter two of my amazing novel!

(BTW, I edited chapter one. Now they live in an underground city. XD)

“The way she handled those young men… unimaginable! No sane, self-respecting girl would knock them over like that!”

“Sir, are you implying that she’s not sane or self-respecting?”

“We don’t know. She could be a real threat to society.”

“Wait… hold on… I have more information, sir! Her thought processes included wishes to time-travel. To the past.”

“Not good. And do you have anything on her little friend? The cute blonde she sits next to on the shuttle?”

“She acts normal, sir. An Authority’s child, in fact.”

“Good. I just need a way to use her.”

Evangeline “Evie” Deschaine’s father didn’t have a head. If he did, she’d never seen it. He ran away from her mom before she was born. Mrs. Deschaine had pictures of her ex-husband, but she always used the cropping tool to remove his head. “A man who leaves his pregnant wife to go become an overarching and evil Authority doesn’t deserve to stay in my memory,” she said, teary-eyed, whenever Evie asked her about her dad. When she spoke the word “Authority,” she spat it, like it was the vilest of curses.

The Deschaines had barely enough money to get by, and it was like that since before the wars, even though Evie couldn’t remember a time back then. None of Evie’s friends noticed or teased her. It wasn’t as if she had many friends, as her closest thing to one was Kathica Perlman, the girl who sat next to her on the shuttle and sometimes exchanged messages with her during class. Evie was too shy to talk to any of the other girls, and too scared to approach boys even though people often said she was attractive.

Kathica was a good sort-of friend to have, especially for someone as timid as Evie. She was strong and didn’t let anyone get the best of her, least of all Marc DeSilva and Keith Anderson, the school bullies. Evie had seen her knock both of them over today right after classes. Now she understood why the other children looked up to her in awe, as if they were a little scared of her and what she could become if you got on the wrong side of her.

The two girls were now studying together, sending messages back and forth, but they ended up talking about the incident that just happened. Kathica made it sound like it was completely unintentional, like it was just her reflexes in action, like she didn’t mean to put two older and bigger boys in critical condition.

“It’s not a crime that I like to live in the past,” typed Kathica, her spelling and grammar looking ancient and flawless and unheard of. “I’m sure there are weird things about you as well, except you’re doing a better job of hiding them then I am.” Evie said nothing. Kathica knew that her dad was an Authority, but Evie never told her about the “headless” part.

Evie didn’t know this, but her mom was standing behind her, reading every word of her conversation with Kathica. “She seems like a good influence,” she said, startling her daughter. “A nice strong girl, knocking down everything in her way instead of whining about breaking a nail. And she doesn’t care about being super popular in school.”

Evie thought her mom acted a little like Kathica sometimes. They were both a little out of the loop and didn’t seem to like using the cool new gadgets and computers that everyone else enjoyed. They preferred older things, like Kathica’s dinosaur computer and Mrs. Deschaine’s famous cookie recipe that had been passed down for generations. And they seemed to loath the Authorities, probably because they wanted to enjoy frivolities like people did in the past.

For a moment, Evie began to wonder if her mom and her only friend were actually from the past. Because time travel hadn’t been invented yet, she decided that they weren’t. It wasn’t as if she cared too much, because they were both good people.

She finished her homework quickly, then stepped out of her compartment to go for an evening run. Evie loved feeling the cool underground air and the synthetic sunlight on her skin. Luckily for her, athletics weren’t considered frivolous, as soldiers needed to be in excellent shape to win the wars. It wasn’t as if Evie wanted to become a soldier. She fainted at the sight of blood.

Half an hour went by, and Evie felt herself getting a bit tired. She slowed her pace down to a walk, trying to get her breath back until she could sprint again. Unknowingly, she stumbled into a dimly lit alley blocked by a dark shape. The silhouette could be nothing but a hulking, enormous Authority. Evie Deschaine’s days were numbered, or so she thought.

“Relax,” he said in a menacingly deep voice. “I’m not going to hurt you, Evangeline. I’ll just ask you a few questions.” Evie tried to stand tall and look fearless, but the man was too intimidating. “It’s about that friend of yours. Kathica. What does she act like?”

For some reason, Evie couldn’t imagine telling this man about Kathica’s face-off with DeSilva and Anderson. She replied, hesitantly, “Kathica’s a nice person, in general. She doesn’t let bullies win her over. And she loves old stuff.” That was all she would say about her friend. She didn’t want Kathica to get in trouble.

“Old stuff?” the Authority asked, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“She has an ancient computer, and when I message her, she always replies with perfect grammar, like people used to. That’s basically it.”

“Thank you for your time, Evangeline. You can run home. Like a good girl.” The big man chuckled and sent a fresh wave of fear down Evie’s spine. She could only hope she wasn’t dealing with her missing dad, but the man’s ample build and enormous shoulders suggested she wasn’t. Her mom was also quite muscular, which made Evie wonder where she got her slim figure from.

Evie breathed a silent sigh of relief and jogged all the way back to her compartment, loving the synthetic sunlight all the way. The only way to feel the real sun would be to go to the surface of the Earth, where war was constantly taking place, so she didn’t mind too much. Up there, Authorities wouldn’t be the only things out to get her.

nanowrimo chapter 1

*I put some of this up a while ago. Sorry for not posting yesterday, this is what I was working on! I don't know the title yet*

“Any new information on our subject?”

