A swirling chaos

Emotions, hormones, craziness

Welcome to High School

Gabrielle leaned back in her chair and contemplated her haiku. Creative writing was one of her least favorite classes; the only thing she liked was the poetry part of it. Short stories, novels, she didn't have the patience for it. But poetry, especially haiku, she loved. They were easy to make and profound. 'Now, two more, and a limerick to round off the portfolio.' Gabrielle talked to herself, at least in her head. That wasn't too weird was it?

No voice in my head

No it wasn't. Lots of people talked to themselves why would it be any different in their own head? I mean, we all had to do it. Gabrielle couldn't imagine not talking to herself in her own head

But my own, everything else

Would someone think her insane for talking to herself in her head? How would anyone know she talked to herself in her head, unless they like had telepathy or something. Did that even exist? The power to read minds?

Is only silence

That would be cool if someone could read minds. If she could read minds then she would probably use her power to find out what everyone thought of her and avoid the people who didn't like her, and make friends with only the people who thought she was cool.

As Gabrielle thought to herself, she worked furiously at her poems and didn't notice a bleach-bottle blonde walk into the classroom, a good 20 minutes late. The teacher of the class glared at the girl but the blonde ignored her, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and calmly sashaying over to a (natural) platinum blonde girl in the corner and sat down.

"I honestly don't know what I'm going to do about Ms. Teller, Alice. She hasn't figured out that I have other things to do in between classes. Like hang out with Rickie." The natural blonde, Alice, looked over at the late-comer.

"You guys always hang out at lunch, and in between classes, and you spend every weekend together. Do you honestly need more time with your boyfriend, Becky?" Becky looked at her friend with an exasperated look and sighed.

"Alice when you get a boyfriend you'll understand." Then logged into facebook, and brought up a chat box with Rickie, her boyfriend, and began typing furiously. Alice sighed , and went back to her project. "I don't know how much of Becky I can handle. She's so… so… UGH!" Alice was at a loss for words on how to describe Becky. Shallow, obsessive, and badgering come to mind, but that's just what she thought. Moving on, the girl next to Alice had overheard the conversation and was thinking something similar to Alice.

'I really don't know why cheerleaders are so shallow.' Thought Pheobe. 'They should concentrate on school more, we are the future of this nation and should take advantage of the free education. We also have an obligation to learn all about the world we're inheriting.' Across the room, Mackenzie was oblivious to Pheobe's rant, but had also noticed Becky coming in late.

Mackenzie sighed, everyone thought athletes got away with anything just because they were athletes. That was stereotypical and wrong. Mackenzie was the school record holder for the 100 yard dash and if she walked in late Mrs. Teller would give her a dressing down in front of the class. When Becky walked in it was different though, she was able to sit down with just a glare. And the fact that the football players received the same treatment didn't help the stereotype. Mackenzie sighed again. No point in worrying about it, as long as she kept her head down and her nose clean, nothing would happen.

Caitilyn shifted in her seat and glanced at the clock for the trillionth time. Mrs. Teller's creative writing class was boring. Caitilyn wasn't creative, and she wasn't good with words. She really didn't want to be here, she wanted to be out on the field drilling sets 89 through 102. She was sure her dot in 97 was wrong, because she had such a hard time making it to set 98. Being in marching band was tough, but it was her favorite thing in the world to be doing, and because of that, fall semester was her favorite semester.

Taylor scribbled idly in her notebook, a strange creature taking shape under her pencil. It was vaguely human, but it had strange hair, and wings for arms, Along with a beak instead of a mouth. For some reason Taylor had been having these strange dreams about these chicken creatures for the past week and a half. Taylor knew about dreams, how they were just your mind processing the things of the day in a weird non-linear way, but these felt like more than just dreams. Now Taylor didn't believe in aliens but that was the only explanation for what was going on, next thing you knew she would probably have dreams about a big barn owl that flew her to another dimension where she had to defeat a sorcerer created by her grandfather! That would be weird, especially since Taylor didn't live in Alaska, but Destinies Bend, Minnesota, a decent sized, predominantly white, middle class community. Taylor didn't know Gabrielle, Mackenzie, Pheobe, Caitilyn, or Alice at the time, and none of them knew her. In fact none of these six girls knew each other at all, and were unaware that they had been having the exact same dreams for the same period of time. Unbeknownst to them they were about to become subjects of the greatest social experiment of all time, an experiment where the very fate of mankind hung in the balance.