For as long as I can remember I’d been living with my Grandma, I mean I know that I had parents; I had to come from somewhere. Grandma and I never really talked it, all that she’s told me is that my biological parents were good and kind-hearted and so was her daughter who had adopted me before she did. I’d always loved to hear about either of my parents, but just thinking about the subjects had always made my grandmother sad, and from the look in her eyes, I could already tell the subject of our little talk.

     “Orion,” she looked up at me from the cup of tea she was fixing for herself, “something that my daughter used to say was that ‘You never know how well things can go until you try’.” I could see hints of tears welling up in her eyes. “So I’m not going to ask you do go and be the Capitan of a sports team, or the president of some club. I just need you to try to be a bit more outgoing.” I could see the pleading behind her glasses framed eyes, the big brown eyes that I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint.

                                                “All right Grandma..”

     The next day I awoke to the normal bowl of cereal being made by my now happy Grandma and a cup of orange juice. I boarded the bus with an apathetic look plastered onto my face readying myself for the second day of my everyday nightmare. As I got off the bus I saw a run of the mill bully, bullying a run of the mill “nerd”, if he’d just kept his interest hidden he’d surely get less attention. The doors swung open like that of cells and the principal stands there silent and furious like an underpaid warden ready to snap at any inmate who dares question her. She was a force to be reckoned with, not someone that I want to talk to on my second day of school.

     Today was our first traditional school day, done with the introductions, the prologs, or the prequels. This was time for work and more work, the real point of school.

                                   Where the real story begins.