"Awoooo!"
The moonlit night embraced the forest, casting an ethereal glow on the surroundings. Catherine Caster was running through the dense woods with wild abandon, so fast that she would seem like a blur. She had finally learned her lesson never to strike a deal with the mischievous Moon Gang and now she was determined to outwit their wicked ways, nothing could deter her determination.
As Catherine darted between the trees, her heart raced in synchronization with her swift footsteps. She jumped, reached for a tree branch, and swung on it, sending herself soaring high into the sky. For a second there, Catherine defied gravity as she suspended in mid-air, remaining in the air. She gazed down at the sprawling forest below, her elation only matched by the exhilarating breeze caressing her face. In that suspended tranquility, she felt free and alive, untethered from the mundane world while she enjoyed the breeze. . . . .
"April, can you help me wear my tie?!"
Kyle could already hear the stomping of his supposedly angry sister. Just as Kyle thought, April entered his room so fast, he could even see her anger flames following her trail as she entered. April leaped from Kyle's front room door and landed right behind him, her curly white and black hair blowing into her face. Her hair was her pride; ever since she was little, she had always been told that her hair resembled that of Cruella's. She got the white part of her hair from her mother and the black part from her father. Kyle knew April like the back of his palm; she had anger issues, which she was learning to control. And he knew she would be angry about this particular question because of the number of times she had been forced by their father to teach Kyle how to tie a tie.
April glared at Kyle through the round-shaped mirror in front of them and said, "I didn't come up here because of your idiotic stupidity; I've been working on my anger issues. Anyway, did Mike call or text you?"
"No, why?" Kyle asked.
April stood there thinking for some time, then finally spoke: "Well, I asked him to come to the awarding ceremony two weeks ago, but he just texted me now, saying, 'Sorry, I can't be there' after all that time."
"Dang it!" Mike's words echoed through the hallway of a hospital, and suddenly all eyes turned to him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. Carry on," he said.
Mike hadn't even thought about checking his system messages for the past two weeks since he was hospitalized. Unfortunately, his injury was more critical than he thought, so looking at a screen that shows him a message he was supposed to answer two weeks ago doesn't help, especially if it was from an extremely hot-tempered friend.
Mike closed his eyes and imagined how angry April might be; he was sure she was already making trails of anger flames. It was too late to attend the ceremony now; he wouldn't make it in time, so he decided to send April a message, but he didn't really do well with his words.