Carmel Skin and Honey Hair
Welcome to Potter’s Army

Welcome to Potter's Army

We have been a Harry Potter Roleplaying site since 2007. If you're an old member we hope you come check out the discord link provided below. And if you're looking for a new roleplaying site, well, we're a little inactive. But every once and a while nostalgia sets in and a few of our alumni members will revisit the old stomping grounds and post together. Remember to stay safe out there. And please feel free to drop a line whenever!

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What’s Happening?
Since every few months or so a few of our old members get the inspiration to revisit their old stomping grounds we have decided to keep PA open as a place to revisit old threads and start new ones devoid of any serious overarching plot or setting. Take this time to start any of those really weird threads you never got to make with old friends and make them now! Just remember to come say hello in the chatbox below or in the discord. Links have been provided in the "Comings and Goings" forum as well as the welcome widget above.

Carmel Skin and Honey Hair

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Post by Mira Anderson Wed Sep 07, 2011 10:11 pm

Before you read I just wanted to give a little note. So this is a narrative I wrote last year for my 8th grade English class. I was one of the many students who choose to write from a personal event. This all happened, as close as I can recall, besides the changing of names - for my friends sake. Also if you notice some odd 'writing techniques' that feel out of place it's probably because we were working on those and I didn't want to get a bad grade. I hope you all enjoy. I know writing it helped me come to terms with the events of the past two years.

Carmel Skin and Honey Hair

The lunchroom is large and blindingly white. Today is the day. I have been waiting for this moment for over a year now. To be accepted within the people who I will always look at as my first (and best) friends. I can’t believe it. I’ve always took my placement among my peers without complaint. It is a simple thing that I have always longed for but has never been in my power to make happen. But now that it is here it feels like a final judgement of my character. I feel like I need to choose between my old best friends who are completely different people now, but I still love with all of my heart and my new best friends who are kind, loyal, and truly good people. Both groups mean the world to me and no matter what side I choose in this war I still loose.

I look at my old and new friends, sitting on opposite sides of the room. I hover for a moment, unsure of what way to step. And for some reason my mind can only focus on one memory. A time when I felt I didn’t have any influence over the world or the people in it.

* * *

The lunchroom is large and blindingly white. It feels as though a thousand pairs of eyes tear into my skin even though I know no one would bother to look at me. Just another seventh grader. I spot my friends at the table we had “claimed” as our own a few days ago. Even they are too busy examining the mystery meat to bother me a glance. I make my way over and sit next to my friend Delilah. She looks even more lost than I feel. I see her looking across the large expanse of the room. I follow her attentive gaze and find myself staring at Katrina, who has just stood up from her table of beautiful, giggling friends. Just seeing her face brings back a flood of memories of a less perfect creature who had time for forever nerdy, over freckled me.

Katrina starts walking towards our side of the lunchroom and for a second I wonder if she would actually ever talk to me again. She may have once been my best friend, but now she is just a shadow of the Katrina I once knew. A spirit in her body. From the way Delilah is looking over at her you can almost see the strangled look on her face. Delilah was even closer to Katrina than I was. Closer and closer she comes with her long blond hair flying out behind her as if in slow motion and her summer tanned legs making every other girl in the room feel as if they really need to loose a few pounds. She is as close as it comes to a goddess in this tiny town. And then she is next to me and Delilah, opening her mouth to speak the words that I am sure will be my salvation. Emotions toil in my tummy. I’m not sure what to think. For a brief second I think these awkward few days are behind us and that we are going to laugh and fall into each others arms. Instead of this fleeting fantasy her next words will haunt me for years to come.

“Delilah, you should come sit with us.” Katrina smiles at her, not even having the decency to bother the rest of us a glance. Her perfectly positioned white teeth are like fishes bait, drawing you in, waiting for you to come to her, as you always will. Because no matter how many imaginary conversations you have while lying in your bed at night you are still speechless when you come face to face. You have no power in this dominating presence. Delilah stands up and walks across the lunchroom with Katrina, no regret in her long stride. Why would she? She is now part of the secret club that we all pretend to hate but secretly wish we were in. Silence settles over the table as if the two girls have took our sounds and wills with them.

Slowly we all try to find words to fill the gap that Delilah’s empty spot has left. The vague, meaningless chatter starts again as if nothing ever happened. Already forgotten, like every bad thing in my life. I try to tell myself that I don’t care but I am really dying inside. I already feel worthless but to see it with my own two eyes from a former friend is a thousand times worse. And now I feel secure calling her a former friend. Because I never wanted to leave the club. It was a fun club and I had the best times in my life there. Memories that light my soul for years to come. Being kicked out hurts. And nothing compares to how it feels when I see Katrina laughing with her new and improved friends. But I’m happy that she’s happy. And sometimes that’s the worst of all.

* * *

Suddenly my feet are moving and I know I have made up my mind. Again I feel without power, though my heart is controlling me without any input from my brain. But when I sit down next to the others I feel out of place. Alien in this brave new world. But I hope with all my heart that they are just happy that I’m happy. Because this is far from the worst thing in the world.
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Mira Anderson

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