A blonde. A very typical blonde indeed. Light hair and lavender eyes.
Lavender
     She hated it. Hated the odd color almost as much as she hated her round face and the fair skin that couldn’t take the slightest sunlight. She wished herself dark-haired, with deep brown mysterious eyes and chocolate skin. She had heard that colored people almoust always had perfect skin.
     With a sigh she put on her clothes, tried to figure what combination would make a good impression on her first day in class.
     Her first day in a new country, as an English school girl.
     Halfway down the stairs she remembered that in England, you wear school uniform. On her way back up she cursed the English school system. Could it be something else than hell – a place where she had to wear a uniform?

     Next she had to run around in a school that was enormous compared to her old one, trying to find a classroom that seemed to be on different places every time she asked someone. The tears was near now. The hated tears that always destroyed her life. She tried to keep them back with anger, but her vision was blurred. She hasted to a door she hoped would lead to a closet of some kind –
And stumbled out in a classroom.

“Hi, I… I’m looking for classroom… 12 C. I’m new here…”

“Lavender Stark?” Her name was pronounced in a very odd way by the young teacher, but it was doubtless her name. “My name is ms Daniels you have found the right classroom” she looked at her watch “exactly 15 minutes too late. Please dry your eyes and come here.”

     Lavender hastily tried to blink the feared tears of without destroying the makeup, before she stepped up in front of the class. She lost her breath for a moment. There were only girls in the class! Some of them were whispering, others were giggling or looking out the windows – obviously out of boredom.

“Hello, my name is Lavender Stark. I come from Sweden and is sixteen years old. In the Swedish school system I was in ninth grade – in Freya school…”

One of the bored girls, with dark red hair, suddenly turned her head and looked up.

“What is a Freya-school?”

Lavender blushed heavily.

“It’s a normal school, it’s just named Frejaskolan – and ‘skola’ is Swedish for school.”

The redhead mumbled something, but had already lost interest.


     When the school day was over, Lavender hadn’t cried since the humiliating morning. She felt much worse. She felt empty and outside – and completely worthless. Some of the girls had tried to make contact, but she still felt embarrassed and kept her distance.
     She knew some names by listening to the teacher, the girl with the red hair was Myrah, a nuthead.
     Outside the school building, Lavender tried to fit into a group of girls that mainly was from the same class as she, when she saw Myrah walk up to another red haired girl. The other one was a little taller, a little more slender, with short straight cut hair in a light carrot –looking color.
     Vaguely Lavender heard someone say that it was Myrahs sister, some kind of half-criminal. Lavender still looked at the girl.

“What’s her name?”

“Hannah – but she’s a psycho, stay away from her.”