Post by NAMARI LOVELLE on Aug 19, 2012 17:37:26 GMT -4
The teen slowly opened the door to the mess hall, peeking her head through the crack. A quick glance revealed that it was empty, much to her delight. Namari was a quiet girl, who wished to be left alone until she got out. She hated it in Camp Sangveve. She wasn't supposed to be there. She was supposed to ignore those who bullied her, and get by in life. Maybe start a new life somewhere else, and tell everyone she was human.
Namari felt that was too naive of her. Supernaturals would always be treated like low beings. And quite frankly, it annoyed Namari. A lot. Sure, she never liked humans. But if the supernatural had been superior to the humans she wouldn't treat them like dirt. She would ignore them maybe, but she wouldn't treat them badly. Treat them how they had been treated.
She walked through the mess hall, leaving the door slightly open behind her. Namari cautiously let her broken sneakers skim the floor, until she sat down at one of the tables. Her hands were slightly shaky, her eyes darted back and forth. She wore some normal blue jeans with a black t-shirt, and her favorite sweater. Namari pulled her sweater more tightly around her, for warmth and protection. She bit down on her bottom lip slightly, letting out a wistful sigh. She missed home. She had no friends, even after being there for a year. Quite frankly, she couldn't trust anyone. Especially in the camp. The teen couldn't count how many times she was almost killed in Sangveve.
Alas, Namari knew she could do nothing about this hell hole she lived in. She could join a gang, but her trust issues pulled her away from it. Namari was growing tired, and decided not to think about it. Instead, she rested her head on her arms, on the table, lightly shutting her eyes.
Namari felt that was too naive of her. Supernaturals would always be treated like low beings. And quite frankly, it annoyed Namari. A lot. Sure, she never liked humans. But if the supernatural had been superior to the humans she wouldn't treat them like dirt. She would ignore them maybe, but she wouldn't treat them badly. Treat them how they had been treated.
She walked through the mess hall, leaving the door slightly open behind her. Namari cautiously let her broken sneakers skim the floor, until she sat down at one of the tables. Her hands were slightly shaky, her eyes darted back and forth. She wore some normal blue jeans with a black t-shirt, and her favorite sweater. Namari pulled her sweater more tightly around her, for warmth and protection. She bit down on her bottom lip slightly, letting out a wistful sigh. She missed home. She had no friends, even after being there for a year. Quite frankly, she couldn't trust anyone. Especially in the camp. The teen couldn't count how many times she was almost killed in Sangveve.
Alas, Namari knew she could do nothing about this hell hole she lived in. She could join a gang, but her trust issues pulled her away from it. Namari was growing tired, and decided not to think about it. Instead, she rested her head on her arms, on the table, lightly shutting her eyes.