As this day nears to its death, a new day will be born, craddling in its arms the end of my long, perilious and treacherous journey from one fortress of scholars to another.
Literally speaking, as tommorrow dies, so does my holidays.
You guys out there must be thinking, wtf is with this idiot and his freaking holiday and school? Has he really turned to a wooden clock that spits out a noisy, ugly-looking wooden-feathered creature with wings every hour?
Excitement, friends.
I'm pleased to announce that I have been accepted to ISB! =.= voice heard in the corner - (i thought he was accepted ever since he started blurting about his new school)
Nope, lol, just met Mr. Toomer who was a pretty nice man, and called me back the same day of my "interview" with the good news.
LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW LIKE WOW
kay time for some kickass shittedupped language.
It draws nearer, the stone grey walls that towered over the horizon. Hundreds of torches illuminated the wall sections, and thousands of armed cannons stood at their readies, speckling the wall in a ominous fashion.
One lone warrior, I stumble across the great plains towards the fort. My journey has been long and perilious, meeting challenges, and other warriors along the way. I fought through countless challenges to safeguard my sanity and survived, needless to say, however weak from the days of lonesomeness.
Now i stand here, only two days of a walk from here to the dark structure in the distance, a straight journey through the plains and several droughted streams that cut through the terrain.
I glanced around. Several unfamiliar specks of other travellers near the structure too. They were moving ever so slowly, as if they were not moving at all. Was this how we all looked to that great fort?
Several flares shot up from the fort, as if in slow motion. I just realized how far we still were from the fort, however near it may have seemed. One came in our direction and illuminated the lands on which we tread.
Even in the distance, I could make out one distinct movement that could either mean death, or survival. The gates, the titanic, black steel gates began to open ever so slowly.
As soon as a crack had appeared, out swarmed legions of warriors who immediately formed a massive phalanx. Were they to kill us, or to help us in?
We will soon find out.
The hard way.
..... to be continued.
End of current Journal
The Padfutonian
Tyler Schoarnnoth Padfoot
The 18th of February, 1992 A.D.
'Once upon a wintery midnight...'
Fort ISB, Elite Guard of the International Baccalureate