4 February 2013
"Yanai mon ami..." The strained voice comes from Jacque. Opening my eyes and looking up, I smile weakly. When I glance around, not only Jacque, but three other people fill my sight. They aren't the nurses from earlier, or my parents. No. These are my friends, each of them with a special power, special ability, that makes them different from the rest of the world.
My eyes first stop, looking at Chüvsta, weeping in a chair . He is from Kimry, Russia, and his accent defiantly shows his origins well. His hair is darker than the usual washed out brown, wet. I soon figure out that it had been raining outside and that this is the cause of the damp mat of hair.
Next I turn my gaze to Sydney. She's a cheerleader from America, ignorant and snooty. I mean, at least that's what she acts like, but I don't think she wants to be stuck up. Her blonde hair is tied up in a hot pink bow, wet strands straying from the ponytail. Her make-up was smeared which meant that she had been crying at one point too, but had wiped away the tears around her blue, streaking mascara to the far side of her cheekbones.
Finally I look back at Jacque. His Dirty, damp, and blonde hair sticking every-which-way. He's the French of our "group". Tall and lean. He causes almost all of the laughter between us although he doesn't speak English very well.
"What if she doesn't make it?" Sydney speaks, worrying Chüvsta even more. Soon my eyes close as I plunge once more into unconsciousness.
The Dream Team • Opuss № I