((Yay. c: I shall start.  Crud, I forgot to add age. They are all in their senior year in high school, ok? D:))

-Chatam-

Waking up this morning was painful, I still felt the hurt from my ex, though she has long left me. Getting up, I head straight for the bathroom, thinking a hot shower would clear the thoughts from my head. Afterwords, I take my time dressing. Sighing, a place three, thick novels into my bag, along with my homework. Heading towards the kitchen, a glas.s of orange juice seems welcome. After chugging it down, my bus groans up the hill. I head outside and get on the bus, ignoring the rowdy kids. Staring out the window, I wish my car was working, the bus was a horrible place. Memories run through my head, replaying over and over again. I wish I had gotten stronger from the expirence, but instead I'm weak, like a small child. I open the book, taking in the smell of ink, and run my fingers over the well-worn pages. Beginning to read, I lose all thoughts of my ex, and soak in the words.

-Kaleia-

Blaring rock music, one hand on the wheel, the other applying make-up, that's how I drive. Somehow I manage to stay on the road, and not pis.s off anyone. I pull into the lot of the school, slamming the doors when I get out. A group of guys catcall at me, so a sit on the hood of my truck, picking my nails with me pocketknife, grinning dangerously. They stop, and I yank open the pas.senger door, grabbing my purse and bookbag. After locking the doors, and stalk inside, my heels tapping against the shiny floor. A hear a snicker, and see a younger boy laughing at me. I grab his collar, threatening him. Shoving him away, he flees down the hallway. I smirk. Turning the corner, I spot someone. Him. My eyes narrow, the anger flaring. I'm about to pull my knife, making him pay for the years of abuse. The only thing that saved him from my wrath, was the sound of the bell. Frowning, I head to cla.s, my temper still hot.

((Senior year in high school. Funnn :D))

*Sheena*

I thrash wildly about in my bed, and sit up with a gasp. I sigh, seeing as I was having me usual nightmare of my ex, yelling and screaming and taunting me with his endless remarks and cussing, beating me with his fists in his rage. I run my hand through my hair and stand up, walking quietly to my bathroom in my apartment I owned after being kicked out of my parent's house, because I didn't pursue finding a job. I washed up wuickly, looking at the time, and jogged outside to my old car, turning it on and driving to school. Once I got there, I jogged inside, because the morning bell had already rung.

*Zelos*

Walking with a group of my friends, we are all walking to our first clas.s. I slow as I near my clas.s, looking around. I see her, standing across the hall, her mouth in a slight mocking grin. I look away, thinking of getting revenge on her, as I go into my clas.sroom to get away from her, even though I am the first one there. I sit down in my seat, glaring at my desk. Mad at myself, because I couldn;t change her.

Mora 

 I was up before the sun.  I glanced at the old fashioned clock that was mounted by my desk, 3:21 am... the time I was usually up...before... I clenched my fists so the whites of my knuckles showed through the darkness, before I climbed out of bed.  My bare feet glided silently across the wooden floorboards that made up my room.  The olive green comforter fell to the ground as I walked.  I flicked on the light, squinting my eyes so they adjusted...  I turned the knob and the gentle pitter patter of the warm liquid bouncing off the shower tiles.  I slid out of my sleepwear and allowed the warmth to creep into my skin... I closed my eyes, envisioning a warm rain in a lovely forest.  My thoughts were interrupted when he came into my mind.  My eyes flew open, i could feel the pupil closing to a near slit as my fury rose.  I swallowed hard, forcing myself to cool down.  I emerged from the warmth and allowed the brisk morning air to kiss my revealed skin.  I let out a deep sigh and quickly dried myself...  I slid on a pair of tight skinny jeans and silver flats, on the top I slid on a grey tank top with an off the shoulder shirt that hung loosly about my body.  It was made of a light white fabric that allowed the tank to be shown.  It hugged my figure nicely and I finished my look with a locket that hung about my neck.  I placed a hand on my hip and gave a joking twirl to try to cheer myself up...it failed.  I applyed my make up and let my fine curly locks fall about my shoulders.  I spritsed myself with a light body mist, giving me the scent of vanilla...and I disappeared down the steps.  I grabbed my bag from the kitchen table, and gripped an apple in my hand.  I walked out into the chilled morning air, the last bits of the moon basking against my skin in the moonlight.  I came to my tree... the place where I could express myself openly.  I took a pencil and sketched, I was a fine artist in my opinion, my art looked as though it were a photograph as Drake would say.  I smiled but realized I had drawn the flower that I grew to hate... I toar the page from my notebook, and had the temptation to set it ablaze.  Instead I crumpled it up and threw it as hard as I cold into the large creek as I walked to school.  I was one of teh first to arrive, and I strode in.  Several early rising boys winked at me, and I rolled my eyes... a dangerous snarl in my emeralds. they shrinked away...a wise choice. With my eyes like venom, I stalked through the halls, taking my seat in my first clas.s.

