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Chapter 1: Call Me Emery
The trees swirled before me. There are just so many trees. Big trees, little trees, medium trees, depressed trees, happy trees…how can there be so many bloody trees? It’s not natural.
Trees are from the natural world and…and there I go, going on about how it’s not natural that there are so many damn trees in one place…
“Emery, are you drunk?”
The trees warped and blurred in my vision. They lookedl like a haze of of disconnected colors. I think somone just talked. It echoed incoherently around me.
“Alright, that’s it young lady. You are going up to the main cabin right now and signing yourself in.”
The world spun around me once again. So many colors. My tongue was thick, my eyes were half closed. But I think I’m walking forward.
Then why does there seem to be a huge leaf strewn wall heading straight for my face?
Wait, where the bloody hell am I again? Oh Merlin, I don’t remember! C’mon brain! Work for me! Why are there so many trees again? What is this place?
My name is Emerina Tabitha Alixson, by the way . But if you dare call me by my full first name, I will hex you into oblivion. I don’t know what my parents were on when they named me, but it must’ve been some bloody strong shit. You can call me Emery. I know, nice to meet you too. Don’t bother to introduce yourself because I will forget who you are within the segment of about thirty seconds.
My mum's voice faded in and out of my hearing.
My face stung and my chest constricted. All I saw and felt were the rough and warped texture of the brown ground.
Someone yanked my arm roughly. The blur of colors swum around me in a haze of green and brown. My head spun.
My mum roughly pushed me forward and the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by dank dark wooded walls, dripping with moisture and coated with moss. Where the hell are we? In a shack? I don’t remember seeing a shack. WHEN THE HELL DID THE BLOODY SHACK SHOW UP?
“Emerina! Stop screaming. Bloody hell, I was so stupid to leave the damn liquor cabinet unlocked…”
The low hacking cough silenced my mum. I looked up and saw a huge wooden desk littered with stacks upon stacks of paper. It looked strangely out of place in the middle of a dark dank shack. But the person sitting behind it looked like he or she fit in well. When I say he or she, I mean it. I mean, “it” was huge. “It” had a manly round face with plump dry lips, dark snide eyes, and wild grey hair. It was wearing robes that suggested feminity, but then again, I might be seeing things wrong. I mean, the robes look purple! Who the fuck wears purple robes in the middle of a damn shack in a forest with way to many trees?
“Thank you Miss Alixson for your endearing rant, but my robes are purple and yes, I am a woman.”
Her eyes traveled over me in dark contempt and disapproval. She then used one of her thick grubby fingers to sift through one of the huge stacks of papers. Finally, she pulled it out and examined it before looking back up at me again.
“Emerina Tabitha Alixson, born April 7th, 1960, age 17. Resident of London, England and student attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry. Am I correct?” Her tone was challenging, snide, defying…bleeding fat bitch.
And my name is Emery, you fucking toerag.
“Well, Miss. Alixson, you will need to learn to keep that mouth of yours shut,” she sneered back at me.
Her words floated in and out of my ears. The man lady looked really fat one second, and then really thin the next. The room kept spinning.
“Anyways, everything should be in order. I presume Dumbledore has submitted her application?” Man lady asked, her eyebrow raising slimily at my mum.
“Yes, yes, of course," my mum's voice floated toward me from somewhere, warping and beating at the insides of my head like a drum.
I saw something come straight at my face. It looked like a thick and ugly brown wall. A dirty wall filled with shit. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the impact of the wall against my head and my body.
I couldn't see...I couldn't see....
Every time I tried to back away from the wall, it just seemed to find my face again.
Finally, the wall flew backwards away from me as I felt another yank on my arm. My head pounded angrily and my throat was burning. My mouth tasted bitter and my tongue was lodged against the roof of my mouth.
The wall seemed to want to find my face again, but my mum's hand was fierce against my sore arm.
Man lady stood up, and whipped out her wand in an almost bored fashion. Her face warped in and out of my vision, but I think I saw some irritation there.
“Everything seems to be in order. Miss Alixson will now attend her physical examination, and then she’ll join the rest of the campers for lunch,” she said in a low and gravelly voice. But I could barely hear her.
The wall seemed to come at my face again, but my whole body seemed to be yanked back again.
“Well, this one will definitely need some work,” Man lady inquired once again, the dark shadows twirling around her face, making her eyes look even blacker than they already were.
