This Is Not Me

There was panic. Flat out panic, in the girls dormitories.

Someone had the bright idea of leaving the windows open during class time, resulting in the wind from the passing storm messing up the contents of the room. Granted, it wasn't a life or death situation. Parchment went flying, ink was spilt, no big deal, right? Wrong.

“Where is my essay?!” Came the frantic cry of a fellow second year. Seren shrugged. She kept all of her important belongings in her bag, on her person. “This is not me,” she said rejecting the blame and shutting the windows.