Charlie Huntington's Sorting

Charlie followed the directions he'd been given to the Headmistress's office, scarcely blinking, out of fear an imagery may flash across his eyes.

What an awful timing it would be.

Not that he lived his life like this, it was that today of all days would be a great determiner for his future: the only one he couldn't seem to see ahead for, and he wasn't going to let it be so easily burned down- especially for first impression on the Headmistress.

He focused on the intricacy on the door as he knocked on it.

Callissa walked to the door and opened it up to see a young first year.

"Hello," she walked back to the desk. "I am Callissa Mae Rowen, sixth year Erindale and sorter.

Please sit down and tell me about yourself," she said. "Who are you? What can you do? How do others see you? Who do you want to be?"

Charlie felt bombarded with questions, even though he'd been anxious to get to it. Like getting the whole cake at once instead of a few pieces steadily.

But still, he kept his bright, cover-up smile on wide.

"Who am I? Grand question, miss," He nodded lightly. "I'm Charlie."

"My power's only happened once before," He lied in the softest-yet-still-audible voice he could manage, in hopes the lighter he said it, the lighter the weight of it would be on him.

"I can't answer how people see me, but perhaps you can. After all, you're looking at me!" He smiled. "But, I personally would love to be a more creative person. Honestly, I've just never had the mind for it."

It was true; his constant reminders the worst things can't be changed left the boy with a burning, painfully practical mindset programmed strictly to thinking inside the box.

"What exactly is your power?" Callissa asked.

"I saw the future," He said, calmly as possible. "I didn't like what was going to happen, so I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. All I can see is fixed points."

"I'm no seer," he laughed nervously.

"Fun, energetic, happy," Callissa said. "Does this sound like you?"

"Not exactly, ma'am. I could be considered those, if we were to be blunt, but energetic is too strong a word. Spirited, yes, indeed. Optimistic too."

He looked past her, to the wall, and sighed, "Fun is also quite a general term."

"Okay. Do you have many friends?" Callissa asked. "Are you happy more often than sad? Do you like to be doing things rather than just sitting down doing nothing?"

"Well, correction, I had many friends," He nodded shortly. "I joined this school. I plan on making more than just some friends, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, miss, I am happy far more than sad," He said, as if he meant it. "And I love participating in all the events I can. No time is wasted!"

"Ceballeran," Callissa decided.

"Dismissed."