Chapter 2

The walk was awkward. Neither one of them seemed to know what to say so they just left it at silence, only breaking it once or twice trying to get a conversation going. Yet Darrel, like most people, was annoyed by her stuttering and decided to cut it off short. Not that Cammie minded at all.
 
She was actually thrilled as the iron gates of their school came into view and he mumbled, "Um.... See you later." before walking off to join his friends.
 
A sigh of relief passed through her lips as she walked to the building alone. Yet it was a bit too early to relax because the Blonde Babbling B*****s, as they were commonly known throughout the school- with no offense meant to the blondes- interceded her.
 
It was a common ritual for them to make snide remarks about her appearance, cloths, or anything else that seemed to amuse them that day, but today was a bit different. They actually took her on straight on.
 
"Hello Cammie." The ringleader, ironically named Barbie, sneered. The irony was in their appearance: they looked exactly the same with their hair, eyes, fake smiles, and the biggest similarity, both had a face almost purely made out of plastic.
 
Though the thought of telling the girl off sprung to her mind, yet she swallowed it down. She didn't have the confidence to say the words out loud. "H-hi." She stuttered instead, looking at the floor.
 
"We'll make this simple because we have better things to do." She started looking at her nails as she spoke, "Don't go anywhere near Darrel again. He may be nice enough to allow you walk with him to school, but we're not going to stand for it. Your ruining his image."
 
Starring intensely at the ground, her hands clutched her books tighter. He allowed her to follow him to school? She made it sound like that was the best thing in the world. To Barbie and the rest of her Babbling idiots, it probably was but not for Cammie. She didn't say anything though she nodded her head obediently.
 
"I'm glad you understand." She said sweetly, "Oh and by the way, amazing shoes." As they left, giggling as if it were the funniest thing in the world, Cammie just rolled her eyes and moved along.
 
There was only so little time before the bell rang and she at least
wanted to say a quick hi to Mr. Johnson and get a paragraph added to one of her many ongoing stories. Scurrying along in the hallway, she kept her eyes open for anyone else that might want to "talk" with her.
 
Luckily she entered the room without another run in. "Hello Cammie." Mr. Johnson greeted as she came in.
 
"H-hi." She said with a bright smile. He was her favorite teacher and she was his favorite student. But more important, he was the only one who knew about her situation at home.
 
"So today's visiting day?" He guessed.
 
Enthusiastically, she nodded and stated, "E-every Wednesday and Sunday."
 
He nodded. "Tell your mom hi from me okay?"
 
"W-will do!" She exclaimed, sitting down in a random desk. Her mom and Mr. Johnson were childhood friends and Cammie knew him long before she ever stepped foot in this school. He was so close to the family, her younger siblings called him Uncle Ron. So it was only reasonable that he would be contacted when her mom was diagnosed with cancer a year ago.
 
At first he tried to help them with finances, but the teacher's salary could barely support his own family. Yet he kept on trying to help any way he could.
 
Though she never really told him, he was her inspiration to get a job at the local library. The pay wasn't the greatest but it was the only place she could find that hired fourteen year olds.
 
Sighing, she thought of her job. This was one of her two days off and both days she spent the exact same way: catching up on school work, taking extra care of her siblings, visiting her mom, and if she had extra time, she would write. Wasn't much of a life, yet it was her life none the less.
 
"I might actually come with you today." He chatted, "It's been a while since I've seen her."
 
"S-she'll be thrilled." Though the words came out of her mouth, she knew not to get her hopes up. Mr. Johnson was always busy with work or family. It didn't help that those days she went were the busiest for him. But what could she do?
 
Sighing, she took out a red velvet journal from her backpack and flipped to the back. This was her favorite story- her baby story in a way. It was the first one she had ever written. Even though it was crap, it would always hold the number one story to her.
 
After reading the last paragraph she started to work. The image in her head turning into words which she then planted onto the paper. Her mind zoomed as she shuffled around in her skull for the right words to use and in less than two minutes her surroundings were gone. She was where she wished she could always be- in her own world.
 
