It was the last period on the first full day of school and quite frankly, Ashton just wanted to go home and take a nap. There was nothing quite like an extended break to ruin your sleeping schedule and for Ashton, the past summer was no exception. And to make her impatience even worse, it was a Friday. But for now, she would have to survive through English class and the "new project" that had been announced on the first day of school.

Well, actually, the project had been considered since the end of the last school year, but she hadn't honestly thought it would even be approved. But lo and behold, before her sat a sheet full of questions in regards to the project. "How would you describe your personality?" How the hell was she actually supposed to answer this without being biased? She let out a slight sigh, looking around the room. Everyone else seemed busy hammering away at their sheets, but there was nothing quite like readjusting to writing after any break.

Only about thirty minutes left.

She could do this. Returning to the sheet, she headed for the sections talking about her personality and "life so far". She didn't really have anything creative for username or alias quite yet, so that would wait. And after that was done, she would start mentally drafting up her first e-mail to her assigned partner. What a waste of time.

Feet on desk, gum in mouth, and phone in hand, Darius was doing all he could to curb boredom by scrolling through his chats, but he was lickety-split growing disinterested in them; playing shitty mobile games could only be amusing for so long. Eyes leaving his phone for a moment, all the teen saw were people as eager as him to escape the cage that is Wellbridge High School. The sunny weather, on top of the fact it was Friday, only boosted the boy's desire to leave.

I'll just wait. I mean, there's what, twenty minutes left? No point in risking getting in trouble at this point... yeah. No point. It was a new year which meant more fun, more specifically another Halloween, and the rascal already had ideas for his costume. Ooh! There was also that new English project he was excited about for multiple reasons: a new friend, an easy grade, plus he'd maybe help somebody; Darius couldn't find a reason to hate it if he tried. Unless of course, he got stuck with King Killjoy himself, Julian Edmund. Thoughts left the boy's mind as quickly as they flew in while attempting to occupy himself, but the thought of Julian stirred something in him. Fuck it.
Darius' attention shifted to his study hall teacher. They were seemingly unobservant, too busy focused on watching whatever it is they were watching on their laptop. Having overzealously torn out a piece of paper from his notebook, the juvenile scribbled something with haste before folding it and shoving it into his pocket. A wicked smirk came across his face. He returned his attention his phone before typing with a certain expeditiousness.

To: Danera @Fubsy, Kenzi @Kidd
I'm bored af. Let's do something today! Meet me at the bakery.

Ah. The delinquent looked back at his teacher. Once it was safe, he sneaked away and took one of the many hall passes he carries on him out of his back pocket. After walking for a bit, Darius gleefully slipped the piece of paper he scribbled onto into Julian's locker before chuckling; he relished in pissing off King Killjoy. He walked off to his own locker with a spring in each step, and after snatching his things he hopped onto his skateboard. It was time to get the hell out of here. Going through the halls in a rather noisily manner, he popped an ollie and whispered to himself, "Sick ollie." If the teachers presumed it was a cart or opened their doors and saw him didn't matter to him at this point. Having found an exit, Darius made a swift exit and made his way to the bakery with a smile on his face the whole time.

There were few classes Kenzi weren't half asleep for, and art class one of them. However, it was only the end of the first week and they hadn't really dived into any real projects yet. So she sat in boredom, watching the teacher explain the basics of shading. "Ugh, we learned this in fifth grade!" she complained to the person next to her. "I knew how to shade in, like, second." She dropped her head on table with a thunk; a few students looked over, exchanged glances, and went back to watching the lesson. How much longer would the torture continue?

Her phone buzzed in her pants, and Kenzi sat up in surprise. It was quiet enough to the rest of the class and she sunk in her seat to check the notification. But first, she snickered at her battery percentage and showed the person next to her the 69%. Then, finally, she flicked up the message. Group chat, Darius, and Danera. Her favorite Ds. Being the annoying double texter she was, Kenzi replied quickly:

"When?
"Right now?
"I'm in! :D"

She slipped the phone away and feigned sudden interest in the lesson as she built up the courage to skip out of class. After a few moments of fixing her hair, tapping her black nails against the table, and shifting in her seat, she finally did it. "I need to go to the restroom," Kenzi requested as her hand raised into the air. The teacher paused to eye her; misbehavior from Ms. Hemlock wasn't nonexistent, but she was a somewhat decent student--at least in this class. So, they relented and Kenzi hopped up with a "Thanks!" before quickly leaving the classroom.

