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- >Sunlight seeps through the small gap in your curtains as you groan and roll over, hoping to catch a few more moments of blissful slumber.
- >These plans are unfortunately cut short as your mother awakes you, insisting that yes; you do have to get up and go to school.
- >You are Vincent, GSCE fearing, 15 year old, student extraordinaire.
- >You aren't really that extraordinary, in fact you are quite normal.
- >Apart from your rampant addiction to the internet, and all the splendor it provides.
- >Your mom keeps insisting that escapism isn't healthy, and that I should focus of school and all that boring stuff.
- >You can focus on school after you check your regular sites.
- >You quickly throw on your uniform, tighten your ugly tie and freshen up for the day.
- >Cram all the days books and equipment into your backpack, you really should get a bigger one.
- >Cram cornflakes down your gullet.
- >All good and ready for another depressing day of ugh... learning.
- >Wave goodbyes to over-protective mother.
- >Waltz your ass down to the school.
- >You stand in your usual spot and wait for your friends.
- >Always something exciting going on in your life.
- >Eventually your crew arrives.
- >Your best bro Jack is here as always. Or as you affectionally refer to him as "Spits"
- >A disgusting nickname for a formerly disgusting person.
- >The nickname must have made him catch on.
- >He didn't spit everywhere anymore, which was nice.
- >The ginger fuck.
- "Hey spits."
- >"Hey vinny"
- >That was about as interesting as your conversations get really.
- >He shared your enthusiasm for the internet though.
- >You share some small talk among your group.
- >The bell tolls and you all head off to your respective classes.
- >It is now 2 hours later.
- >Holy shit that maths lesson dragged.
- >Time to get something to eat.
- >You really need to go to the toilet first.
- >You push through the crowded corridors and enter one of the toilets.
- >These new unisex toilets are pretty great.
- >A lot cleaner than the old ones.
- >It even has a mirror too.
- >And the hand dryer isn't smashed!
- >Piss, wash hands, look at self in mirror.
- >Wait.
- >Why the hell are your eyes...
- >Red?
- >That can't possibly be right.
- >Nope, they're bright, vibrant blood red.
- >You were fine this morning.
- >Is this some sort of disease?
- >What kind of illness causes eye discolouration?
- >You stare deep into your blood red irises for several moments.
- >You feel fine! What could it be?
- >You don't have time to worry about this, all the good food is going to be sold before you get outside!
- >You shake your head and head back into the dining hall.
- >You grab some sausage and mash.
- >Damn you love a good sunday dinner.
- >It isn't even sunday.
- >Fuck the police.
- >You grab a seat next to Spits and dig in.
- >He hasn't seemed to notice your sudden eye colour switch.
- >But you have noticed his.
- >They are a firey orange.
- >You were pretty sure he had brown eyes.
- >Okay this is starting to weird you out.
- >You take a bite of your sausage and nearly vomit.
- >Holy crap, you knew the school's food wasn't great, but this is taking it to an entirely new level.
- >Spits seems to share the same sentiment after spitting out a large chunk of meat back
- onto his plate, splattering gravy onto the table.
- >You both shoot each other a strange look and head outside.
- >He strikes first.
- >"Okay Vinny, what the hell is wrong with your eyes? They're bright red for christ's sake."
- "I could say the same for you Mr. Orange."
- >"What?"
- "Your eyes are orange, so don't go asking me for answers."
- >He raises an eyebrow and rushes into one of the nearby bathrooms.
- >He returned dejectedly.
- >"Alright what the hell is wrong with us?"
- "I feel fine Spits, maybe we'll get better tommorrow."
- >"If I don't wake up I'm blaming you."
- "From beyond the grave?"
- >You chuckle and shake your head.
- "Seriously, what's the worst that could happen."
- >"whatever man."
- >He rolls his eyes and sets off to his next lesson.
- >You attention is quickly grabbed by...
- >Damn you always forget this guy's name.
- >He's one of Reece's friends right? Yeah! he tags along sometimes.
- >S-Sam? Shaun! That's it!
- >He's waving you down, so you decide to humour him and head over.
- >You never did like Shaun.
- >He was a pretty awkward guy. He spent most of his time looking at "funny" images he found over the internet, then showing them to you; much to your personal anguish.
- >You are fairly certain you saw a couple of my little pony images flash by last time.
- >You weren't about to say though.
- >That'd be a dick move.
- "What's up?"
- >He pulls out his iPod and sweeps through his shitty image library, before coming to a peculiar image of...
- >An evidently photoshopped picture of a pastel pony. It's pretty well made, almost real.
- >You give Shaun your best, Shit son what the fuck look.
- >He starts sweating bullets.
- "I'm not gonna' ask Shaun."
- >"Dude! Seriously? An entire alien species here on Earth!"
- "Based on a childrens cartoon show Shaun?"
- >"W-well it looks real!"
- "Yeah, fantastic."
- >The heavy air of sarcasm in your voice was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
- >Shaun huffs and storms off.
- >What the hell was that about?
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