[i]I don't want to be here....[/i]

That was all Erza kept repeating through her head as she glanced down solemnly with a small glower at the open sketchbook in her lap, a nicely sharpened 2H lead pencil loosely grasped between her two fingers and gliding gracefully across the coarse-grained paper with every stroke of the young girl's hand, the artist at work on another masterpiece of hers. Today, this blistering and miserably humid day in the ides of August, marked the beginning of her second year at the school, and as she had done before on the eve of her first year at this secluded and mysterious academy for the likes of her kind...whatever that was, soon to maybe be a ritual for her maybe, she spoke to no one, not even the new arrivals at the majestic, iron-barred gates of the ancient castle-like building that stood looming over her, casting her entire figure in absolute shadows, same as the very tree she rested under, her back supported by the thick trunk of wood pushing against her, her knees curled to her breasts...and as customary, her sketchbook already plopped in her lap and a pencil already in hand.

As much as she was concerned, Erza didn't exist to no one at this moment. It was just her...here in a world of her own machinations, where she was safe...safe from hate...safe from prejudice....safe....from herself...... [i]I hate this place....[/i]

In her ears were her earbuds to her MP3 player, already slowly belting out Slipknot's [i]Vermilion Part 2[/i] as she continued drawing...mostly just small character sketches here and there, nothing too showy or glamorous, but even so...Erza was a little proud of her creations.