Warrior Angel ch. 1

The air in the elementary school auditorium was a little stuffy. Not that I minded that, but still.
The second graders were holding a school play, to celebrate spring's arrival. It had "arrived" about a month ago, but the kids needed time to get the play exactly right. At least, that's what my little sister, Katie, told me.
Right now, a little girl with light orange/red hair and a flower costume was talking to the audience about her joy for spring weather and how the flowers all grow and such. When she had finished, a dull applaud came from the audience of families.
About then, a person that was sitting next to me gave me a hard jab in the side with her elbow. I turned to see it was a woman with artificially platinum blode hair in a hair style that looked almost like a bee hive and way too much eye make-up. She stank of too much cheap perfume and hair spray.
"My daughter's up next!" wannabe Barbie whispered excitedlly.
"Awesome," I mumbled.
On stage, a little girl with light brown hair came in with a floral princess dress, wand, and tiara.
She talked to the girl in the flower costume for a minute, then she sang about something "springy", like the whole damn play.
The barbie girl whispered to me, "Isn't she amazing?" Then she completely ignored me to watch her little darling.
The girl was actually a good singer. I was inmpressed, but, not impressed enough to listen to the lyrics.
When the song ended, the audience seemed to wake up and actually care about the play. I'm not kidding, they were seriously cheering.
The other girl near hear in the flower costume blushed in jealousy at not getting so much apraise.
The curtains closed, apparently the play had ended, and people in the crowd of families weaved through the folding chairs. 1

There was a little celebration banquette in the cafetieria. The girl who sang well at the end was crowded by a few teachers telling her how amazing her singing was.
My mom was getting some cookies with Katie, while I looked at the crowd of people around the girl. It was a little weird how they congraduated her like she just saved the world. The girl seemed to handle lime light well, most kids that age would get overwehlmed.
Katie walked back to me, casually chewing on a cookie.
"Did you like the play?" she asked in a stale voice.
"Not bad for second graders," I complemented.
About then, the girl that earlier was with the crowd of teachers walked over to us.
"What are you doing here, Katie? You weren't in the play," she complained.
"I'm here wether I like it or not, Mary. The music teacher told me I need to see it so when the class talks about it, I won't get lost. Oh, by the way, it stunk."
"Oh, right, cause a weirdo like you needs a lesson in acting and how to tell the difference between a good or bad story," Mary boasted.
"I not into acting, and I'm not stupid."
"Or maybe you know you'd never be good at anything thing, besides freaking people out, anyway."
"Hey, you," I interrupted. "Shut up."
She looked at me in disgust for a minute.
"Losers," she mumbled under her breath as she left.
"How does she know you, anyway?" Katie wouldn't talk to a brat like that, right?
"Her desk is next to mine."
Soon, we saw mom come over to us with a few brownies in her hand. She offered me one and I accepted.
"You guys want to go home now, cause this is just kind of boring," mom asked.
"Sure," I said, taking a bite of the brownie. Katie seemed to be okay with it, so we left for the parking lot. 2

Ten minutes later, we had arived at our two-story house. It was five p.m., so sunlight and nightfall were sharing the sky. It was also much cooler outside, which was a relief after the 78 degree weather earlier today. We were about to walk into our house, until Katie stopped us.
"Is that a moving truck?" she mentioned quizzically. I looked in the direction she was focousing on. All the way at the end of the street, there was a moving truck.
Mom seemed to be intresed as well, and soon enough, Katie started walking down the street to get a better look. We had no choice but to follow her, she beng only 7.
About ten feet away from her destonation, Katie immedietally slowed down to a cautious tread. Near the truck was a woman with medium brown hair and big, circular sunglasses. She was anxiously looking at the house, probably hoping the movers wouldn't drop anything fragile.
Our mom stepped in front of us and casually greeted the woman.
"Hello." The woman was startled by mom's voice.
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't see you come over. Are you from this street?"
"Yes, we're a few houses over."
"Oh, nice to meet you." She looked at me and Katie. "Who are they?"
"These are my daughters, Katie and Roxan." I waved and smiled kindly.
"Nice to meet you," she greeted shyly. She studied Katie for a moment. "You know, I have a daughter who looks about your age." She focoused at Katie.
"Really?" Katie seemed to brighten up at the thought of a new friend.
"Would you like to meet her?"
"Meet who?" A little girl with perfectly curly blonde hair and brilliant baby blue eyes worked around some movers and walked outside to her, my guess, mother. She was holding a little notebook, perhaps a diary.
"Her," the woman pointed to Katie with a shaky finger. Katie's smile faded slowly when she had a good look at the girl. The girl walked over to Katie and held out a hand.
"I'm Cassadee, nice to meet you." Katie waringly shook her hand. Cassadee then walked over to me. She inspected me for a moment before talking.
"And you are...?"
"Roxan, but you can call me Roxi."
"Hold old are you?"
"13."
"I see." She looked at a watch that was on her wrist. Nothing special, just a pink Barbie watch.
"I should get going. Besides, I haven't started my homework yet." Cassadee left for her new home hurridly, holding the little pink diary tightly. The woman said goodbye, then followed.
"They seem nice," mom suggested. "Okay, let's go make dinner." 3

On the walk back, Katie ocasionally looked back at the house the new neighbors had moved into. Her eyebrows were connected into a worried expression.
"You okay?" I asked after a while.
Katie looked at me solomly, as if she was interupted from a deep thought.
"They're weird..." 4

And Katie didn't say a word for the rest of the night.