Once in the hallway, she made a stop by her locker, dumping her books and homework that wouldn't get done in. Her bag--canvas styled and decorated with skulls and fandom pins--over her shoulder, she pulled her skateboard out instead and promptly headed for the exit. Unlike SOME students, she wouldn't ride the board indoors, though. The last thing she wanted was it for it be confiscated.

It was the first week of school, and already Danera wanted to slam her head against the wall. The incessant tick, tick, tick of the clock filled the dull void of the classroom, accenting the neverending rant of the teacher. Danera stifled a tired groan as she buried her face in her sweater. There were some good things about school. Good friends, dance class, and even that interesting English project. This, however, was stupid. Absolutely stupid.

A soft buzz in her pocket shook Danera out of her sullen mood and, with a hasty look around to make sure the teacher wasn't watching, she quietly slid out her phone. The name of the sender and participants were enough to illicit a small smile. Darius and Kenzi. Trouble always followed those names, and so did fun.



Danny's fingers flew across the screen as she hastily sent the text, eyes flickering up to make sure Mr. Boring remained unaware. Excitement bubbled up in her chest, though she pushed it down. Act later. Right now, she had to figure a way out of the school. Her eyes darted on the room before landing on a familiar and much similar face. Jacob. Her twin and partner in crime. Well, driver in crime, really. He was the only one in the family that had a car, though it was technically share between the two. A car that Danny currently needed.

Jacob's dark eye met hers, responding to her pleading expression with a curiously raised eyebrow. Danera nodded towards the door and mimed a quick driving motion, quietly mouthing, 'Please?'

His eyebrow only raised further.

'Pleeaase?' Danera's mouth formed the silent words, her eyes darting to the door frantically. She needed out now, lest the teacher's droning drove her mad. After a doubt filled second, Jacob reluctantly pulled some keys from his bag and met his sister's gaze with a scolding frown. Danera grinned. As uptight as her brother was, he could never resist her charm.

With a quick bathroom excuse, Danera rose from her seat, slowing as she reached her brother's desk. Jacob slyly slid her the keys and, with a small shake of his head, whispered, "Don't get into any trouble." Danera flashed him a cheeky grin and headed out into the hallway. Finally. She inhaled deeply, embracing the smell of freedom, which, oddly enough, smelled faintly of sweat and old socks. With a skip in her step, Danny headed to her car, the bakery in mind.

While school itself was really lame and boring, Ashley looked forward to the new school year. She was only a junior but if she played her cards right, she'll definitely be the team captain of the cheer leading squad this time, next year. Her big birthday bash was coming up and she was hoping that it would be enough to completely win the seniors over.

"I wonder if Daddy would let me use his yacht..." she thought to herself though she already knew the answer. He was going to say no. He wasn't a very strict father but if there was one thing that she was not allowed to be near, it was his precious yacht. He uses it to take a break from her and her mother.

So she was left with renting out the country club, their mansion, or their beach house. While the country club would be posh, there would be a lot of rules and it was the same with their mansion. But she had her last birthday party at the beach house. She didn't want to do a repeat; that would lower her cred.

She played with her long, blonde hair as she tried to think. Actually, wasn't there supposed to be something that she was doing right about now? Oh right, the English assignment. She had to fill out a survey or whatever and then get an anonymous pen pal that she had to write to every week. She picked up her pencil and began to write in her answers. They weren't that hard as she just had to write about herself. Why couldn't all her assignments be like that?

Satisfied with her answers, she pulled out her phone to text her boyfriend, Wilson. They hadn't been dating for very long but she actually liked him quite a bit.



As she waited for his response, she continued to plan out her birthday party. "I only have about a week and a half to plan this out."

"Four-One!" Wilson tossed the ball up into the air, before using his right hand to come down on the ball with a snapping motion. The ball flew down on the other side hard and fast, leaving the opposing team little time to react. It was now five-one, with Wilson's side leading. Wilson wasn't too surprised. After all, he had a pretty stacked team with all of the varsity players against the new players of the volleyball team. The volleyball coach always liked the varsity team to scrim with the "casuals". Wilson never really understood why, the varsity team always stomped the new players soundly.

Luckily for the new players, the coach decided to put an end to the massacre and end practice early. Wilson quickly switched into his casual clothes in the locker room, not even taking time to socialize with his teammates like he usually did. In his defense, it wasn't every day that coach ended practice early. Wilson was going to just grab his backpack in his other locker and just chill for the remainder of the period.

After finding his way into the hallways, Wilson spun the dial on his locker a few times. It was the first day after all, he wasn't going to memorize his combo right away. To make matters worse, the second Wilson was able to remember his combo and open his locker, his backpack fell onto the ground and his papers flew all over the place. Guess that was karma for not zipping up his backpack completely before throwing it in the locker.