No matter how perfect the world was or how much she wished she could stay there, Mr. Johnson called her back to the real world, "Cammie?"
 
Looking up from her writing, she spotted multiple kids in the room. Most of them were off on the side chattering like wild but one was standing right in front of the teachers desk, practically ignoring the others: it was Darrel. When or why he came here she didn't know or cared to figure out.
 
"Y-yes?" She questioned.
 
Smiling kindly, Mr. Johnson said, "I have to leave the room so I was wondering if you could help these kids with their questions."
 
Snickers and whispers could be heard from the group of kids talking. Both of them ignored the kids and Camile nodded in agreement. English was her best subject. Whatever their question was, there was no doubt in Mr. Johnsons head that she could help them with anything yet she was less certain. A lot less certain. Yet, she wanted to do whatever she could for him.
 
"Alright. I'll be back as soon as I can." He told them before leaving.
 
Soon as the door shut, she asked , "W-what d-do you n-need h-help w- with?"
 
A few more chuckles came before Darrel answered, "I don't get how were suppose to do the paragraph." Everyone looked at him in awe- including Cammie. This happened every so often but no one really asked her to help. They just awkwardly left with a lame excuse- that's why she always said yes. It made Mr. Johnson happy and she really didn't have to do anything.
 
But now she just had to slow herself consciousness and help. If it were only that easy... "W-what a-about it?" She asked. To her it was a simple assignment- write an essay about three fallacy so that a five year old could get it and give examples.
 
"Well, I'm confused about fallacies in general." He answered, "Like with what they are."
 
Wow.... How dumb was he? Or is it that he's not dumb but he just doesn't pay attention in class? Probably a mix of both. Cammie concluded before she explained an entire semester worth of knowledge in five minutes. "D-do you g-g-get it?" She inquired.
 
"Sort of." He answered sheepishly.
 
"Maybe he would get it better if you stopped stuttering." A familiar  voice sneered.
 
If anyone else had said that, it would have just bounced right off of Cammie. Yet it wasn't anyone else, it was Kayla. Her ex- best friend from middle school. Their friendship lasted all of two years before everything started to change. Before Kayla's dad finally made it and they became rich. Before Kayla became rich. Before Kayla started to change into one of the many Blonde Babbling B*****s.
 
Yet even in middle school when they weren't friends, she NEVER picked on Cammie. On the contrariety actually, she tried to protect her from the other girls.Apparently that had dissolved just like their friendship: without any warning. She hadn't expected it to last forever but it still hurt hearing her say those words.

Throwing her a well deserved glare, she picked up her journals, clutched them tightly to her chest, and walked out. Tears were beginning to form, but Cammie refused to acknowledge their presence as she scurried through the hall. She needed to find a hiding place. Somewhere she could be completely alone and deal with rationally.

Before she could even turn the corner of the hallway, the dreaded feeling came over her again. Crap! This is  not the time! She yelled in her head, but it was far too late. Just like before, her eyes turned white and her surrounding changed. Instead of standing in the middle of the hallway, she was pinned against the lockers with an ugly face inches away from her.

This face was one she saw almost as many times she has seen her own. It was the local bully of the school. Like usual, the guy was trying to get one of the meek sophomores to his homework for him. The idiot may have brawns but his brain has the same capacity of a fly. Yet somehow he had a 3.5 GPA.

"No!" The sophomore boy yelled in refusal, "I won't do it!"

The bullies face twisted into a nasty snarl. "Like hell you won't." He growled, lifting the boy slightly away from the lockers only to shove him forcefully back. Pain exploded down his spine, and Cammie gasped.

What was happening? Why wasn't she going back? Never had she experienced another persons pain. Every time they were about to get hurt she would snap back to her body, thankful for that one privilege of returning unharmed. Yet now she was stuck in this boy's body, minutes away from being beaten and not able to do anything about it.