((OOC--Who are they? I can play them too?))
(((
OOC://Alice's intro)))
Alice sighed, frustration furrowing her thin brows, running her fingers across the smooth, pale teak desktop. Mr. Barja was rambling on in his harsh, scratchy voice in the front of the room, nervously tapping his own desk with a ruler, obviously not wanting to move his three hundred pounds. He was ADHD, or so Alice assumed from his fidgety behavior.
She was in thought, thinking about some of the other students. Her main duty, or in her mind, was finding some answers this year. Her junior year had to prove more helpful than her sophomore has—that was her resolution for the year. Tapping her finger ever so slightly, Alice blinked one eye shut.
“Alice! What was the practice of Ahimsa?!” Barja barked. A few students sighed and looked at her for the answer—they, themselves, had not been paying attention and were curious to know, in case they were horrifically called upon too.
Her voice, alike to the low melody of piano notes, rang out on the classroom. She recited the answer in a charming perfection. “Ahimsa is the practice of non-violence—mainly used by Ghandi and Martin Luther—”
“Yes, yes! I didn’t ask you to go into detail, you know!” He snapped back, flushing purple. The other students laughed and stared at her as Barja rambled on about ahimsa.
Alice dug her nails into the palm of her hand. Her world spun around her. Her breaths shortened into shallow pools of air that she couldn’t observe. She felt so stuffy. /Kill them all…/a small, chortling voice inside her begged. /Kill them and then fly away…kill…/she shook her head. No, she wouldn’t blow it today. She wouldn’t, even if it killed her to resist. She buried her face in her hands and cringed, terrified of herself. /I wish I hadn’t come./