Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

So yesterday I cut half my classes, snuck into the aquarium, got shot in the head, turned into a giant octopus and ripped a dragon in half.

Today I woke up in a nurse's office with a splitting headache.

It wasn't the nurse's office back at my old school, Eastside High. But all nurse's offices have a sort of same-ness to them. This one smelled more of mint than antiseptic, but everything still seemed artificially clean, with cots separated by gauzy curtains. Okay, I wasn't sure about that plural, because after all I'd just woken up, but it seemed like a safe guess. I freed my arms from the light cover over me and pushed myself up.

I tried to push myself up. The moment my head left the pillow, the room spun and my gut clenched. I must have made some kind of noise, because a moment later a woman in a weird white outfit pushed through the curtains at the end of the bed and moved quickly to the side of the bed, one hand gently pushing me back until my head hit the pillow once more.

"Don't lift your head; the pillow has some simple charms to ward off pain and discomfort. Just lie still."

I squinted, trying to sort out why the woman's dress seemed so weird. While I did that, she ran a hand over me while muttering something under her breath. Not, like, touching me, but just hovering her hand around four inches above me while moving it from my forehead down to my knees.

"Where am I?" I slurred, my mouth and throat both too parched to properly pronounce anything. "Can I get some water?"

The woman shook her head, I got the sense that she did so more because of confusion and annoyance than to deny me a drink. She did answer my questions though.

"You're in the infirmary of the Young Ladies' Wing of the Phileo City Heroic Academy," I now had no more idea where I was than before, but I knew the nurse in this nurse's office could drop capital letters on random words and make them sound like capitals. Somehow she did it without raising her voice much above a whisper. "You were brought back here after the attack on the aquarium yesterday." She shook her head again, this time as if upset by what she had to say, but trying to hide it from someone in a sickbed. "More than a few candidates died. Worse, our registrar, who intended to enroll everyone properly after the field trip, is still... she's still unconscious." She pursed her mouth, disliking the taste of what she had to say next, "I'm afraid we don't even know your name. Cheryl was carrying most of the registration documentation with her, and when the sea drake doused her in liquid flame, most of the records went up like kindling."

I rolled my head back and forth on the pillow, lifting it just a tiny bit at the end of one rotation. So long as my head touched linen, I felt fine, but the moment I lifted it even the slightest bit, my head pounded and my stomach clenched again. Neat bit of tech there; I kinda wanted to know how it worked, but I figured I had more important things to deal with first. "You don't even know my name?"

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, no. Between not knowing your name and not having any paperwork, we couldn't contact your parents, or even do much for you medically beyond simple painkillers and sleep aids."

I cracked my neck without lifting my head. That helped a bit; while I wasn't in pain, every bit of me felt like I'd slept on a stone slab. "So, uh... why am I here if you don't know who I am?"

She blinked, taken aback by my simple question. "You're... you're a student. I mean, that much is obvious; what would anyone else your age be doing at the aquarium with all the," she waved her hands around, at a loss for how to describe something. "With all Cheryl's very public nonsense about open enrollment at the aquarium this year."

I frowned a little, despite trying to hide it. The pillow did seem to have a bit of a soporific quality; either that or something else had me hovering just on this side of sleep. "You didn't approve of the open enrollment?"

She shook her head again, smiling this time. "Oh, no. I think it's a wonderful idea, especially given how far enrollment has been down over the past few years. Quite a few of the alumni objected, citing the principle of the thing, but when Headmaster Miles gave them the option of 'open enrollment or fewer reinforcements', they all loosened their purse strings."

I hid my reaction to the word 'reinforcements'. Yeah, she'd said it was an Academy, but that was just a fancy word for a College Prep school, right? I tried to ignore the nagging inner voice reminding me about the Military Academies at Annapolis and West Point, a little difficult considering how many kids flew out to Basic within a month of graduating Eastside. "So, why nonsense?"

She actually smiled at that. "Oh, Cheryl had some idea about kids from Camden Yards coming out of the woodwork to sign up. I mean, a lot of them would love to, but how many of them would pass the admissions tests?"

I frowned at that. "Uh, so if you don't have any of the info, how do you know I passed the admissions tests?"

She returned my frown with interest, only I got the idea she wasn't aiming it at me, per se. "Well, I'm sure she would have done at least a little preliminary testing right there on the spot; with the open enrollment things wouldn't be quite so rigorous. But that's all beside the point, really." She smiled down at me, sadness crinkling her eyes the tiniest bit. "You survived ground zero of a Dragon attack that killed half a dozen instructors and at least two dozen students. While nobody likes to say it, that's what Heroes from the Academies do; they wade in where angels fear to tread, and some even walk back out afterwards."

I needed some time alone to think about that. While Eastside provided more than its fair share of cannon fodder to the military, that had never been my thing. I took the Reserve Officer Training Corps class, otherwise known as ROTC, during my freshman year because a bunch of friends did, but I don't think I'd so much as looked at my uniform in over a year. At the same time, this place just plain smelled nicer than Eastside; if I could get away with putting a few years in, then drop out or something before they sent me into the meat grinder, it might be fun to play at being a rich kid for a while. "Uh, can I get a little time to nap? I'm sleepy. It might be the pillow talking though."

She smiled again. "Yes, they do that. Rest cures many ills. With Cheryl out of action, I'll need to go over your replacement paperwork, but it will take me a bit to pull it all together. Do you feel well enough to answer a bunch of questions?"

My stomach growled loud enough to overwhelm any response I might have made. My face heated when I said "Yeah, I can do that. Can I get something to eat though?"

She nodded, "I'll send for something. I'll wake you when everything is ready."

The moment she was out of sight I tried lifting my head again. Still pounding, stomach still tied in a knot. I collapsed back onto the bed and passed back out.