The shack spiraled and quaked under my feet. I smelt strawberry perfume. Nasty. I hate strawberry perfume. The smell made my stomach turn over. Then I realized that I was leaning heavily in a pair of pale white arms.
“Be good, Emery," said the quiet voice of my mum. It blew across my ear and swirled around my head
“I know it may seem like a long time, but it’s for your own good. I’ll see you in two months.”
Two months...two months for what? Why am I here, again? Two months....
My mum finally let go of me and I hiccupped. My chest burned unpleasantly and the wall seemed to fly at my face again. The unappealing sensation suddenly made me really angry. I hate my life. No one understands me. Boohoo. Wah, wah. Angst overdose.
After a few more moments, I felt the arms leave me and the damn wall seemed to find my face again. I felt another violent yank that made my head spin unpleasantly and the wall seemed to dissapear. The man lady grunted unpleasantly before whipping out her wand and summoning a purple vial from the dark depths of her desk.
She caught the small vial with her grubby hand and then reached out toward me with it.
I just looked at it. It tilted forward and backwards. My limbs felt like lead. I couldn't reach out and take it.
“Blasted girl, just take the bloody thing and drink it! It will wash away the alcohol in your system and prevent a hangover,” she spat at me, her eyes flashing as she shook the vial, attempting to thrust it further in my direction.
I think I said something. The world went sideways and I knew that I was probably swaying on the spot. Left, Right. Left, Right.
“No? You’re a selfish little bleeder aren’t you? You’re going to need to learn to do what you’re told if you want to survive Morgana Wood.”
Her words traveled through my head, swirling angrily against my already pounding brain. What did she say? Morgana Wood? Why did that name seem achingly familiar?
My hand flew forward and grappled at the purple. I managed to take it from man lady's hands. I smashed the top of the bottle against the smarmy shack desk, the sound of cracking glass splitting angrily at my ears and slicing through the thick haze that coated my senses.
My eyes widened at my sudden actions. Was I supposed to be drinking this?
The liquid within the vial fizzed and sizzled. It was a bright lavender color that matched the shade of the vial. I swung my head back dramatically, resulting in my head to pound and spin once more. I tipped the contents of the vial into my mouth. It was ice cold.
It numbed my tongue and seemed to coat my gums and cheeks with frost. My teeth felt nonexistent and a strange sensation of what felt like ice cold liquid flowed through my veins, numbing them, and then warming them up.
The pounding in my head seemed to slow, my eye sight started to grow sharper, and my tongue didn’t feel thick anymore. Immediately, my thoughts seemed to un-cloud and I started to realize why I’m truly here.
Fucking hell, I hate being sober.
I felt weaker when I was sober, more vulnerable, angrier at the world.
The fact is that everybody thinks I need professional help. Everybody from my mum to this man lady standing impatiently in front of me to Dumbledore. The idea sent a sensation of fiery hot anger and weighing depression through my veins that I knew only firewhiskey could temporarily get rid of.
“There. You’re more bearable already,” the man lady remarked snidely as she waved her wand hastily at the files on her desk, causing them to reorganize themselves. The sound of cluttered paper made me cringe and I clenched my fists.
I could now fully comprehend everything. The walls of the shack felt like they were closing in on me and my head started to pound even more unpleasantly than it had under the influence of alcohol. I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Ah, silent are we? Let’s keep it that way,” she added, her shallow eyes calculating. I looked down at my black boots. I wanted to badly to say something, anything to defend myself, but I was just so pissed and frustrated to the point of silence. Fine. Whatever. Just let the damn bitch say and think what she wants.
The man lady gave a huge gravelly sigh before she swished her wand nonchalantly in a spiraling movement above her head. I stared at her stupidly before I felt a curious sensation travel through up my arms and down my spine. I shuddered slightly before realizing that man lady held a pack of cigarettes and my silver flask full of firewhiskey mixed with Irish spirits.
Fuck. I forgot to get rid of those.
Man lady swung the flash open without any visible effort and held it under her nose, which wrinkled at the stench. Her eyes were scrutinizing me, glaring at me as if I were the most disgusting thing in the world.
“I will be taking these.” She said in a low gruff voice.
“Will I be getting them back?” I asked shakily, clenching my fists and cursing myself for being so careless.
