Part One: Chapter One

   I rose from under the covers and tiredly glanced at the clock. Four fifty-four. For some odd reason I had been waking up every hour, like my body was waiting for something to happen. I fell back on my pillow with a groan. People’s dreamy thoughts started to find their way back into my head so I looked for my headphones. It was a good thing I liked music and a lot of it or I’d be in a constant buzz of ignorant people’s thoughts. I turned it up at full volume. Hand In My Pocket by Alanis Morissette started to play softly, so I turned it down a bit. Usually I listen to bands like My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday, Simple Plan, The Used, and Green Day but it’s nice to listen to the softer songs when I can actually enjoy them. And I can seldom do that.

 

  Seconds after the song was over Monday morning quirks ran into my head. ‘What should I wear today, I hate Mondays, and I think I’ll just go back to sleep’s, were already clogging my brain. Ugh. I switched over to The Used and turned it way up. I could hear, even through my headphones, my mother and father getting up out of bed. They exchanged hugs, kisses, and some words and then began to get ready. I don’t have to worry about saying anything to them since they would leave way before me.

“Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things we put each other through and” I sang quietly while I got dressed. My British accent probably was messing up the words, but whatever. In the bathroom I took one long look at myself. I’m not fat by any standards. I’m in the last grade of high school, but I’m twenty-one because I failed a few grades, and I probably don’t weigh over 115 pounds. My stomach is too flat and my jeans barely looked filled in. I sighed. After a moment though I had to smile at my shirt. It was a black long sleeve thermal with jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas on it. My pale jeans looked odd with it so I changed into a darker wash and added my really big, but slim fitting, winter coat.

“Love you, Ava!” my mother yelled. She isn’t British, I was adopted, but my accent never went away. Obviously now you know that she doesn’t know of my burden. She could have just thought to tell me she loved me. Ugh. She knew I had my headphones in most of the time so I decided not to answer. When I was done brushing my hair, which is classified as scene by the way, I picked up my checker board duffle bag and slung it over my shoulder. I heard something clatter to the floor so I looked around. Ugh, one of my many buttons that cluttered my bag had fallen off. I took some super glue from my desk and tried gluing the stinker on.

“Try and come off now.” I whispered. All of my things were in my bag so I walked down the stairs. In the garage my pitiful out dated bike some how was still standing in the corner. I mounted it and rode off to school, music blasting the whole way.

  My Jersey school came into view quicker than I could have wished, but goods things like a non convoluted life must end sometime. My bike wheel rolled over the metal bike rack with a thunk and I chained it up. I checked my watch, it was only seven-thirty and school starts at seven-fifty so that means I could walk around or I could get on my homework…

The wind blew over my face and through my hair as I walked up the school steps to my locker. Stupid smart brain. I yanked it open and grabbed my math crap. I’m sure I had at least two pages to do in that. Sitting in the floor, I worked on my algebra. This stuff is hard! Kids do not, I repeat, do not try this at home or at all, your brain may explode. The bell rang. Seriously though, I had a head ach going into home room. I sat down reluctantly and traded my headphones for smaller ear pieces from my bag. The teacher started talking, a lot.

‘These kids better listen.’ Mr. Kraler thought. ‘They might like this.’ He started talking anyway. I turned my music completely off.

“Today you kids have a visitor. It’s a band of some sort and they’ve come to talk and play some of their music. Everyone is going, no question.” ‘I can’t wait to get rid of them.” He thought again and sighed.

“Who heard me?” he yelled. Everyone got really quiet. He repeated himself and mountains of questions were yelled out.

“Who is it?”

“Dude!” he threw his hands up and plopped down in his chair.

“Why?”

“I don’t like music!”

“Ah shut up! You people are getting out of class! Now go!” he yelled, waving us all out. I only moved when the kids were done trampling through the door way. Quietly, I walked to the gym. The gym looked so bland compared to the bands drums and posters. My vision was blurry from all of the noise, so I couldn’t read the bands name, but I did manage to find a good seat right up front next to a guy.