"Noah! Ten minutes!" His mother's voice rang across the clearing. He grimaced, carefully yet quickly scooping up the baby squirrel. Noah rushed inside, hugging the rodent close to his chest.
"Noah? Are you coming?" Noah grimaced again. "Erm- I'm putting my shoes on!" He lied, scurrying upstairs to his room.
He opened the door, rushing to his desk. His room was huge; it was the size of the average living room doubled. A large, tea green canopy bed filled up a portion, with a U-shaped desk on the other side. His closet was the size of a room, with an island in the middle.
He ran over to his desk, flinging open the cabinet. Inside was a woven basket, with small pillows and blankets. He put the squirrel in, carefully closed the door, and threw his shoes on.
He tripped as he ran down the stairs, throwing his hands out to catch his fall. He thudded painfully, curling up with his hands over his head.
At the loud crash, his mother ran in. She was a slightly-below-average sized woman, and she reminded Noah of a Disney mom. She scooped him up, which was easy for her, considering his size.
Noah: a 16 year old male, with curly milk chocolate colored hair. He had green eyes, a small, round face, and freckles. Noah was also around 4'11.
"Mom! I'm not a child!" He whined, squirming in her arms. She just smiled, looking down at him. She set him down at the table, setting a plate of bacon, eggs, grits, and toast before him.
Noah grabbed a piece of bacon, nibbling on it absently before looking at the time. "I'm late! Mom!" He cried, scrambling from the table. He ran outside, flinging the car door open and leaping inside with his mother as his heels.
Today was his first day at Willow Creek High School, and he was terrified. What if they thought he was still in grade school? Just keep below the radar, don't draw attention to yourself, he reminded himself sternly.
He hopped out the car the second they got there, saying nothing to his mother in fear she'd embarrass him.
Noah watched his mother's silver SUV drive away before shouldering his bag and walking in.
"Noah Promineaux? This class here first, here's your schedule and map…" one of the teachers said, ushering him into a packed classroom. Everyone towered over him, but, to his relief, that was a good thing. He was so short they looked right over him, and he took a seat in the far back.
The class ended a hour and a half later, and he put his notebook back in his bag. Noah stood awkwardly in the corner, waiting for everyone to exit, before he left himself. He glanced at his schedule, traced his finger along the map to find his next class, then started off towards it.
What he didn't expect, though, was for a large, cold hand to grab his curly hair and drag him into a closet.