Man lady placed both the pack of cigarettes and the flask on the desk. I watched in complete horror as she pointed her wand at the two items with a dark scowl on her face. With a crackling noise, both of them burst into flames for a split second, before evaporating, leaving nothing but a pile of ash. The stench filled my nostrils and I wanted to murder the bloody man hag.
Talk about destruction of blasted property! Doesn’t this stupid bitch even know basic English liberties? They’ve been around since…oh…I don’t know, the sixteen hundreds. It took a lot of energy to nick that flask from the Diagon Alley liquor store! C’mon!
With another flick of her wand, man lady cleaned the ashes from her desk, leaving absolutely no trace of what was once my personal property. She then around to face the opposite wall behind her desk, showing nothing but her huge gargantuan backside. Let me tell you, it wasn’t pleasant to see a purple bulbous rhinoceros. It clashed angrily with the mossy dank walls.
I didn’t know what she was doing. Her fat backside was blocking any view. For some reason, this frustrated me greatly. After a few more seconds of me just standing there impatiently, there was a deep rumbling that resonated throughout the whole shack. The dark mossy walls seemed to crumble slightly and I felt my legs shook uncontrollably.
Oh blast, I was going to fall. I saw that man lady’s back was still to me and she didn’t seem to be affected by the shaking whatsoever. Her weight probably plays a savior in that factor.
Suddenly, with a lurch, the shaking stopped and I toppled forward, falling flat on my face. The harsh ground knocked the wind out of me, and I knew from the stinging and aching pain developing on my elbows, knees, and shins, that I probably will end up with a few scrapes and bruises. I groaned and forced myself to my feet, wishing that I could just die right now and then I’ll be in a sort of underworld where firewhiskey was abundant.
“Clumsy girl,” spat man lady, not even making eye contact with me. Without another breath, she sat back down at her desk and started shuffling through papers.
I stared at her blankly. What the fuck is she expecting me to do? I put my hands in my jacket pockets, I took them out. I tapped my foot and gritted my teeth nervously. I knew that my knees were probably bleeding and that my arms were building up with nasty bruises.
I was afraid to make a movement. Man lady was a pretty intimidating figure, especially when you’re sober. I shakily cleared my throat, waiting for the scary woman to do something.
She looked up warily and glared at me.
“Well?” She demanded in that gravelly voice of hers.
“Erm…” I started, wondering what the bloody hell just happened. This insane masculine lady just caused the shack to tremble and then decided to go sit down at her desk and nonchalantly go back to sorting her fucking files? That’s not normal. And from me, that’s saying something. Because I’m not a normal person. Yes, I admit it. I may be abnormal, but I am NOT a bad kid.
“Get out of my sight!” She exclaimed, slamming a stack of papers on her desk in front of her with a huge force.
I backed up a few steps and shrunk under her menacing stare. I wanted to book it, but I had no clue where to go. Where the hell am I supposed to go? I seriously must be in hell right now. No alcohol, evil man ladies, reform camp, and the feeling of utter fear and stupidity. Am I supposed to suddenly gain the knowledge of what I was supposed to do?
“Where do I go?” I asked nervously, my irritation mixing with nervousness. Okay, so I’m not as standoffish as I may seem to be. I honestly get intimidated and scared really easily. I wish I could get over that. Being piss drunk makes me braver than I really am.
The lady gave an irritated gravelly sigh and sounded more like a manly grunt.
“Do I have to bloody spell it out for you?”
I didn’t answer.
“You walk out of my office and the first thing you’ll see is the infirmary. Go in there and you’ll figure out what to do from there,” she said indifferently, her voice laced with bitterness. I don’t blame her. If I looked like she did, working in a shack for a reform camp, then I would be a bit of a bitch as well.
I slowly backed out of the office until I was surrounded by nothing but trees. But something was off. Way off.
The trees were no longer huge and intimidating, but they looked majestic and even magical. The branches towered over me, radiating with an elegance that took my breath away. The sun glittered through the rustling leaves and fell on my head, making my body feel comfortably warm and light. I immediately felt a sense of peace. Maybe Morgana Wood wouldn't be so bad.
Then, just ahead of me was a ginormous tree. And I mean gargantuan, mutated, ancient looking monstrously awesome tree…with huge thick branches that seemed to consume and belittle all of the other trees. The trunk was coated with thick moss and there was a huge hole, smack in the middle of the trunk, surrounded by crawling ivy. There was a small sign with big letters that was right over the huge portal.
