Ch. 1

I guess by any stretch of the (quote on quote) “regular human mind” I am not a normal girl. Well in my mind, if I’m not normal then neither is my damn family. But I try not to let that bother me ya know? The fact that I’m in the 11^th grade and well, I’ve never had any friends… The fact that when I walk down the hallway I’m always alone. The sure fact that they all know that I’m not quite right, and that’s the reason that they stare at me the way that they do. They believe that I don’t realize that they stare at me funny, but I know, oh I know…

But maybe I’m getting a little too ahead of myself here. You see, it wasn’t always like that. I was unknown before. A total nobody in the patchwork that seems to be high school. I used to be able to walk down the hallways, into my class even, without the stares from people I don’t even know. It was all because of that damn night. The night full of regrets and broken promises…

Now I sit here in this class half drifting in and out of my teacher’s words… “2x + 7y = …” I could care less I think quietly in my head, this stuff is so useless anyways. I know this stuff, so I drift out again, letting my mind wander. My teacher’s eyes wander unto mine and he gives me a weird stare, again. I go back to pretending to copy notes down in my notebook, but I write a poem down instead:

Lookin’ At You

Here I sit in this class

Feeling all alone by myself

I look all around, and to my surprise

Do you know what I see?

You…

You standing there, looking like that

You don’t notice me, don’t realize I’m looking

But it doesn’t really matter does it now,

‘Cause our love will never be

Not because you don’t know me

Not because you never will,

But simply because you teach me…

He writes our assignment on the overhead and takes his place back at his desk. I write down the assignment, but like usual don’t feel like doing it, so I whip out my iPod and write a little more poetry (If you could really even call it that)… He comes over to my side of the room and looks out the window next to my desk. I get nervous, I just never liked people close to me or watching me, especially him. He walked next to my desk and looked down at my blank paper. He grabbed my Ti84 calculator and typed in “C me.” I looked down, pretended not to notice what he had typed, and gruntingly started my homework. The bell rang and I gathered my supplies and headed for the door as quickly as possible, but apparently not quickly enough, for he called out, “Kianee.” And of course it had to be in that annoying voice of his. I turned around and tried to hide the pained look on my face to no avail. He approached me and said, “Now you can’t keep running from this…” He placed his hands on both my shoulders and moved closer. I could feel the anger growing inside me. “I ain’t running from nothing. Get your hands off me!” I yelled. I pushed him away from me grabbed my books and took off for the door. But I didn’t head for my 6^th hour, I went straight outside and to my car. I threw my books in the passenger side and hopped in. I had to get out. I drove to the only place I knew to go.