Drake

By the time my alarm went off, it was a quarter past 7.  Great... late for school once again.  I cared not, the memories still haunting me, what was there to live for... I remember her face...her oh so lovely face... I remember the feel of her skin against mine, her hand intertwined...but it was all fake...unreal.  I challenge these fond memories with the far more disturbing ones.  I pulled myself out from under the warmth of the pale blue sheets that held in the house Mora and I shared.  I stalked over to her room... the one person who mattered... it was empty... of course she left without me...she always does.  I slide into the shower, emerging quickly after the generous heat seemed to cool on my flesh.  The mist from the heated water smoked about the bathroom, I shook out my light hair and pulled out a shirt, buttoning it quickly and sliding on a pair of jeans, along with a pair of sneakers.  Without another word, I slipped out of the house, gripping a slice of toast in one hand, my head in the other as I tried to force the negative thoughts from my mind.

((...I already love this rp. o:))

-Chatam-

Sliding into my desk, as far from the front as possible, tucked into my own little piece of heaven; the darkest corner of the room. My bangs fall in front of my eye, I very carefully brush them away, only enough where I could see, not enough so others could see me. I glance down at my desk, heavily damaged and scrawled upon, nasty words etched into it's once-shiny top. I trace the words with my finger, thinking of them. Words. They have so much power. They allow you to see what a person feels, thinks and does. They show you the truth, when you long for the imaginary. They hurt and abuse you, or they heal you. All I know is that my soul resides in words, some kind and gentle, but mostly harsh and cruel. I can never forgive her for the damage she caused; I'll never look at books the same. Oh yes, I still find most of my joy in books, in fact, I almost desperately search for the positive words, the ones that reas.sure me, that comfort of pain. But there will always be some, that are daggers through my heart. The biggest one of all is three little words, one tiny phrase: I love you.

Dragging myself from my thoughts, I aim my attention to the board. The teacher has written her name across the board, Mrs. Johnson. She calls out roll, and I hear my name ring out. "Chatam DelGrati?" I slowly raise my hand. Mrs. Johnson squints. "Mr. DelGrati, please move up a seat, out of that darkened corner." All eyes on me. I stand, gathering my stuff, and walk the three feet to the desk in front of mine. I feel people staring, wondering where I came from. Their eyes judging, looking at my clothes, a plain, v-neck t-shirt, in black of course, and crisp gray slacks, my shoes black and white converse. I sit, and Mrs. Johnson finishes the roll call, the students attention now directed at her, I have once again disappeared within anyone's thoughts, but I know I can never fully vanish; my heaven invaded, my identity known.