This was the infirmary? Seriously? When I pictured infirmary, I pictured a sterile building with uptight nurses with huge syringes.
I took a deep breath and walked into the portal. After walking in darkness for a few moments, I came into a room assaulted with so many colors that I felt blinded. There were flasks of multi colored potions everywhere, steaming, bubbling, hissing….The walls were wooden with moss hanging off of various areas (We were in a tree…), and there were also various scales, other strange instruments, and a huge hospital bed draped with blood red covers.
But the strangest thing of all was the small woman standing in the middle of the room. She was draped in long green robes, and a scarf was tied around her head like a snake. Her eyes were bulging and grey, and her skin as wrinkled as a raisin. She wore huge hoop earrings that seemed to drag all the way down to her shoulders. She gave a huge smile and spoke to me, her voice extremely high and way too enthusiastic. “And you must be Emerina, am I right?”
“E-Emery,” I responded, slightly frightened of this woman with the strange clothes and huge bug eyes.
“I’m Healer Sasha,” she walked forward swiftly and extended a wrinkled hand. I hesitantly took it.
“As you probably know, I’m the healer of Camp Morgana and every camper must come through my office and get an annual checkup before you officially enter the camp. So, let’s get started shall we so we don’t waste any more of your time. I’m going to have to ask you to take off your clothes and change into one of these.” She spoke way to fast, way to enthusiastically. She was so fucking annoying. I wanted to take the scarf around her head and shove it into her bloody mouth.
With a flick of her wand, she summoned a pale white gown towards me. I grabbed it with both hands and immediately felt a sense of dread consume the pit of my stomach. I hated physical checkups. I hated taking off my clothes and being examined, poked, and prodded. It didn’t fly with me. Nope, hell to the fuck no.
Healer Sasha just stared at me with her huge bug eyes and creepy smile. Erm…creeper much? Couldn’t she at least turn around while I change or something?
I reluctantly slid my trousers off of my long slim legs and pulled my black sweater over my head, ruffling up my short dark hair. I felt extremely exposed in nothing but my bra and knickers. I felt my whole body flush and I felt the eyes of Healer Sasha on me. This was embarrassing. At least the healer wasn’t a male.
I slipped the gown on hurriedly over my head and then finally looked up at Healer Sasha, who had a clipboard in front of her with a quill.
“Let’s get your weight first. So can I have you stand here…” She ushered me toward an ancient looking contraption with a strange black platform that I supposed was to be some sort of scale. Healer Sasha tapped it a few times with her wand. In response, it gave a strange whizzing noise. Once she was satisfied, she gave me the okay to step on the scale.
I felt awkward as the healer tapped the contraption a few more times before announcing, “Fifty two kilograms.”
Fifty two kilograms….okay, not a bad weight I guess.
Until you get my height.
“One hundred and seventy eight centimeters.”
I am tall. Really tall. And I am extremely skinny for my height. I always wished I was either shorter or heavier. I felt like an elastic band, stretched and uneven. I don’t eat much at all, but I drank a lot. Isn’t alcohol supposed to make you gain weight? Well, it doesn’t do shit for me. But hey, it made me feel good, well, until after it wears off.
Also, being so tall made me feel unattractive. I felt awkward and lanky. I towered over all of the other girls at school, who were all cute and short and pretty.
Healer Sasha checked my temperature, my blood pressure, my breathing, my hearing, my eye sight, and a whole bunch of other useless things that got me more and more irritated by the second. You can only stand that annoying voice and googly eyes for so long before you want to gouge your eyes out with a scalpel.
“Your liver toxicity levels are a bit higher than normal,” she stated in an annoying “concerned” voice.
“I understand that you’re here because of excessive drinking?” She asked me.
I gritted my teeth as I barely nodded. Healer Sasha made a quick note on her clipboard. The scratching of her quill made me twitch.
“While you are here, I want you to come to the infirmary every night right after dinner so that you can take this.” She used her wand to summon a small green shiny vial. I could smell the contents from the vial. It smelt like horse piss.
“It’s a special anti-toxicity potion that I brewed last week. I’ve had to make large amounts of it because there are many other campers here at Morgana Wood that are here for excessive alcohol and drug use. It is very important to never skip dosages. It will clear up any foreign toxins in your liver by the end of your term here,” she said very quickly.
My brain was whirling. So…I had to come here to the infirmary after dinner to be force fed a potion because I had higher than normal liver toxicity? I felt like some sort of dying patient.