As Wilson began to pick up the miscellaneous sheets of paper, he stopped as he came across the Syllabus for the "Dear Anonymous" project. It was strange really. Why would the english teachers care about emails or IMs they sent to someone they didn't even know? If it wasn't worth so many points, Wilson would have probably ignored it. He wasn't so sure the teachers were truthful about respecting their privacy anyway.

But Wilson jammed the sheet into his backpack. He really needed to worry about the mess he made first. The project wasn't due till the end of the year anyway, so he wasn't going to overthink it.

Wilson heard a slight ding, informing him that he had received a new text. He rummaged through his pockets, sifting through miscellaneous wrappers and other crap before managing to get a sturdy grip on his phone. Wilson turned on his screen to find he had received a text from Ashley. It was probably to ask him to go out with her tonight again, as she did every other day.



Ashley... was predictable at least, but it didn't really make the relationship any better. Ashley always wanted to be around him, and quite frankly, it was emotionally tolling. Before Ashley, after practice Wilson would usually go home, but now he found himself being dragged along to do god knows what. The times Wilson would decline usually meant Ashley texting him all night anyway, so he found it more productive to just go along with her plans. She was sweet but... Ashley was too much for him. In fact, Wilson couldn't bear to actually try and break up with her. Not to mention the awkward interactions his normal group would have when they would figure out they weren't a thing anymore.

The emotion was not necessarily panic, but unease. The first day of school, already this was a nightmare for her, even if her brother had started going to school, she barely knew him. She looked about the classroom, eyes constantly on the clock, and the other students. "Was someone going to make fun of me again?" she thought. Everyone else was doing their homework in class, Algebra, a concept she knew well enough, but everyone else had their groups. Celeste was never sure if she could possibly have a group of three or more people working with her, what not with being called a "Vampire" often, and some girls even using less polite terms which she had no idea to respond to, let alone comprehend. "Bitch", "Skank", along with a few other terms she wouldn't want to be caught dead thinking. She always changed in the bathroom rather than the locker room, let alone carried more than one bag, so she could at least pretend that they think she's gone off to someone. Although in her mind she'd know that anyways, even if they think it's true, it never will be. It'd be scandalous, make her unliked reputation even worse, and most of all, she'd get a stern talking to from her mother Katherine.

The school may be part of a place in the middle of nowhere, formerly she had gone to a city that had a bigger high school, but being out of her comfort zone in a smaller house compared to the luxury of the family estate was a big, shocking change. Celeste knew at least a few others, but no one bothered her at her former high school, and taking a year away from the estate had done much to bother her. Why would people call her those names? Was it because she's from the high-class? Was it because it's fun to make fun of people who looked so different? Was it because of her clothes choice, or did someone know about something? "No no no, I've learned from my mistakes, paranoia won't get me anywhere. Even if they did know something, one way or another."

Celeste continued to scribble down on her homework nervously, her mouth going slightly wavy as she started to break out a cold sweat, although she kept her head low to not draw attention. Although she could already feel everyone elses' gaze, she tried her hardest not to panic, she was, as her mother puts it on occasion, she's a delicate flower, capable of wilting at the slightest touch, whatever that meant. Even her hoodie, which looked like was big for her, was white with rosen designs at the end, no vines, but just simple roses, of course, the area between the petals were also white in this case too. She started to ask questions, various ones at that "Does this school have a uniform? Do they have any sports teams, does eSports exist here?" Et cetera et cetera. Celeste herself was part of a team made up of herself and her friends from the old high school, one of which had given her fashion tips.

But that's all in the past, she had to deal with her temporary one-year life here, outside of her comfort zone, outside of people respecting and greeting her in town with "Miss Noire". She didn't entirely like attention, good or bad, but she preferred bad attention over good attention, anyways.. She looked at the clock, finding two minutes towards the end of the period. She decided to pack up her things in order to leave. It wasn't long now until she was given a text on her phone informing her about an e-mail. "I'll look at it when I get home, I guess..or rather...'home'.."

Twenty minutes.

That's what went on in Allen's head, he was playing baseball with his fellow students, some had leave for practice, others were on what's known as a free period, where they could do whatever they want provided it doesn't breach the school policy. Of course, what truly went on his head wasn't about the free period, he's had a slew of those before, and probably won't stop getting them now. After all, one year is all that's left until the removal of a very big problem he found in his side, school. After this year he'd graduate, and unto that, he could do whatever he wanted with his life, join the military, the workforce, or go to college. Allen had particularly come from a semi-wealthy family, but not enough to be considered middle-high or high class, compared to a few of his other friends. But rather, called semi-wealthy since true wealth to him was a number of things that he found worth in.