-Kaleia-

I stand in the doorway, deciding on my entrance. Right before the teacher beings roll, I walk in, my heels making noticeable noise. "Well won't you look at this clas.s of high-intelligence pupils." Everyone stares, I grin. The teacher rolls his eyes; we've met before. "Have a seat, Ms. Browning." "With pleasure, Mr. Delphine." I reply, taking a choice seat in the front, directly in front of the board. I hear low chatter, mostly asking who was the girl who had just come in. I shift my head, viewing the others. Mr. Delphine wastes no time after calling roll, and pas.ses out worksheets. "This is an as.sessment to evaluate how much you know. It should be a breeze, considering everyone here is a supposed "honor" students."  I stare at the worksheet, and stifle a chuckle. It's unbelievable easy; I finish within the first ten minutes. I stalk to his desk, slapping the paper on the desk. He looks up from his work, surprised. He says nothing, just grades my paper. "Well done, Ms. Browning." He turns to the rest of the clas.s. "I will announce your grades once everyone is finished." I sit back down, my mind shifting gears.

All I can think of, is that imbecile, that fiend, that dirt that I walk on, Justin. I close my eyes as flashbacks draw me in. The night he dumped me. It was raining, like all proper sob stories do, and he was flying down the street, a bottle of whiskey in hand. "Kaleia! I can't do anything with you! Nothing!" In his drunken rage, he jerks the car, and slaps me across the face with his bottle. Me, being the soft wimp I was, cried, whimpering for him to stop. He only laughed in my face, the slowed down. He leaned across me, opening my door. "Out." I stare in disbelief, he couldn't possibly want me to get out. "OUT!" He yells, his breathe reeking of booze. I stumble, trying to get out, when he presses the gas. I fly out, landing in the middle of the street, bloody and scraped up, contusions lining my body. I can't move, my body in a state of shock. I grab my knees and cry, the rain pouring over me. Car horns honk; angry yelling. Trembling, and crawl across to the sidewalk, where I collapse. Nobody even stopped to see what was wrong. Coming out of my pleasant memories, I open my eyes to see I have taken my pencil and stabbed my knee; my other hand clenched tightly, the skin white. I let out my breathe and pull the pencil from my skin. The blood bubbles and trickles down my leg. I just watch it, not caring who saw.

Bio (Girls):

Name: Sora jones

Looks:I am tall and slender with flowing light brown hair. My hair shines lightly in the light. My eyes are a light blue color that look like the sea.I usually wear long sleves and jeans to cover the scars and bruises i have on my arms and legs. Ocasionally i will ware a long sleeved dress and wear pants or leggings under them to hide my legs. I never wear short sleeves no matter what season it is. I usually wear my hair down which falls to about the bottom of my back. I will sometimes put it up in braids.

Personality:Funny yet shy. She doesn't like to talk to guys that much because of how her ex boyfriend treated her. She is very playful and funf at heart though.

How were you hurt?:Emotionally and PHysically

How has this changed you?:It has made me very shy and angry inside from me being happy and fun all the time.

Other: None

~

Bio (Guys):

Name: Darien moss

Looks:I am rather tall for my age. I stand at about 6ft 6 inches. I am rather skinny with light skin. My hair is rather shaggy and falls to right above my shoulders.My hair is a midnight black color. My eyes are a light green. I usually wear mostly black and i will wear short and long sleeves. 

Personality:Short tempered and easily hurt. I can be funny and caring at times but most of the time i am angry because of my history. I am caring to anyone i care about when they make me angry i get out of control and will hurt them. This emotionally hurts me very much. I try to control my temper bu it is very hard for me.

How were you hurt?: Emotionally y myself.

How has this changed you?:I feel rather sad and angry at myself

Other:My ex is Sora

Mora

And so I opened my notebook... taking in the lovely curls and shapes of my art...  I interrpretted my feelings through the vivid detailing of greenery and animals...as well as shapes and creatures of my imagination...  My light brown locks fall past my shoulders, and the memores of my past came to haunt me... 

