One

I stared stiffly out of the window.

The rain had painted the whole world in unsettling shades of grey. Even my emerald green jumper seemed to be losing its colour.

The world will fall on a day like this, the negative voice in my head muttered. Inwardly, I agreed.

"So," said professor Stulton, the school psychologist, breaking the silence. "Mrs. Larson, because things have come to this, it is my duty to tell you that your daughter missed four classes today."

"I see," my mum nodded. This wasn't too awfully unusual. I wondered if she understood what was going to come next now.

She wont, Negative told me. Your mother's as stupid as a cow. I ignored him.

"We did a search for her after school ended. She was found in the Girls Bathroom, with a rope around her neck."

Mum didn't seem to get it. Professor Stulton sighed, rubbing his temples. I felt almost sorry for him. Even though he looked like a baboons backside. "She had tried to take her life, Mrs. Larson."

Mum gasped.

Finally, came Negative's dry voice.

"B-but my b-baby wouldn't d-do that! You w-wouldn't, dearest, right?" she sniffled.

"The fact is, Mrs. Larson, that she did. Luckily, the rope was too thin to take her weight. The school council, however, have decided that it would be ... better if Mella began at a school more suited for children like her."

He thinks you're a retard, Negative commented.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Mum looked at me. I felt her eyes in my neck, scorching me.

"It is decided," Sulton said, "that by next monday, your daughter shall be transferred to Saint Harold's School for Lesserly Talented Children."

I sighed heavily.

"Come on, Mellie," mum said softly, "let's go. We'll need to get home now."

I got up. The rain drizzled on.

The sun shone brightly, glinting in mum's silver necklace.

We were sitting at an outdoor café, Green Cupid, drinking coffee (mum) and coke (me). Suddenly, I spotted a tall, blonde girl. She was wearing a blue t-shirt and black pants, an orange shopping bag dangling from her shoulder. I felt an immediate urge to go and talk to her.

"Mum, d'you mind if I go for a walk?"

She smiled and told me to go and have fun. That's mum for you. Two days since my suicide attempt, and she seemed to have forgotten allready. I got up, and walked off after the girl. She walked around a corner and disappeared out of sight. Almost panicking, I broke into a run. I had to catch up with her. I ran, loosing my breath, stitches in my side. In the end, I had to stop. I had run all the way to Grande Park.

You've lost her, said Negative, being a ray of sunshine, as usual. I looked around. He was right. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

"Exuse me?" came a voice from behind me. "Do I know you?"

I spun around. It was the girl. "Er, I don't think so..." I said, my voice dry. "Why?"

"I dunno, really, I just thought I'd seen you somewhere before."

I shrugged. No need in telling her more than I had to.

"Still, every person you meet is a new friend, right? I'm Eliza Little, by the way." She stretched out her hand for me to shake. For a moment, I was overwhelmed by her friendliness. Even Negative didn't find words. This had happened exactly two times since I was six. Inwardly, I shook my head. I took Eliza's hand.

"I'm Mella Larson," I said quietly.

"Nice to meet you," she beamed at me. "So ... what's going on?"

"Well, I'm starting at a new school on monday..." I looked at my feet.

"Oh, great! Which school?" She acted as though we'd been best mates forever.

"Saint Harold's," I muttered, turning as red as my hair.

"Cool. Want to get something to eat? I haven't eaten since seven, myself." I stared at her. Either, she was just plain, outright weird, or she didn't know what Saint Harold was. A school for insane people who lacked of social skills. That's the reason she's talking to you, Mella, Negative quipped. She belongs to the loony bin, no doubt. I ignored him, as usual.

"Eat something sounds fine," I nodded. "How about we go to the Velvet Curtain?"

"Okay ... really, I'm so hungry, I could've eaten a llama," she grinned. Loony bin, Negative said in a sing-song voice.

We walked out of Grande Park, navigating through the narrow (and not-so-narrow) streets. At last, stored away at the end of Inedit Street, we found the Velvet Curtain Café. It was one of those places you'll never find if you don't look for them.

The Velvet Curtain (it read,)

In the year of 1889

I pushed the door open, and stepped through it, into a dimmly lit room.

Eliza followed me, and gasped. On the inside, the café was decorated in a nineteenth century style. There were some wooden tables placed around in random, with matching wooden chairs, and even real, lit candles.

"It's so pretty!" Eliza said, breathless. Pretty wasn't the word I would've used. Classy, perhaps. Or beautiful. Either way, the Velvet Curtain was a brilliant place. It even had a stage. In it's earlier years, it had been a theatre, but it had been shut down in the twenties, when the movies came.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked, gesturing to a laminated menu stapled to the wall. Eliza studied it for several moments.

"An egg sandwich sounds good," she said at last. I ordered two sandwiches. They were done five minutes later. One of the reasons it's odd that the Velvet Curtain didn't have any more customers.

We sat down by a table close to the stage. It suddenly went really quiet.

"So, where are you from?" I asked casually, trying to start a conversation.

"Rhim. I live in Coldwick, though." A shiver in her voice suggested that she didn't like Coldwick very much.

"Coldwick? I've never heard of that."

"I hadn't either, untill about two months ago. It sucks."

I stared at Eliza with some surprise. It was almost impossible to imagine that she'd even say 'dirty'.

Your prejudice will be your end, Negative commented. Eliza nibbled at her sandwich. I hadn't even touched mine.

"It'll be allright," I said, not sure if I was trying to convince her or me.

Happy endings only happens in books or sappy movies, said Negative gloomily.

"Are you sure?" Eliza looked at me as if I was the God with all the Right Answers.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't say it, would I?" I said, grinning slightly. She smiled back. Then, she looked down at her wrist.

"Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to go."

"Okay."

She took the unused paper napkin from her plate, and a pen from her orange bag. Hurriedly, she wrote down her name and adress on it, then handed it to me. I took it, then wrote my adress on my napkin.

"Well, I guess we'll meet again some time, then," she said, before she hurried out the door. I got up, napkin in my pocket, and left.