Neck-deep in homework, my energy had been drained entirely.
Instead of soaking into the blueness of the situation, I decided to dive into a
refreshing novel at the library. Completely swimming with knowledge, the
library is full to the brim with students. Casts of crabby characters, shivers
of sharkish souls, and a vast assortment of pretty birds float about the cool
room. After coasting in along with the waves of teenagers, I find a fishy
situation. Upon the coral reef shelves, there rests a lack of fictional troves.
Utterly shipwrecked, I collapse into a soft bed of cushions. Nearby, the top
predators of the school, the librarian and an administrator, whisper words of
suspicion. The keeper of such treasures, had sandy blonde hair and dark blue
eyes. The other was the king of our school. Nobody had ever even thought of
attacking this marauder of criminals, let alone manta-raid his treasures.
Feeling a tad out of my depth, I left the cavern, drowning in a whirlpool of
disappointment. I sailed through the hallway, weaving between the teeming
wildlife until I spotted a familiar face with a watery complexion. Floundering
and as winded as a fish-out-of-water, he relayed to me a spectacular sight. The
valley of sports had been torn apart by an aggressive lion fish. The
pirates had lit the soft bed of land with a volcanic eruption, creating a murky
blaze of light.
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