Ophelia iz heres! [OPEN]

The boring sister of mine was reading Manga in her cabin, so I decided to go to the arena. With Lily in my right hand, I stomped close to a dummy. My white sweat-pants stopped at my ankles, so dirt got into my black converse. The Zebra-printed, oversized shirt on me was a little to low, so I used a black rubber band to tie it in the back. A good bit of my belly-button now showed, and in the back, you could see the bottom of my name. My ugly-arse name, which my dad loved. Once, I even took a black sharpie and scratched out 'Ophelia' and then put 'Haley'. At the time, getting a tattoo (underaged, of course) with my real named seemed like a good idea. Then, I actually started despising the name Ophelia. Of course.

Anyways, the ragged dummy faced me with it's face-less head. I stared at it like you would in show down between Batman and The Joker. My eyebrow raised and I scowled at the thing. Remembering all the times I found my best friend gossiping about me, the times my boyfriend was caught, by me, making out with my sister, the times I hated. I gripped Lily like there was no tomorrow. My feet were leaning away from the thing as I was ready to attack.

I twirled like a princess in those poofy-arse ball gowns. Before I stopped twirling, once I faced the ex-boyfriend-sister-being-stupid-ex-best-friend dummy, I pounced at it. The sword cut the dummies head off, which made me crack a grin. Standing there with my sword, now on my shoulder, and a cocky grin made me (out of all people) look like a murderer. A murderer of the ex-boyfriend-sister-being-stupid-ex-best-friend dummy. It felt good! Chopping off a dummy's head was like, a therapeutic exercise!

After being the murderer of a lifeless object, I felt the sudden urge to chop off the head of someone. Well, fight someone. If I truly hated them, I'd chop off their head. Lily was heavy against my body, so I dropped her and my hand to my sides. "That was brilliant!" I said loudly to myself, hoping someone would come over and ask me what was fun. Then we'd fight. I'd win. We'd get some coffee. We go back to camp. We go to sleep. Not together, unless, maybe, it was a guy...

No, I'm not a slut. I wouldn't do that! And my sister would chop my head off! I sighed, for two reasons. One, it felt like a sighing moment. And two, maybe someone would come over and we'd converse then duel. If not, I'd fight another ex-boyfriend-sister-being-stupid-ex-best-friend dummy.