Prism info

Instructions

I wrote a little story from Prism's point of view ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Prism's mouth stretched into a yawn, and she realized she overslept... AGAIN. "UGH." She grumbled, racing down the staricase. It was already 9:00 AM and her parents hadn't wakened her up. "MOM! DAD!" She said, as she reaced down the stairs. "Yes?" Her mother asked, switching off the television. "Why didn't you wake me up? I don't want to spend my break sleeping..." Prism said, and sat down with a thump, her tail slightly lashing. "I was watching the news, and there were some dangerous robots in the town. I believe the Crystal Crew took them down." Prism's mother said softly. "Crystal Crew? Seriously?" Prism slumped forward, ears twitching. “They’re always causing trouble… or fixing trouble… or whatever.” She rubbed her eyes, still half‑asleep. “Robots, though? On my break?” Her dad peeked around the kitchen doorway, holding a mug. “You weren’t in danger. The Crystal Crew handled it fast.” Prism groaned again, louder this time. “Ughhh. Great. So, the city’s exploding and I’m just—” she gestured vaguely at herself, “—asleep.” Her mom gave her a look. “You like sleeping.” “That’s not the point,” Prism muttered, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to miss stuff. Even if the stuff is… killer robots.” Prism opened the door, her paws tracing the wood. She opened the door, running out before her mom could say anything. She needed -alone time. After all, she was EXTREMELY bad at socializing. She walked through the streets, ignoring everyone else. Prism kept her head low as she padded down the sidewalk, tail flicking in tiny annoyed swishes. The city was already awake — too awake — with chatter, footsteps, and the leftover buzz of whatever robot chaos happened earlier. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She never did. If someone glanced her way, she pretended she didn’t notice. If someone waved, she pretended they weren’t waving at her. She just walked. The air felt different today — heavier, like the city was holding its breath. Prism tried to ignore it, but her ears twitched anyway. Something was off. She turned down a quieter street, finally able to breathe a little. “Finally…” she muttered, shoulders relaxing. But then she froze. Up ahead, near an alley, something flickered — a faint blue spark, like leftover glitch‑energy from the robot attack. Prism blinked. “…Seriously?” she whispered.