Fire Locks

Chapter 7

Elizabeth's pov

"Ay, bitch, get up." Atlas crooned as he kicked open my door with little to no mercy. I let out a groan as he and Mark both entered the greasy domain that was my room. Clothes strewn everywhere, plates of half-eaten food laying about. It was a true trash heap. God, I fucking hate it here. I'm tired. I really couldn't care less about our sensei's weird test of legitimacy. If they want to send me back to the academy, let them. "You're late. By like, two hours at this point. It's time to get off your ass and get ready."

That caught my attention somewhat. It was enough to make me roll over and squint at them, at least. Briefly, I heard Nev hit his head on the doorframe two times before he finally remembered he had to duck. When he did, he looked rather amazing, as though he hadn't ever thought of it before. I gave yet another groan, closing my eyes again and trying to hold in my tears as my blankets were ripped off of me. Who though me being a ninja was a good idea in the first place? It's not like I can really use chakra or anything. 

 "Ugh, why?" I finally allowed myself to look at their traitorous faces. Their expressions lacked remorse of any kind, as though their punishment were anything less than cruel and unusual. I can't believe the audacity. In my own home! I am a true believer in the 'I wake up when I wake up' method. Things will usually work out just fine! Was I almost kicked out of the academy twenty-seven times for being late? Absolutely! But the fact of the matter is that Iruku-sensei is a soft hearted pussy who didn't have it in him to boot my orphaned ass out. So you see? It all worked out.

"Because you're fucking late, dumbass." Mark shrugged as though it were that simple. Why're they calling me so many names this morning? Is this profanity really necessary? I can't believe I fraternize with such vulgar individuals. Oh the lows I've dropped to just to survive in this awful, horrible world. Oh well, I guess. It iz what it iz, as they say in the ancient lexicon of whatever the fuck my magic book is. Or something. Truth is, I don't actually know.

Magic is a fickle thing, you see. There are parts of that book I still can't open and that I still can't read, which isn't very cash money if you ask me. Again, what do I know? Clearly not a lot if I can't explain why it won't open all the way. Some pages are blank, others are stuck together in chunks, and a majority are in a language I can only somewhat discern. And by somewhat I mean not at all. What do I look like? A multilingual individual? I could never be that smart! 

"Alright, alright; we don't have time for this. Nev, you go get her clothes. Mark, you and I are on hair duty." Atlas instructed with poise, tossing mark a wide-toothed comb and a bottle of whatever curly shit they put in my hair to make it less poofy. I don't ask questions. We don't question what's in our flu vaccines every year, I don't question what they do to make my hair not look like a complete bird's nests. Life is like that. It comes, it goes, and it fucks shit up. And I uh... stand by that. Whatever that means. It's too early for me to actually know what's happening.

"O-Okay." Nev nodded before turning on his hooves and scurrying out of the room so he could get to the washing machine. I opened my mouth to tell him he could just get my clothes out of my dresser but stopped myself. It would only upset him. You see, Nev operates on a different plane of thought. Do I know what goes through his head on a daily basis? No. The guy is a fucking nutjob and I have no idea how his brain works. However, I acknowledge that there are some things you just don't fuck with. And serial killer deer-taurs are on that list. 

Mark and Atlas both plopped down on the bed behind my sleepy self as I sat myself up. They started spraying shit and putting weird oils in the mess I call my hair. I didn't even try looking back. Last time I did I got hair-sprayed directly in the eyes and was blind for the following eight hours. It's a miracle my locks are as healthy as they are considering the weird concoction they're drenched in every morning.