Areoreal got their homepage at Neopets.com

My whole story started when I was very small, right smack dab in the middle of my first year of school at St. Asparagusta. Saint A was an all-girls, private Neoschool snugly tucked on a road that looked like a romantic garden lane, despite its center-city location. My family was well off, and as an only child I only got the best; unfortunately, I also had high standards to follow. My mother had been a grade-representative every year while in the lower school, ending as head-girl in her twelfth year, and it seemed that everyone remembered her; whenever I made a mistake, whenever my shoes were scuffed, whenever my shirt was un-tucked, I was regaled with the greats of my mother. I looked quite like her, too, my white fur spotted with black and grey rosettes, my eyes the same bright pink that was a well-known family trait. Unlike my mother though, I was rebellious. I wanted to be unique. Of course, being a private school we had school uniforms; a white shirt, and a navy blue, white and grey plaid skirt; a skort for the juniors and a kilt for the seniors, which I found suffocating. Being white, I was the blandest little girl out there, and it made me miserable. I was a troublemaker, so no one wanted to be my friend, and I spent a lot of time on my own, especially at recess.
As I said before, my story really starts mid-year; it was March, and the snow had turned to ruddy, grey-brown slush, sleet falling through most of the week as the world defrosted. I hate early spring, being all white and grey and miserable, so I was especially sullen while exploring the park-like grounds of the school, when I came across something of interest. It was a saucepan, a pot, made of brightly painted earthenware, sitting half-buried in snow, beckoning me. I knew from the many recitations of the rules in detention that all hats were banned, however a pot was not a hat, whether you wore it on your head or not. Grabbing it and cleaning it with the corner of my skort, I soon plopped in happily on top of my head, marching in proudly as the bell rang.
Needless to say, my teachers were unimpressed. They berated me quite angrily, but I had my excuse at the ready; there was no policy against wearing saucepans on your head. They could not do a thing about it, I said, my entire five-year-old psyche swollen with the utmost pride. And then they called in the principal. He was a big, mean looking Skeith who kept candies on his desk that no one was allowed to have, and when he glared down at me I could feel my wings tremble.
."Little Aeroreal, I see that I have been called in on a matter of your behaviour yet again." He said, looming over me. "It is quite disappointing. Quite disappointing indeed that the child of one of the pillars of our own community has failed in so many ways. You know, she is the only reason we have yet to expel you, your wonderful mother. If you do not remove that nonsensical piece of kitchenware from your head I will have to change that."
I stared up at him, my beak clenched, my brow furrowed.
."Do not try me, Aeroreal. I will call in your parents if I must." He continued in his pompous way, his big hands flexing. "And then you will be expelled and have your parents very cross with you over such a silly reason."
."If it's a silly reason" I stated proudly, puffing out my chest "Then why are you bugging me about it? It's not hurting anyone!"
."Young lady, I will call your parents this very instant."

He did, too. And they came and all stood around me, glaring, not saying a word, until my mother stepped forwards to me "Aero, sweetheart, please take that bucket off your head" She pleaded, giving me a look that made me know I was in trouble. "You can stay here if you do, I promise, no punishment will be made." The principal grunted dissent at that, but I knew well enough that she wasn't telling the truth.
."I like it, mom. I want to wear it" I said, crossing my arms. "And I don't want to stay here either. So it's okay."
."Aero, look at me." My father said behind me, in his firm voice breaking through me thoughts. I turned to look at him and then... Oof! I was on the floor, my headgear removed by my mother. But she didn't look happy. In fact, she looked plain-out horrified.
."Wh-What happened to her HAIR?!" She shrieked, stepping backwards, her magenta eyes wide.
."Whatever happened, she can't come back until it's gone." The principal mumbled gruffly, stomping towards the door. "I'm sorry, Elystia. We'll still have coffee this Saturday, I hope?"

For the first few days my parents tried to wash it out; I had four baths a day, all with my mothers finest cosmetic level shampoos and conditioners. When that didn't work, they moved on to hair dyes and bleaches... when even that failed, stain remover all was poured onto my rainbow locks. But none of it helped. In fact, it got worse! My ear tips went first, showing a touch of pink on their tips one morning, which spread so much by the next day that I had either ear entirely covered in rainbow. From there it seeped down my mane, which took a whole year and a half to colour completely, all while my parents ran to doctors and cosmetologists, all of whom were stumped. By the time my spots and tail rings started filling in they were resigned to their fate... or perhaps it was mine that they resigned to. The tip of my tail had reached its final ring on my sixteenth birthday, and after almost eleven years of doctor visits and private tutors, troublesome pranks and a few minor problems with the law, my parent came to me and told me to get out. I could have money for food and a home, but they would not keep my rebellious self in their home, ruining their public facade and troubling their friends. That part of my life was over.