Oliva could not move her feet, she was still near troom...oom and then the thought process of trying to convince her into going started "if I want to be a journalist I need to go where ever my travels take me" she said to herself turning on her heel walking towards the door, with a puff of breath she blew away her hair from her eyes and reached for the door knob And slowly turned it and slowly stepped into the room. Without a word to anyone was small blonde girl found a seat and laid her notepad on her lap where her stockings met her skirt. She removed her pen from her backpack and started to write keeping to herself half listening to those around her.