Post by JACQUELINE ELISE GIBSON on Mar 17, 2011 3:51:50 GMT
Class had been hell that day. Jac felt like her brain was going to explode after all of the knowledge that had attempted to wedge its way into her brain. And that was only what she'd managed to actually pay attention to. Seventh year was surely going to be the death of her, there was no way around it. She already had three essays to write and it was the first week in. One essay was already bad enough for her, but three? Three meant that she found it increasingly likely that she'd be falling behind before they'd even really gotten started…which meant she was one step closer to not making it out alive, which really was not an option for her. It just wasn't.[/color]
But did this mean that come her first free moment she was in the library, studying to her hearts’ content and trying to get her homework done? No, of course not. That was simply not how Jac was wired, unfortunately. Instead she was heading out to the quidditch pitch, in need for some time to unwind and get some practice in. There wasn’t any actual practice scheduled, in fact tryouts for the few opening spots had yet to even occur, but Jac couldn’t keep herself away. Some time in the air was exactly what she needed to get her head clear. Maybe after she’d been up there for at least an hour she’d find it easier to actually do some of her work.
Her broom was propped on her shoulder as she walked into the pitch, eyes traveling across the field and bleachers, noting that she had the whole place to herself. She grinned, letting her broom fall to her side. She was eager to get in the air, it had really been too long. She hadn’t had much time to herself this week, what with all of her classes and the need to sleep. But now that she had some time alone, she was looking forward to it. Of course, it would have been nice to have someone there with her, but she didn’t really mind. The birds flying up above would be nice companions.
Jac took the elastic band from around her wrist to pulled her hair back with it, her broom leaning against her side as she looked up into the clouds. She couldn’t wait to feel the wind blowing past her face, the weightlessness of it all, the calm. Plus the view was always amazing, too. She was simply excited for the experience; she could feel the butterflies in her stomach in anticipation.
It only took a moment for her to mount her broom and then be soaring into the sky. She circled the pitch, turning with ease as she leaned to the left, and then to the right. She wove through the quidditch hoops and around the poles. Then she simply let herself fly. She was tempted to go and get herself a snitch, but she decided to let that all wait. For the time being she was perfectly content with the simple joy of flying.
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