Personal Narrative: Acidalia

See there was this one girl, Acidalia in my chemistry class. She seemed like an ordinary girl, tall, brown hair, perky nose,and above all perky breasts. But she was not ordinary to me; I fell in love with her. Yep, she somehow managed to lure me in with her angelic façade. She sat three rows away from me but still, we seemed to find a way to stare into each others’ souls while our instructor babbled on about chemical bonding. I did not know much about Chemistry but oh damn did we have some sort of inseparable bond. Others seemed reluctant to the idea of her being mine; not because she was a girl with mutual feelings of affection towards me, but because it was something much more than that. Something that to others was a instant deal-breaker.
One word, unorthodox. I built up the courage to go to one of her consisted of her dragging me to a rally or a protest demanding gender equality along the street of a hectic intersection. And yes, I was the only male there but she seemed to respect me more for that reason. The bypasses seemed to enjoy watching women screaming, holding up colorful posters with a fist drawn on it. I could not comprehend why women were so mad all the time; who made them so bitter? As the light turned red Acidalia went up to one of the cars’ window and screamed “we demand to be treated equally”, and the man chuckled and threw his drink at Acidalia. I then witnessed what everyone warned me about. As the man continued to be on his way, Acidalia took the wooden rod that held her poster up and smashed it into the mans window. He abruptly stopped and got off his car. “What the hell is your problem? she asked wrathfully. “Go back to the kitchen you bitch” he replied. All the women dropped their jaws and turned extremely red. I took a look at Acidalia and her once beautiful brown hair turned into vicious snakes, as her eyes pierced the mans soul. All I could think was...holy shit. At this point my back was against the stoplight pole and my eyes had never been as open as they were at that very moment. I had never seen her act like such a savage. And thats when I realized my friends were right, she was crazy. She was like a lion, not a lioness, but a furious muscular, testosterone filled lion, as she jumped on the mans back and punched him several times. I felt bad for the poor ignorant man because they left him crawling on the road. She then fixed her shirt and confidently asked, “Who’s