Monster High - Revisited

1~ The Question

What makes a monster, really? I can't quite wrap my head around the answer to that.
It's pathetic, I think. How one person could be asking themselves the same question daily, but still fall just short of the meaning.

What does it mean to be a monster, exactly? To call someone that? Is it their appearance? I find most monsters have a unique look compared to humans. All humans are relatively similar, but monsters...? certainly not. Some have scales all over their body, and some are fully transparent, lacking a true body.
Or could it be in one's ability? I've observed that most monsters have "talents" ("talon-ts", as I'm sure they'd call it) that humans couldn't ever dream of performing. Like breathing fire, or screaming in a way that could burst anyone's eardrums.

No.. no! It has to be more than that. There has be something deeper that I just haven't grasped yet! It's this that keeps me up at night. I can never seem to come up with the right answer.

Now, I would continue brooding and ranting about this to you all, but it's hard to keep a steady train of thought in my current situation.

       "Gen! Get your bag ready. It's the next stop on the left!"

  I could tell by just a quick glance at the place that this was an establishment that liked to blow its own horn. "Monster High" it was called. My first thought about that was, "huh. That's a rather general name for a high school. Not very specific." But I realized in a short amount of time that this school wasn't very specific either. Not in the least.
Monsters flocked to every nook and cranny of the outdoor campus. It was a barrage of so many different colors- I swear my eyes started to ache. They all wore such bright clothing. The vast majority seemed almost gaudy looking. This wasn't too new to me though. Monsters did seem to have a... unique sense of fashion. Not one had the same aesthetic look. You could search a thousand years and find that no one would be caught alive looking the exact same as another. It's fascinating to me.

    The next thing I realized was that I was not the only new student rolling in. Now, I didn't expect to be the ONLY one- but this was insanity. One glance out the window showed me an entire line of cars. An entire line of anxious teens being comforted by their probably just as anxious, if not more anxious parents. The fact that I wasn't about to start sobbing like these other students was comforting to be sure. My mother, well, "mother" (more on that later), kept looking back at me in the mirror. I don't think she knew I caught her doing that. She must've assumed I'd be nervous about the whole arrangement. It was laughable. With how many schools I've attended in my life? How could I be anything other than rehearsed? It would only be a matter of time before I have to leave this school for reasons no one can share with me, just the same as all of the other schools. Why did this ever happen? Like I've said, no one has ever told me. I've always assumed it had something to do with my heritage, but no one would ever indulge me with the specifics. See, I'll be at a school for a few months with everything going perfectly fine. It will be just when I'm beginning to get accustomed that I have to leave for a reason never explained. I'll have one blackout moment during the school day, and then poof! I have to pack my bags, go live with a new family, and try attending a new one. The folks I'm living with now aren't my real parents, obviously. For starters, they're monsters, and I'm a human. A "normie" is the monster slang term. I'm sure there's some sort of derogatory word for a normie being raised by monsters and I just haven't picked up on it yet. Anyways, they are both spider monsters. Distant relatives of Arachne, maybe?

           This wasn't the first time I was placed with a monster family. Not even the first time I've been sent to a monster school, actually. I guess after all of that transferring, this must be the bottom of the barrel, so to speak. Very reassuring. 

  I slung my bag over my back and began to open the door when she stopped me with an arm (leg?) to my shoulder. 

         "Honey- sorry, sorry.. Gen. Do your best, alright? I've heard this school is very welcoming. Enjoy your first day." She seemed very intent on this. Me enjoying my first day, that is. That almost distracted me from the nickname slip up. Almost.