“Well, Emerina….” Emery. “You are free to go.” She gave me a huge smile. She swished her wand toward the back of the tree and immediately, a door appeared and it swung open.
I quickly changed into my normal clothes before hurriedly heading toward the door. I was outside once again.
And I think I have officially entered the camp.
I was surrounded by the beautiful majestic trees that radiated with power. But beyond the sounds of the leaves rustling, were the chatter of various teens. A LOT of teens. They all seemed to be grouped in the mass huddle, where they were then separated into their own cliques. As I gazed at the various people, my stomach seemed to plummet. I didn’t belong here.
A lot of these kids looked absolutely frightening. Some had many facial piercings and spiky bracelets, some had red rimmed eyes, some were so skinny that you could see every bone sticking out at every angle of their body, some just sat there, looking extremely depressed , and then…some looked normal, attractive even.
I walked toward the crowd hesitantly. I’ve never felt so alone. This is when the alcohol is necessary. Drunk Emery is a lot more fun than sober Emery. Drunk Emery gets along with people, sober Emery is depressing and moody. Drunk Emery is fun and outgoing, sober Emery is quiet and sullen. Drunk Emery is brave and outspoken, sober Emery is shy and afraid.
Who would you rather be friends with? Yeah. I thought so.
Then, a group of people caught my eye. A group of boys. They were giving off a fresh vibe of confidence, of mischief….I knew it right away.
I had to do a double take. Why the bloody hell would the marauders be at Morgana Wood? Actually, I take that back. They do belong here. I can’t count the amount of times that they have wreaked havoc at Hogwarts, from destruction of property, to misconduct, to illegal substances, to everything else you could possibly to land a spot at a reform camp.
It’s just that they were so loved, so popular, so smart, so courageous, so outspoken…. It was the only thing that made the whole thing a bit off. It was probably Dumbledore or McGonagall who enlisted them here.
I stared at them. There was James Potter, his messy dark hair and his glasses perfectly straight on his nose. He was laughing with Remus Lupin, the more conservative of the Marauders. His slightly curled brown hair reflected in the sunlight and even though he always looked a bit shabby, he still radiated with the classic Marauder atmosphere. Peter Pettigrew was the only one who looked like he didn’t belong, but the very fact that the Marauders accept him is enough for everyone else. He looked star struck as per usual, his watery beady eyes shining as he gazed at James.
Then there was Sirius Black. Damn attractive that one was.
I always fancied Sirius Black to be honest. Yes, he was an insufferable prat, but something about him always made me swoon. Everything from his twinkling grey eyes to his dark shaggy hair, to his devious crooked smile…. The way he showed confidence, courage, the spirit of a true Gryffindor… he had everything that I didn’t. He had the things that I could only have when I was piss drunk.
The Marauders never ever acknowledged my existence. The only time they ever paid attention to me was during my presence at a Gryffindor Quidditch match when I was completely intoxicated. I bumbled out into the pitch in the middle of the game and started to swear and hex random players from both teams. I happened to hit James with the bat bogey hex and cost Gryffindor the game. Then I passed out.
Once I woke up I didn’t hear the end of it. I got detention for every single night for the rest of the year under probation. Every single member of the house hated me, especially the marauders. I remember when Sirius screamed at me in the middle of the corridor. He addressed me as “that bitch.” I don’t think he knows my name to be honest.
But here they are. In Camp Morgana. I wonder what they did to officially drive the staff at Hogwarts over the edge.
Before I could continue my reflecting, a huge voice echoed through the whole forest.
“ATTENTION ALL CAMPERS!!!”
I cringed as my ears pounded. The talking started to cease as heads turned for the sound of the voice.
A small young woman with blonde hair and a Red T-shirt that read Morgana Wood, Head Counselor 1977 stood in front of the crowd with a whole line of other people all in identical shirts, only instead of saying Head Counselor, theirs read Student Counselor. Their shirts were also purple rather than red.
“Will everyone please situate themselves into a line?” The blonde head counselor asked, a wand pointed at her throat so that her voice was enhanced. I kept wincing as she spoke. Too much damn noise.
The campers grumbled as they attempted to make a line. I was blundering aimlessly, before I found myself squeezed between a girl with purple hair and eyebrow piercings and an extremely tall guy with a shaved head, bloodshot eyes, and a leather jacket. Merlin, please take my life.
