Hey guys! Feel free to give out comments and criticism because I need it. At top is a picture of Jane except with peacock green eyes and no fake lashes.

I look up from my homework as the teacher called my name. "Jane! See me after class!" A few people snickered while shoving things into their back back. The bell chimed I groan a bit, walking over to Mrs. Hanker's desk.

"Yes ma'am." My voice is sarcastically honey coated. I wonder what I did this time. Teachers tend not to like me. I'm convinced it's because I actually have opinions that I voice.

"I was just wondering if you studied for that test we took yesterday?" So I didn't do anything. She calls me over purly to ask about my grades. Go figure.

"Of course, why else would you call me when I could be on the bus back to the foster home." I huff, looking at my feet.

"Now you listen hear young lady. I will not tolerate attitude like this, you're lucky they even allow you to live based off your parentage." She hissed. It was strange for her. She seemed to be a nicer teacher, though I guess it was expected.

Despite myself, I raise an eyebrow. Based on my lack of parentage she must have meant. My father was killed sometime ago. I remember, finding the paper when I was near 5 years old. The golden embroidery that made the words seem sadisticly sweet.

Elliott Clarent
K.I.A.

I didn't know what it had meant. I was just a kid, I wish I could be 5 again and forget everything about my life. Wouldn't that be amazing? To start everything over? I would probably just screw it up again like I do everything else. I am a threat unto myself anynd others.

"Yes. Ma'am." I reply harshly through my gritted teeth. I don't like teachers period, but Mrs. Hanker was never that rude directly to me.

"Now, if you must know I have been noticing your behavior spiking and so I will let you of with a warning. Do you understand?!" She said with a gleam in her eye like all she needed was an excuse.

I'm not willing to give her that satisfaction. "Yes. Ma'am."

"You may go now." She spit off the end of each word, most of which ended up on my shoe. I grab my bag and walk out to see my best friend, Juniper, waiting for me.

"What was that about?" She said worriedly. Without the hop in her voice she doesn't sound like herself.

"It's nothing. Let's go home."

Hey guys. Some of you are probably thinking 'Nymphs can't go that far from their tree!' I know that! But Grover is way over used for this stuff. 

Edited: This is actual cringe who reads this stuff?!?!? I just had to fix it, but I kept the general idea of it.

Word count: 493 words