#alexis simmonds

Mun: Yes! “M….Mun-chan…that’s the guy with the stripping problem!”

Mun: But he's cute!"...."

Mun: I'm right, aren't I?

Brrrrrring! "Ugh. I don't miss this." Alexis growled into the cold, plastic table on her desk. She was on time for school, but she stayed up late the previous night to finish her homework, which she procrastinated on. With her average understanding of the subjects, she should've started Friday night. "I really, really don't." she tuned her head, staring out the window. A cold, February morning, with a high chance of snow, cold breezes, and a 95% chance of her falling asleep in first block. She picked up her head when her named was called, and stated dryly. "Here." Her eyes scanned the room, the classroom was full of teenagers her age, or, younger than her. Alexis has lied about her age, since her two-year coma stinted her growth, she could easily pass off as 16. If everyone knew she was 18 and a sophomore, she'd be teased endlessly. 'It wasn't my fault, I was in a coma for two years!' she thought to herself madly. She couldn't tell anyone this, or she'd be alienated more than she already was. You'd think in New York that unnatural hair colors would be popular, but everyone stared at her for the power-blue color of choice. She was called various nicknames(none to her face, but she heard them in the halls), but not limited to pixie, blue cooler, anime girl, and powder puff. She wanted to turn around and punch them, but part of her therapy was getting back into the real world, and punching some chick's lights out over a horrible name calling was not in her plan. Not only would she get suspended, she be one of 'those' students that solved all her problems with violence. That wasn't the person she wanted to be, and she wouldn't become the thing she hated. She laid her head back on the desk, half-listening to whatever lecture the teacher was giving.

"...and so in the early 1800's..."

'Uuugh. something please happen to make this stop.' she begged in her mind.

Alexis tossed and turned. She had woken up at leave five times in the past few hours over the same, chilling nightmare. She was in a cold sweat when she awoke, her hair in her face. She shivered, trying to calm herself down. "It's just a dream....but...I can't sleep. What'll I do?" she gripped her stuffed rabbit, trying to think of a way to go back to sleep. She wasn't hungry, or thirsty, so that was out. If she was caught on the computer, she's be grounded.