“Welcome to Morgana Wood. My name is Melanie Briggs, but you may call me Melanie. I am the head counselor here at this camp and I have a few things to say before we get you all situated into your groups.” The small lady had a strong presence for such a short demure looking thing. Her voice was strong and clear and it even captured my full attention.
“First things first, we have to collect your wands. We do not allow anyone but the staff, the head counselor, and the student counselors to use magic in Camp Morgana. This is for safety, as well as mental purposes which will be explored throughout your stay here. You will get your wand back at the end of your term.”
As she said this, a whole storm of protests went up into the sky. I myself, felt the color drain from my face. No wands? For two months? No magic? Nothing? This shouldn’t be legal! What the fucking hell are these sadists trying to do? This is violation of private property! Tyrannical!
A few of the student counselors were passing each student in the line with a huge basket. Each camper reluctantly put their wand into the basket, but not before shooting a dirty glare or saying something obscene. My fingers felt like cement as I let my wand drop into the basket. I felt like a part of my soul had just been ripped apart. I felt naked, worthless, helpless….
“Now that we’ve gotten that taken care of, we’ll cover a few things. All of these great young people behind me are the student counselors. All of them are around your age and they willingly volunteered to be a part of this program because they want to help you. Each group will be assigned two team leaders, one male and one female. The females of each group will sleep in a separate tent with their team leader, while the males sleep in a separate group with the male team leader. However, both the male and female tents of each group will be within a few meters proximity of each other, for at this camp, we enforce group correspondence, dependency, and team work. We want you all to make friends with the members of your groups, male or female, and to develop close relationships with your team leaders.”
Melanie’s words sunk into my head. I didn’t do well with people. I couldn’t sleep in the same tent with a whole group of people, I couldn’t talk with people unless drunk, and I most certainly will not develop a good relationship with a team leader who is MY age.
I glarced at the group of young healthy looking attractive goody-two shoes teens clad in their purple camp shirts. Then…I noticed that one of the team leaders was none other than Lily Evans.
She had a small smile on her face as she faced the big crowd. Her thick dark red hair looked longer now. It used to fall to her shoulders, but now it travelled all the way to her waist. Her big green almond shaped eyes were glittering and I felt a sudden surge of jealousy as I took in her beauty, her kindness, her purity, her strong willingness…
Lily Evans was one of those girls that was nice to everyone. Except James Potter. She hated him a lot. She and I never really talked. Whenever we did, she seemed nice enough. She was always smiling, always laughing, always excelling…she was the perfect girl. No wonder why someone with as much prestige as James Potter would fancy her.
Maybe if I didn’t spend so much time in a drunken stupor, then I could’ve been friends with her. I don’t know.
“To ensure the protection of our staff and counselors, there are anti theft and violence charms throughout this whole camp. Each camper is given a blue camp shirt with their belongings at their tents. These shirts are self hygienic. They are to be worn during all organized camp activities, including meals and campfire. You may wear your own choice of clothing during free time.”
This was sounding like a bloody military camp. I was already itching with these restrictions, these limits…I felt judged, incapable of normal function. I hated everything already.
Melanie kept harping for a few more long agonizing moments about camp rules. All campers must be in their tents at night by eleven o’ clock sharp. The morning siren sounds at eight every morning and breakfast started at nine. Free period started after dinner, which took place at six, and lasted until ten, which is when campfire would take place before bed time.
Then, finally, all of the kids were organized into three lines. Two student counselors and Melanie each took care of each line, all of them holding a clipboard in their hand. The camper was to say their name and they would be assigned a group. I felt dread weigh heavily in my stomach at this prospect. I just had a bad feeling about this. I don’t know what it was.
I didn’t look at anyone. I kept my head down, cursing my life to oblivion. I wanted my firewhiskey. I wanted to go home and just not think or feel anything. I didn’t want to be here at all.
Finally, I came up to Melanie, who looked at me with sharp piercing blue eyes.
“Emerina Alixson.” I responded grudgingly. I winced as I allowed my real name to slip from my mouth.
After a few seconds of scanning her list, she finally announced without looking at me in the face.
“You are in group Circe and your team leaders are Jonathan Stewart and Lily Evans.”
A/N: So, here's the first chapter. What do you guys think? Does it have potential? What do you think of Emery so far? What about the concept of Morgana Wood? Please Read and Review! It means so much to me