Isis made her way into art. She knew how to vanish. She quietly slid into her seat wincing as the rusty chair pressed into her back. She knew most of their eyes were on her. Picking her apart for everything she was worth. Destroying her. Checking for anything unnatural about her.
Isis tried to ignore it. She let her face wander around the room shifting across every desk. Half of the room seemed empty. Only a few regulars were in the class. None of them working.
That was usual. Hampton wasn’t the best town in southern Florida. Violence and crime was basic. Most kids either got mugged or mugged people. Isis got mugged.
It was a hot, dry town. Where everyone called people by their first names. It was the kind of place they sang country songs about. Unfortunatly, it had long ago fallen to ruins and crime. Most of the townsfolk long ago lost their fortunes and were just trying to get by.