translucence
There weren't always dragons in the Valley.
I was at my desk in middle school when they first arrived an an otherwise normal, sunny Tuesday. My teacher, Ms. Drake was going on about fractions (I hated fractions), so I was daydreaming and staring out the window. Suddenly, the fire alarm began honking out its piercing, pulsating song. The class cheered at the welcome break from math, some kids excitedly giving each other high-fives. Our principal came over the loudspeaker to give her speech about safety, reminding us to "walk in an orderly fashion" to the parking lot. As I went through the halls towards the exit, I saw a few teachers crying. Some of the older kids looked a little scared, too. I didn't smell smoke, but I could tell something wasn't right. We got outside and there were a few police officers holding back a crowd of yelling, frightened parents.