“Nothing at the moment, sir. The girl is still attempting to pursue her silly motives.”

“Ha! Look at her, so confident in her frivolous passion. She doesn’t want to know what we have in store for her future.”

“She’ll know soon enough, won’t she, sir?”

“Of course. You’re darn right she will. If all goes according to plan, that is.”

“Sir, are you implying that it won’t?”

“Definitely not!"

The morning was perfect and silent and just felt good in general. As usual, Kathica Perlman woke up in her plain white living compartment. She hated the blandness of her surroundings. If she had a choice in the matter, she would’ve painted the walls and put up posters and drawings. Neon green polka dots would look nice. Sadly, though, the Authorities would consider them “frivolous” and send her on some dangerous suicide mission into a war zone, and Kathica treasured her life too much to risk death in exchange for polka-dotted walls.

The Authorities were so strict because everyone was fighting. World War III was taking place, and one of the powerful nuclear bombs had killed Kathica’s little brother, Walter, a few years ago. She still missed him and would’ve left flowers at his grave, except every garden in her city Etherios had been destroyed in the war. Flowers would probably also be considered a frivolity. And in addition to fighting each other, the countries of Earth were being assaulted by alien armies, unlike any of the friendly and intelligent microbes the astronauts had encountered earlier.

Kathica changed from her sleeping clothes into her Uniform, a tight gray jumpsuit that was made of the most cost-effective material. She hated the Uniform because it choked her, suppressing the pores on her golden-brown skin. And gray just wasn’t her color. It was the color everyone had to wear, because it was apparently the most efficient to make the Uniforms in, so she tried not to mind too much.

After picking up her small computer, she opened her compartment’s door and stepped out, surveying the war-torn city. It was a good thing that the compartments were bulletproof and bomb-proof and had extremely strong padlocks on their doors. If they didn’t, she’d be dead by now. However, if the Authorities were to ever come to her door, she had to unlock it and politely let them in. And Kathica Perlman didn’t do many things politely, but she also didn’t want to die like Walter and so many others.

The shuttle to school stopped in front of her house. She got on, sitting next to a timid and blonde girl named Evangeline. They rode in silence, which was fine. Kathica didn’t have anything worth talking about to this girl whose father was actually one of the Authorities. Evangeline didn’t brag about it, unlike many of the other Authorities’ children did, so that was why Kathica liked her more than the others. Her own parents were military tacticians and engineers, not as brag-worthy. Everyone’s family was somehow associated with the military.

Her teachers droned on and on about ancient history, her first class. Kathica found herself wishing that her parents signed her up for the virtual school, but they were huge proponents of face-to-face interaction. She preferred taking classes in the safety of her compartment, away from the war that took her brother.

That wasn’t the only reason Kathica hated school. Her section of the compartment was soundproofed. She had done it about two years ago, at the tender age of thirteen, but had deleted all records of it in case the Authorities might find out. She knew that none of her information was ever private, and that the Authorities probably found out about her little project, but she couldn’t care less. It was all that mattered to her.

Her computer beeped softly, so only she could hear it. Evangeline was trying to send her a message: “kat how can u actually pay atenshun?! class is sooo boring!!1 im jealous.” She ignored the message, written in the slang that was common among her classmates, and shut her computer off.  

Kathica was the only one in her history class who actually cared about learning, and the message proved it. She loved the class. Learning about how people lived before the war was actually interesting. The pictures and videos that her teacher showed her weren’t even in 3D! This was probably what got the other students tuned out. They loved having the latest and greatest in technology, no matter what the cost was to them or their struggling-to-get-by parents. Kathica called them spoiled. Her own computer was an ancient model, close to three years old. It worked well enough.

She slept through the rest of her classes. Math and science came naturally to her, so those two were extremely slow-paced. She could ace tests without even studying while her peers struggled over something as elementary as quadratic equations.

Class was dismissed for the day, sooner than Kathica expected. She picked up her computer and headed out the door and towards the shuttle, attempting to sit next to Evangeline again. Before she could even get onboard, though, two muscular boys grabbed her tight Uniform and shoved her backwards.

“Like to live in the past, don’tcha, squirt?” asked the taller of the two, slicking his blond hair back. “Kathica Perlman, the history nerd who thinks she’s better than us all. Well, face it, you’re not.” She recognized him as Marc DeSilva, who, at eighteen years old, was the oldest boy in Year Ten. He thought he was the most popular boy as well.

“Hey, is that even a computer?” the other, stockier boy cut in, eyeing the gadget in Kathica’s hands. “I think it’s called… I don’t know… a dinosaur!” Kathica had never seen him before. If she did, she would have remembered a face that mean.

Her green eyes flashed with anger. She hated it when people insulted her way of life. There was no one in the entire school that she couldn’t beat up. In one fell sweep of her fist, she knocked the blond-headed boy unconscious, then punched the short and stout one right in the stomach. When both boys were lying on the floor and Evangeline congratulated her for humiliating Marc, she finally realized what she had unknowingly done and felt infinitely guilty.

In the silence of the shuttle ride, Kathica began to wish she could travel back in time. She didn't care that technology wasn't as advanced. If she was from the past, she wouldn't have had to soundproof her section of the compartment the way she did two years ago. She'd be able to enjoy music and pretty dresses and all those other "frivolities." Including green polka-dotted walls.