The Adventures Of Animine Opalsean

by **lil28** Sat Nov 17, 2012 10:12 pm

Copyright. Severe Death awaits you if you infringe
The Adventures of Animine Opalsean
The Great Mark
Prologue
Tracy Opalsean was a tall brunette with a kind smile and well worked hands. She was averagely tall, with blue eyes. Nothing above average. Not at first sight. That saying, that ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ saying, it was created by her ancestors. So as the young woman staggered down the gloomy, dark, abandoned street, any person who passed by in a car just thought her a pregnant homeless woman. They were disgusted by her. But Tracy was no person to be disgusted by. She was an exceptional woman with much talent. But she had been thwarted. By the Mislead Ones, as they were called by Tracy’s side. She was the last, as far as she knew. The building had blown, and Tracy was the one who had survived. That was it. Her ancestors had ‘won’. Though as far as she knew, everyone lost. Victory never came without a price. And that was a hard price. She had lost all her family but one. The little baby she was about to give birth to. She wasn’t stupid – she knew she was too weak to survive a birth. So she laid there, in that dark alleyway, her agonized screams echoing throughout the desolate street.
Once she had the little girl in her hands, she couldn’t help smiling. She knew at once what to call her. The girl had bright green eyes that shone with mischief, and a frown that could make you want run and hide in shame for making someone so pure and wonderful be so sad. Tracy cut the grotesque and slimy umbilical cord unevenly with a sharp rock, before rummaging in her pockets for a pencil and paper. She knew this was what she had to do, though it broke her heart to know she wouldn’t see her wonderful child grow up. On the paper, she printed her child’s name. Just before she wrapped her child in her own shawl, she pressed her wrist against the little girl’s own. It burned for a minute, and then a mark in the shape of a crescent moon appeared on her child’s wrist. She then tucked the paper inside the shawl, before she lay down in the filthy gutter, about to finally give in to death. She took one last look at the beautiful baby next to her.
“Do me proud, my girl. I’ll always be watching you. Always know that. Because I know you’ll carry the Opalsean name far. The Last of the Opalseans. And I just wish I could tell you all about it, but I can’t. You’ll have to find out yourself.” She touched Animine’s cheek. “I love you, Animine Opalsean.”
As she took her final breath, young Animine blinked her big green eyes, as if she understood the whole situation.
* * *
During the long night, Animine was silent. It was strange, the newborn lying awake and silent, next to her mothers corpse. The sun split the darkness, and brightness took over the day. A male nurse who had just finished his evening shift was the first to tread the paths in the morning. He was about to walk past the alley when he noticed Animine and the body. He immediately walked over to her, picked her up and took her to the nearest children’s home. Named Winterchoytes Children’s Home. There were plenty of children there – but no orphans. Kids with parents on drugs, alcoholics, abuse, and yet there was not one orphan. He opened the door, and talked to the woman at the desk. She was bleary – eyed, it was obvious she had just woken up. She took Animine in immediately, and that was that. The most important girl ever was just plonked in a cot, in a children’s home. Nobody knew what was going to happen in years to come. They didn’t have a clue.

Chapter 1
Shomty Ganor
Animine woke up, and yawned. She scraped her gingery-brown hair into a neat ponytail before going downstairs for breakfast. Her room was very high up, in the attic. Furnished with black and purple, her favourite colours, made it look smaller than it was. The room was as small as a walk-in wardrobe, just enough space for a bed and chest of drawers. Her possessions littered over the bed and floor, but in a neat, orderly way. All her clothes were inside the chest of drawers. She loved that room, even if it was the tiny one.
Animine hadn’t changed much in the eleven years she’d been at Winterchoytes. She had gotten exceptionally tall for her age though, a large 5ft 8”, whereas most of the Year 7s were a measly 4ft 11” – 5ft 5” Freckles dotted around her nose and some strayed over her cheeks, but the effect made her look quite pretty. She had a long gingery-brown hair, which often was straight, but sometimes curled. Her hair was quite random, changing shape as often as it likes. Her smile was the same as it was when she was a newborn, so mischievous and genuine. And it still made you want to run and hide in shame if it turned upside down. Her eyes were bright green, but they ad a faint blue hint in them. So subtle you would have to look quite close to notice. They glinted with joy and sparkled with happiness when she laughed.
Skipping downstairs, she excitedly wondered what her first day of Year 7 would be like. She had, unfortunately, got into the nearest school, Shomty Ganor Senior, the local comprehensive. On one hand, it was the nearest and largest school in the borough. On the other, it was the oldest, most vandalised school in the whole of the United Kingdom. It wasn’t a school you paraded the fact you went to, but Animine was excited even so. A new school, a new start. Though, a fair point would be that most of the people from Shomty Primary would be there.
All the children were chomping on their cornflakes. Animine grabbed a bowl and started to eat to. She looked around the table. The children here ranged from four to seventeen. Looking back at her cereal, she let the excited nerves run through her head. She ended up not eating. Excusing herself, she dashed back upstairs to get changed into her second hand uniform.
Shomty Ganor uniform was an ugly grey and black. Once Animine had hers on, she lost her individuality. Looks wise, she was just another Shomty Ganor pupil. Not a person, but, inside, she was the most individual girl ever. She hated being the same, and thrived on being unique. If twenty people took the easiest route, she’d take the hard one, just to be different. She didn’t mind the uniform though. She expressed herself through words and actions.
Singing to herself, she walked out Winterchoytes Children’s Home for the walk to the school. She was meeting up with her friend, Zoey Manfeild, at the bus stop. Finally, she got there, and Zoey was waiting.
Zoey was a blonde with deep blue eyes. Her blonde hair was cut to just above her shoulders. She was 5ft 5”, and not to wide. She was as skinny as a stick insect, Animine said. Zoey would usually chuckle and say something about how bad her digestion system was. It had been since she was young, and so she was reduced to an uncomfortable skinniness if Zoey ever got so thin you could see her bones, she would personally make her eat tonnes of fatty foods. Her face often lit up in happiness. You could never stay unhappy around Zoey. Always, she was cracking jokes.
“Excited, Annie?”
“You know it Zo.”
They had a brief conversation about Shomty Ganor before the bus got there. Only five minute drive there, so they decided to sit at the bottom.
“Y’know we get a trip tomorrow, summit about ‘Welcoming students with a trip.’ Piffle, if you ask me, I personally bet they actually are trying to mask how rubbish this school will be.” Zoey said.
Animine had read the leaflet. Zoey had been correct; there was a free school trip on their second day. To the Dance theatre, apparently.
“Aww, Zoey, who cares? It’s a free trip!”
[b]