User:ValkyriePyra/Sandbox

Mary slowly opened her front door, mail in hand.

The inside of her house was business as usual. Mom was talking on the phone with one of her lady friends while Dad was outside weeding the garden. Save for the rattle of the radiator- which Mom insisted they keep on despite being August in Utah- the house felt almost abandoned. Mary decided to flip through the mail, purely out of curiosity. Not much of value was in the stack, truthfully; some bills for her parents, Dad's weekly issue of Aviators Official, a letter letting the family know dentist appointments were coming up, and a flyer from her high school advertising the Study Abroad.

Half-interested, Mary looked over the school flyer. It kept talking about a new option that had opened up for students in Greenland, as well as going on about how it would "help students experience new horizons" and all that malarky. Underground house seemed cool... but Mary put the flyer down. She didn't think it was for her.

"You know, you could use that program, honey."

Mary turned around, shocked and surprised at her mom standing right behind her. She had a habit of doing that. In an act of disinterest and defiance, Mary shoved the flyer into her school uniform pocket, silent as possible.

"Mary, you need to get out there and do something with yourself! All you do is go to school and stay cramped up in your room. You don't even socialize online like other kids do, you just waste away in your bed. That's a problem, young lady."

"...Sorry, Mom."

It was hard to be motivated by anything her parents talked with her about when they had an expressed disinterest in her well-being. Mary had been raised in an absurdly pristine and proper environment; she was only allowed to eat vegetarian food, she got signed up for all the AP classes even when it took a toll on her free time and social life, and she had to constantly be dressed up in her uniform- Dad's military past was probably tied to that. Never did they once do anything out of kindness; truth be told, Mary suspected that she was an accident child, though she had no way to confirm this.

"What ever happened to those two kids you used to hang out with? Back then, you were a lot more cheery...

Her mom left the room with a sigh as she turned her back on Mary. Knowing she was free of any repercussions, Mary walked up the stairs to her room. It was a fairly sparse place, to be certain; the only part of the room that was dirty at all was her messy, unmade bed, her pajamas drooping over the side. After all, she never really used any part of the room aside from it.

Her mom's reference had sparked a little something in her, though, and she turned to her dusty desk to locate the junk drawer. Inside were plenty of bits of random crap from her past; old awards for childhood library programs, an unspent coupon for one free small pizza, a screwdriver she had found sticking out of her desk the start of her high school career. What she was focused most on, however, was a small picture frame, showing her alongside two other kids.

Jenna and Avery. The two of them had been amazing friends all throughout middle school and beyond, and she'd thought they'd always be an inseparable trio. The Crusaders of the Court. But then something... changed. Jenna and Avery started going out, and the longer and deeper their relationship grew, the more she started to feel like the third wheel. Eventually, she just stopped hanging out with them altogether.

Maybe it was that point that she started spending all her time in bed. Her grades were great, so why bother going out and studying more? Her parents didn't care about her, so why spend time with them? She felt uncomfortable around her friends, so why hang out anymore? Everything just felt... gray to her.

She took the flyer out of her pocket. Deep down, she knew her mom was right. Mary needed to get some color back in her life. Studying abroad might very well give her the motivation to keep going on. ...She couldn't believe her mom was right.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Mary?"

Mary held the flyer against the chest of her stuffy, restrictive uniform. "I need to talk to you about something."