Nineteen minutes..

His phone had buzzed to find another obstacle, an E-Mail from the teacher, he had his own E-Mail set up as his school one, but he was provided with the credentials to use for another account, instructions, and who else to e-mail, as well as being told very specifically in detail "Break anonymity, and you'll get a zero for this project.", otherwise in layman's bullshit terms, "break anonymity and you'll fail this class." Allen looked up as a rather sharp CLINK! had resounded from a student's bat, he missed that linedrive past the second baseman. He frowned, because not only this meant that the bases were loaded and now things are fair game as the centerfielder had quickly reacted to get the ball to the pitcher.

But it was his turn, Allen rose up, straightening his sports blazer and grabbing his Easton Black Magic bat, it was black, with silver and red around the brand name of the bat. He started to assume position before he had heard an ever so familiar voice going by and away from the field.

"Viiiiirgiiiiin!"

Allen turned around, only to get hit in the shoulder by the baseball after a wayward pitch from the pitcher no less, everyone had heard that, granted, the members of the team were used to heckling. "Well, that hurt..." Allen had thought, granted, the pitcher only grinned. Said pitcher was a kid that Allen didn't get along with on occasion, and found annoying, but never found it worth the time to remember him but by last name, which even then, he didn't want to remember. He pointed the bat the kid and waited for another pitch.

Seventeen minutes...

"Bye, Virgiiiin~!" , those were the words he heard, hearing it when the pitch came made Allen's blood boil, it was a slider, but he wanted to hit it enough to make a point. The ball carried up, not so much as high due to bats not being particularly known for their swinging power below, but rather it hit off the ground and into the pitcher's groin, carried up in both ways to Allen's expectations. It hurt to watch, but Allen didn't care, because it didn't hurt too much. Instead, a sneer was rather plastered around his mouth as he proceeded to take his base.

Still skating, Darius' phone vibrated in his pocket, so he whipped it out to see Kenzi and Danera were down to hang. A signature wicked smirk materialized on his face. Today was gonna be fun.



His eyes twinkled, a smirk became an overjoyed smiled, and all of his face brightened, for sanctuary was within his vision. It was beautiful. Just looking through the crystal clear windows of the glass front, Darius saw enough cakes, donuts, and cookies to stuff his face with that it almost brought a tear to his eye. Pretty pink and white tiles reflected off the heaven-like lighting of the store, but the pink and white seats overshadowed the floor that Darius would willingly eat baked goods off of. Pink booths and chairs, white tables, and most noteworthy, a white cylinder. It refused to be like the rest of the seats. There was no cushioning, no back support! People may look at it and ask why? Why would such a poor excuse for a chair exist? Darius could only imagine the chair would look back, a blank expression on its face, and tell them that it didn't care about their approval before flipping them off with its nonexistent chair hands.

Darius finally opened the door after standing there and looking inside for almost a minute, smiling the whole time. The bell that rang whenever someone entered lost its purpose, for the employees working there noticed the teenager long before he actually walked inside. Excitement peaked, the boy walked up to them and examined their goods before picking what he always did: Lotus Flower cookies. The employee wasn't surprised; those cookies were usually all that kid got. Grabbing the bag they handed him, the rebel actually paid for the cookies and sat himself into a booth where he simply ate his cookies, made what almost sounded like moans while eating them, and stared at the white chair.

Jordan was one of the first in his English class to hand in the filled out sheet for Dear Anonymous.

He had heard about the project from his little sister, Celeste, over the summer and then again earlier that day. Before the school year had started, he spent a majority of his summer days shyly asking his younger sister for opinions and thoughts on what life and his school life would be like while at Wellbridge. Her answers weren't exactly satisfactory as she didn't socialize in the mainstream much herself.

In short? He was a new kid spending his Senior year in the Middle of Nowhere on his own. It didn't stop him from being damn optimistic about it though. It gave him an opportunity to reinvent himself, something that he generally didn't plan on doing anyway, but still! It was an option if he ever decided to act upon it.

It was a bit unfair that he knew nobody though. And as people began to finish up, he noticed that some had begun texting, talking or whispering to one another, leaving him to his own devices. Quite literally in this case as his attention drew to his Canon Rebel T5 which sat at the corner of his desk. It wasn't new, but it was still impressive.

He looked at the clock. Still another twenty-five minutes left of class.

Simplicity.

