1 * One *

I gasped as I sat up from my bed, my shirt stuck to my body and drenched in sweat. I felt like I had gone without oxygen for longer than I should've.

God, what was my dream about again? It felt like threads in large tangled piles falling through my hands. I simply couldn't grasp a full remembrance of my dream.

I got up and ripped off my sticky shirt. My alarm clock said it was 5:35 A.M., but I suppose that was only 30 minutes before I was meant to wake up anyways, so there wasn't any point in trying to go back to bed. It's not like I'd be able to after a dream like that.

I still couldn't remember it, but it had me fully shook.

I put on a substitute tank top and grabbed the cup on water on my nightstand. I took a long drink and suddenly I felt the crush of deep thirst crash upon me. I walked into the kitchen and refilled my cup a couple of times, drinking them down violently as if I had never had a drop of water before. I eventually stopped after about 6 cups, and I realized how odd that was.

My feet protested as they met the not-so-soft carpet of the living room. I plopped down on the couch, still tired. I grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped myself up.

My head fell limp and I allowed it to happen. I had no motivation to go to my new school today, nor make new friends.

A bottle fell from inside mom's bedroom and made a loud clattering sound. I was unconcerned. I told her she needed to pick up after herself, but with how much she drinks, that was like asking trees to pick up their own falling leaves.

I decided to start getting ready for the day. I don't think I want to wait for mom to crawl out here pitifully asking my assistance.

I pulled together an outfit I thought was pretty average, but flattering at least. I put on some ripped, bleached jeans with a tank top and a flannel over it. I wasn't a big fan of being too showy with my body. I recognized that I was a very pretty person, but I didn't like the idea of living based off of looks.

I piled my long, auburn hair into a messy bun on top of my head. I had very pale skin and green eyes that went really well with gold jewelry. I put on a crescent necklace and moon-shaped earrings that made me wince when I poked them through my mostly closed-up ears. The only reason I wore the jewelry was simply because they were gifts from my dad before he left us. I didn't hate him like mom did. I liked being reminded of him.

I didn't bother with make-up. It just seemed pointless.

I sat at the kitchen table fidgeting and kicking my feet. I was mostly done getting ready, but I still had half an hour to kill. I looked over at the sink, dishes overflowing and a suspicious moldy smell emanating from that general direction, and I decided to do the dishes. I just hoped the smell wouldn't get on me, but if it did, who cares?

Sophomore year and I'm already sick of high school. Isn't that interesting? People tell you high school is supposed to be the time of your life. The fun of the teens. I think that youth is wasted on the young.

I came across a particularly nasty dish and chose to finish this specific task at a later time. Besides, my thirty minutes had elapsed, so I slung my bag over my shoulder and left without saying goodbye to mom. My school was only about a mile from my house. I wasn't one for driving when I didn't need to.

Entering the school was like Barbra Streisand walking on to the stage. Everyone's eyes had immediately turned to me. They weren't bad nor good looks, just blatant curiosity. However, with how much we moved, I wasn't too surprised. I always dominated the schools I went to, becoming the popular, pretty, nice girl. I didn't like that. Unfortunately, my genetics simply didn't allow me to blend into the general populous. Thus, I made myself comfortable with the eyes on me.

I pulled my binder out of my backpack since it contained my schedule for the day.

English, room 1209.

Yay. Another day of finding my way around a high school. I stood in place, and everyone in the hall moved around me. Two groups of people stopped to offer me help.

The first group was comprised of 5 boys in letterman jackets that were most likely asshole-jocks. The other group had 2 boys and 2 girls who were dressed in large hoodies and skinny jeans. The girls had streaks of green in their hair while the boys had the scene cut from the 2000's. I'm sure you can figure out who I decided to go with.

"Hi! I'm Tabitha," the shorter of the two girls smiled at me. She was absolutely adorable. She had a hoodie that said "Imminence" on it, which I didn't understand, but it was so big on her she could probably live in it as a house. She had black ripped jeans and black boots that seemed to really fit her aesthetic. Her hair was down her chest, peeks of green showing through.

"I'm Denise," I grinned back at her. We all together walked along the corridor, trying familiarize me with the classes.

"I'm Tony," the tallest boy said in a low rumbling voice. He was very thin and swimming in his hoodie as well, but it wasn't as big on him as Tabitha's was. His said "Fall Out Boy" and I knew who that was this time. His hair was long and messy. It went all the way down his neck and was pitch black.

I waved in return.

"I'm Jessica," the other girl said in a high pitched voice. She had a long pixie cut and wore a crew-neck instead of a hoodie that said "Dance Gavin Dance". I didn't know this band either, but it seemed like her and Tabitha might have been into more underground music than the boys. Jessica's hair was purely green. It wasn't dark, it was more of a light, pastel, lime.

"I'm Drake," the shorter boy laughed. He didn't quite seem to fit in with his "Machine Gun Kelly" shirt, but they all seemed to be friends. He was blonde and had fluffy, long hair that touched his shoulders. He wore skinny jeans that were tighter than the girls' and I tried to suppress a giggle.

"Nice to meet you all! Do you guys have any idea where 1209 is? It seems like a weird enumeration system I'm not familiar with," I laughed softly. They all looked at each other.

"I've never heard of a 1209 room. Maybe it was misprinted!" Tabitha suggested. "What teacher do you have for what class?"

"Uhm, Ms. Ralley Smith for Advanced English 10?" I told them. They all looked amongst each other and nodded. They did this quite often as if they were telepathic.

"I have that class first period, too! I'll bring you there and we'll correct your sheet!" Tabitha beamed at me. She was so adorable and energetic! I walked with them until the bell rang and they all split, so I was alone with Tabitha. She checked the empty halls and grabbed my arm, leading me into a room.

The room had the same moldy smell my sink did. I was fairly sure this was a janitor's closet and not an English classroom, but you never know.

"Uh--"

"Shut up, bitch," Tabitha's hard forearm met my neck as she crushed me against the wall of the moldy closet wall. I could barely breathe and I could feel my feet leave the ground as she pushed up.

"You have two choices. We can do this quietly, or we can do this roughly. You get to choose," Her eyes seemed to have changed to a pitch-black color, but I was sure it was just the bad lighting.

I kicked her as hard as I could in the stomach, but she didn't flinch a bit. Panic filled my insides as I realized how truly helpless I was against this small person who had the strength of a giant.

"Haha, okay, you made your choice," She laughed with a serious note behind it. I watched as she wound up her fist and prepared to strike. I fought like hell, but she delivered a serious blow. Everything went dark and all my senses failed.