I wake up, my heart beating fast and my face hot. Hot... with tears? I quickly wipe my face dry and flashbacks of my nightmare of my sister dying come back to me. I can't cry, not today. I sniffled and stumbled out of bed and into my closet. I pulled out some black skinnies and a Green Day tee. In all honesty, I dread today. What if the kids from school treat me with utter disrespect and no appreciation. I stand still for a while, thinking of the misery l will soon be in until l figure that l'm use to the feeling of people treating me like l'm of no importance. I slowly, reluctantly head down stairs and into the fridge to grab some water. I usually skip breakfast so all l have left to do is my hair and eyeliner. I finish that easy process and go to the livingroom, now occupied by my silent and still parents. I so badly want to scream at them; scream at them and command them to say something. But instead, l just clench my fists and walk towards the front door.

"I'll be at school, see ya." I irritably told them and waved off. I walked to the bus stop and began to admire a bush of flowers in front of me. All of the bright orange flowers are flaunting their beauty, except for one who hides behind the bouquet. If flowers had feelings, l suppose that that one would feel left out; something that pretty orange flower and l have in common. Suddenly, an engine roars in front of me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I step into the yellow bus, seeing that l'm the first one in so l decide to go to the very back. Bad choice. As people start to flood in, all of the loud, roudy, and popular teenagers pile up in the back. I turn my music up to full volume to try and ignore them. It's hard to do so when you keep getting shoved against the window by the ignorant pigs that our generation calls 'lovely children'. Finally, we pull into the school but l realize that that's not a good thing. School always scared me, and l'm not looking forward to stepping into it's gates.

---

I walk into first class, maths, and l'm the first one there. Wait, no. The second. A figure comes into my vision and the first thing l noticed is very volumised hair and he seems to be scribbling something down on a sheet of paper.

"Ah, Christa. I'm Mr. Cunningham. Your seat is in front of Ray." The teacher started and pointed to the guy with the fro. I nodded and slowly sank into my chair. He looked up with soft, welcoming eyes and smiled. A smile that anyone could love. I instantly grinned back and thought of his name. Ray. It did suit him, suited his big brown eyes. Next thing l know, two boys began to sit at our table and they were holding hands. One had short, bleach blonde hair and hazel eyes that really stuck out. He was wearing a black Misfits hoodie, skinny jeans, and worn out black and white converse. The other shorter guy had almost black hair that curled up in a swerve around his jaw. He also had pretty, electric hazel eyes and he was wearing a black Beastie Boys long sleeve, black skinny jeans, and vans. The two of them, like l said, were holding hands and lovingly smiling at eachother. I assume they are a couple, a very, very cute one. I smiled at them and the taller one noticed and flashed his tiny teeth at me.

"Hi! The name's Gerard and this is my boyfriend Frank. And you are?" Gerard said with a very soft voice that made me grin even more.

"I'm Christa. I'm new here and ya..." I awkwardly trailed off, looking at my hands as I nervously laced my fingers together. Why can't l just have speaking skills? I ask myself before another voice cuts in.

"And I'm Ray Toro. Mr. Cunningham said that we have all the same classes, so I can show you around and--" Ray was cut off by the short guy, Frank, putting his fingers in his hair.

"Hey! Get your hands out of my luscious hair man!'' Ray squealed and Frank giggled with Gerard. I couldn't help but chuckle with them. Just when l thought the table couldn't get any more occupied, a boy settled in the final remaining seat. He was very skinny and had fantastic hair. I got interrupted by my thoughts again as he introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm Oli." He started with a British accent and I introduced myself like how l did with Gerard, Frank, and Ray. Oli smiled and began making talk with the others. I like everyone l am seated with, they all have a sense of kindness to them but there was something in each one of their eyes. Emptiness. Almost like a high percentage of positivity had been washed out of them, just like me. I guess hard times acquaintance themselves with the best of people. Anyways, the bell rang, Frank and Gerard held hands under the table as teenagers piled in, and we all payed attention to Mr. Cunningham as he began to speak.

Notes

Hello!
This is my first time writing for this story, also my first time co-writing with someone (Killjoy 4 Life).
I hope you guys enjoy and don't be afraid to comment.

--Monroeville