The darkness... it engulfed me into the shadows... my wrists stung with the rope that binded them, blood dripping from string like chains that cut into my flesh.  I didnt cry...where I wouldnt or couldnt...I was not sure, but I knew...there was no point in crying for my own misery.  I struggled against my bounds, managing to clamber to my feet, and yank desperatly to free myself, the ropes dug deeper and deeper into my skin and I yelped in pain, tears now streaming down my cheeks as I kicked off the stone walls and slammed my foot down on the ropes, trying to yank myself free... a deep pool of crimson gathered at my feet, dying my skirts in a deep maroon.  I stumbled over the uneven ground and colapsed to the ground, my tears fell in the silence, my breath came out in weak and tormented misery.  Suddenly a loud creak echoed about my prison... I squinted as the light plumeted into the lonely dark... the door had opened and he was decending towards me...  I tripped over myself as I struggled to get as far away as possible... he came down the stairs in a drunken fury, gripping my neck and throwing me to the ground in such a force that I could not comprehend...  I squeaked in alarm, and he swung his fist across my cheek, a loud slap echoing about the room.  I fell to the ground, pulling my legs to my chest as he kicked me hard in the ribs...I shielded my face and organs and stayed still...I have learned already that it was best not to run...  as fast as it had begun...it was over...and I was once again was alone in the darkness...

"Miss Stenelend..." I clenched my fists in my fury, my talon like nails digging deep into the wooden desk of my honors clas.s, releasing a dangerous Despite my trauma...I was actually a bright student...  involved in sports due to my swift feet, as my peers put it.  "Ms. Steneled."  I was silent, alone in my thoughts...  "Miss stenelend!", I finally looked up, I gazed at the face of my teacher, Mr. Roberts, I blinked once but waited for what he wanted.  "Ms. Stenelend, please do not vandalize the desks any more then they already are." he scolded, jabbing a figner at me.  My eyes narrowed, my green emeralds like ice...  a boy in my clas.s by the name of Trevor tapped my arm playfully once the teacher walked away.  I smiled lightly at him before returing to my thoughts.

((i gtg, I will do my other charry later))

~Zelos~

Walking into my first clas.s, I say a friendly good morning to the teacher, who I really didn't care about, and sat at a seat next to someone I at least semi-recognized. I was fairly bright, though most people doubted this. I enjoyed school, and I saw it as a way to get away from the ppainful memories that always came back to me, her face always taunting my mind. But at school, I could get away from that, as long as she wan't in the same room. Learning was a way to get away from it all and have something to think about. I waited for the teacher to begin speaking, tapping my fingers along my desk. The teacher introduced himself.He handed out a slip of paper we were supposed to work on, so he could see what level we were all at. I filled mine out wuickly, having little trouble with the questions, but my mind was side-tracked, so a girl the teacher called Ms. Browning was finished first, slapping her paper on his desk. I finish within five minutes after her, turning my paper in to Mr. Delphine. I looked around the room for the rest of the time, waiting for the rest of the students to finish.

~Sheena~

I sat at my desk in the back of the room. The teacher was writing on the blackboard, having us take notes. I sighed to myself and pulled my notebook from my red and black backpack next to me, also pulling the pen I had stored in my pocket. I began writing in neat letters the notes on the board, but eventually my mind got sidetracked. I started doodling pictures, randomly, mostly just scribbles because I crossed out a lot. The teacher was asking questions on our notes already, so I figured I had better pay attention. I was eventually called on, so I had to give my best answer. I spoke quietly, so a  lot of the students didn't hear a word I said, but the teacher seemed satasfied. I slouched back down, absent mindedly jotting down the rest of the notes. I started scratching out drawings of complex flowers on the desk in front of me. I loved drawing flowers, because they were so beatiful. I stopped once I saw the teacher looking at my artwork on the table. "Miss Sheena, you cannot very well bring my desks with you, so if you have a novel or artwork that you simply have to write down, please use a notebook." I stared blankly, but nodded, and took out a different notebook, filling up the page with flowers.