That was what Quentin loved the most. Simplicity in its finest form. Grace in subtle movements, the clear proceedings of lines and curves, the ever gradual transition from innocent white to an ashen grey. All with accidental purpose. Utmost simplicity.

Quentin paused for a moment eyes, the pencil between his fingers twirling and tilting. Around, up, down, around once more. Then, after a breath or two, his pencil was back to dancing, a trail of grey footprints in its wake. Long, dark strokes arcing through the scalp. Soft grey irises beneath a hard, piercing stare. Long nose, soft lips, no name. Who was she? No one, yet someone. She had life, but was lifeless. A soul in a soulless medium. But who was she? She was a nameless girl carved with softened rocks on a dead lead to cure boredom.

How dull. Quentin sighed and finally set down the pencil, glancing at the clock as he stretched his back. He faintly registered talking in the background, the words escaping his interest. Blah blah blah. The same words over and over again. How long did he have to endure this blasphemous torture? The same old nonsense, over and over again. He knew this, and knew it well. The basic 'Hello!' that everyone gave so often that became needlessly stupid. Hello! Hello! Hello! Like a dog that had been poorly imagined. It was, in of itself, utterly fucking useless.

With a sigh, Quentin picked up his pencil and continued the sketch. It would do know good to linger on the obvious. He'd be home soon enough, anyways. His parents would be gone for a while, thank goodness, which meant an empty house all to himself. Perfect.

Ava, Son of John | Day One of the Dear Anonymous Experiment | September is not the seventh month

Ava Johnson sat at her desk and stared blankly into the board as their teacher spoke. She had been doing this all day, just in different classrooms. It was not a very satisfying activity. There was nothing more to be said; Ava was a very normal girl.

But this facade of normalcy was but a mask shrouding the abyss of her twisted mind; a bulwark meant to protect not only herself, but also protect others. Deep inside, there was a hidden, animalistic urge, a repressed desire for conquest and dominance. A desire that would never come to pass, lest her inner demons take hold. For the good of the world,. she, as a good Christian girl, could not allow for herself to lose control, to allow the dark corruptive forces consume her slowly blackening maiden's heart. So she must persist, a lone sentinel. Nobody would know her struggle; nobody would know her sacrifice. But alas! No matter how steadfast Ava stood against her own shadows, her integrity was failing. She was succumbing to the all-consuming grasp of boredom. It soon became clear that she must release her occult energies lest she do something she regret.

Ava Johnson looked at her desk. On it was a blank paper in the center, and a pencil in the corner. She picked up the pencil and immediately she understood what she had to do.

She set the pencil on the paper. _{What? You thought she was gonna draw a picture of a dank-ass doge? Go away.} Now with all the components for this test of power in place, her garnet eyes locked on the implements before her. The eyes were the windows to the soul, and by their power she would force the world to bend to her whim.

Ava Johnson blew on the desk in front of her, sending the pencil rolling off the edge and the paper gliding to the ground.

The conclusion to be learned here was obvious to the master. 'I see,' she thought, narrowing her eyes at the sight of her own power, 'It appears that my power is too potent even for myself. This... is troubling.' Her mouth closed tightly, so that no evil would escape her lips. It was clear she needed more practice to hone her control over the dark arts. She would try again soon.

Ava leaned to the side to see if her foot could reach her stuff without needing to move her body weirdly. Unfortunately Ava could not reach her fallen pencil and paper. "Samuel," she asked her associate next to her, "Can you pick those up for me please?"

Once outside, Kenzi stepped onto the skateboard and she was rolling. The wheels on pavement echoed loudly through the quiet parking lot as she made her way for the exit. Her heart was still beating quickly and loudly--little thrills like ditching school still gave the sophomore a rush of excitement and adrenaline. It wasn't something she did very often, despite the people she hung out with. "Woo hoo!" she exclaimed as she rolled down an incline, squinting against the wind that blew her dark hair around. With the skateboard rumbling underneath her shoes, she didn't feel her phone vibrate with more texts, but she reached into her pockets to light a cigarette instead.

Then, soon enough, she caught the aroma of warm, baked goods. Cookies, fresh bread, muffins. "Ahhh..." she sighed as she approached the bakery. Once in front, she hopped off her board, letting it roll toward the entrance, before ditching the cigarette butt. She followed her wheels and picked it up as she entered the bakery, her bright blue eyes searching for Danera or Darius or both.

"Hey!" she greeted Darius. As she sat, she snaked a freckled hand into his bag of cookies and stole one from the other student. "Thanks!" She bit into the cookie and leaned back against her seat, enjoying the taste with a "Mmmm."