A/N: This is the first non-werewolf or non-vampire or hell, even a non-supernatural story I put on here. I'm also in the making of A Fate Worse Than Death and I'm going to try to load up a new chapter everyday when I'm not busy with my other story. How you enjoy. !Ren!

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Nothing was right. Nothing seemed to be right. Everything was so messed up that it just didn't make any sense. People say this isa free country, but we don't get to be free. Not really. We're forced to do things we don't want to do. We're always being forced. It's like they hand us a plate of lies and while we're eating them up, they knock us unconsious and put us in a world where nothing makes sense. They also say we have freedom of speech but when you say what you want freely, you get in trouble. That is whyNicole Penson was in detention.

Tapping her pencil on the desk, she glanced at the clock. Seven more minutes. She sighed and started to sketch in her notebook. Larry is going to kill her. She gets in trouble almost everyday and usually a detention every week. It wasn't her fault though. Even as she thought it, she thought that that was a lie. She could learn to leave well enough alone, but no one leaves her alone. It sucks going to school where you are ridiculed, bullied and talked down on and when you go to defend yourself, everyone, especially the teachers, turn against you. We have the right to self-defense and when you defend yourself, detention. Or even jail, depends on how scoffed. Anywhere would be better than here, she thought.

The teacher, a portly man with red hair and blue eyes, sat at the desk, watching Nicole. She ignored him like she did everyone else. Without looking at him, she knew he's eyes would be pitying for the trouble maker. Is there something you want to talk about? he'd probably ask her just like the school guidancecounselor and her therapist always do. Screw them, she thought. They tell her to express her feelings and she does, just not in the way the want her to.

"From the way I see it," the teacher, Mr. Fenrick, said, "you have about three minutes left." He folded his hands atop his desk. "You want to say anything?"

Nicolerolled her eyes. "Anything I do say will get me another detention so I think I'll reserve my comments until after I leave." She tucked a strand of dark, dark brown hair, almost black, behind her ear. It was shoulder length and had a slight wave to it. Green eyes, the color of spring grass, were not happy, unfriendly. A little bit of anger sparked in there as she stared at the clock for the last minute. It hit four and she stood up. Puttingher one strap backpack on the desk, she put her notebook and pencil inside, zipped it and slung it over her shoulder. She was 5'5" with a small frame. A black baggy t-shirt covered her upper body and said in red letters, "I Hate This Town." Her blue jeans were also baggy that she needed a belt to keep them up. White Adidas' with three black stripes made little noise as she walked to the door.

"You can talk about it," Mr. Fenrick said, stopping her. "If not to me, then to someone."

She took a deep breath through her nose and let it out of her mouth in a long sigh. "I don't talk to anyone because I don't want to." She walked out the door before he could say anything else to her that would piss her off.

The school was practically empty except for the last few teachers, the janitor and the after school practice for softball and hated preps. They're the ones who got her in trouble in the first place. They never leave her alone, always make fun of her and try to trip her in the hallway. But they only do it when they are with their friends and withNicole is alone, or just with Justin, one of her best friends. She has friends but just doesn't talk to them. The onlytwo she actually talks to is Justin andLauren. They are her best friends. They're probably at her house now which is where they always are. They practically lived with her because they rarely ever went stepped outside.

The air was windy and a little too cool but just the right temperature to where you didn't need a jacket but could wear one and still not be hot or to warm. The cheerleaders were down by the football field so she didn't have to walk by them because she walked the opposite way. The softball kids were in the baseball field beside the football walked around the school building and walked until she got to a small road and took it. It was Thursday. They had about three months left of turned right and started walking up a small hill, walking on the were on either side of her,some looming. She wished she would've brought her CD player. It wasn't a long walk to her house but she like to listen to music. Her favorite bands were Papa Roach, Crossfade and Three Days Grace. As long as she had their music to look forward to when she got home, it was worth going home.

Home, she scoffed. Some home. She lives with her brother, Larry. Ever since her parents died, things have gone downhill. They have a nice house and good money and everything but it's what happens in the and Larry contantly fight because he thinks she needs to not have such an attitude and actually do what she's supposed to. The only this she does that she's supposed to is her chores and her job. Larry pays her for doing her chores but she also has a job at the corner market down the street from her house. But he seems to think that everytime she gets in trouble, it's her fault. Sometimes it is but she admits it when it is. When it really isn't, he still doesn't believe her. He wonders why I rebel the way I do.

A wide, two story red brick was on the corner, on her right. Larry's silver Impala was parked on the side of the road. Five stairs led up onto a continuing little paved pathway and up some more stairs to the porch. She put her hand on the doorknob and walked in. The carpet in the livingroom was a dark blue mixed with shades of light blue. The walls were white. A door was across the room from Nicole which held the cleaning supplies and jackets. A couch that looked almost matched the same color blue as the floor was to the left of the door. Justin and Lauren sat onit, watchingNicole close the door. A long coffee table stood in frontof it with a vase of flowers on it. Beside it, but a little more forward was a greyish-blue recliner which Larry occuppied.

His hair was a few shades lighter than hers, cut shortwith darker green eyes. His skin wasn't as pale as hers was. Hers wasn't exactly pale but it was pretty light. He wasn't skinny but not really muscular. You could tell he had muscles but not as many as most of the guys do these days. But you could tell they were there in the way the tension tightened his shoulders under the tight yellow t-shirt. His hands were clasped over his stomach. He was a good-looking guy that girls always want to go out just wanted to punch him in the face. She would one day if he ever made her pissed off enough. And she wouldn't think twice about it.

"Why are you late?" Larry asked, voice carefully controlling his anger.

Nicolereturned his stare but let the anger show. "Detention."

He rubbed his face in his hands. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

"Me either," she said.

He steepled his fingers in front of his face and sighed. "You can't keep doing this, Nicole."

"Oh, so it's my fault," she snapped. "You don't even know what happened. And my name is not Nicole." She hated that name. Everyone called her Nick. Well, at least her friends did. Her enemies called her Nicole or Nikki just to piss her off. When she hadn't quite grown, taller wise, they used to call her little Nikki. Now she was either, taller, as tall or a little short than them.

"Fine, Nick, then what happened?" Larry asked.

"You won't believe me anyway," she accused. "If I tell you the truth, which was, I was walking down the hall and Carry started her crap again only this time, trying to add injury to insult but tripping me. When I stopped before she could do so, and glared at her, she started making rude comments and I started to make them back. Of course, the teacher heard what I said and gave me detention."

"Well, what did you say?"

She shook her head. "I told her where to shove it and that if I wanted any tips on how to get a car flagged down on the street corner, I'd come talk to her."

Justin snickered and Lauren smiled, trying to contain her laughter. They were there when it happened and found it hilarious. So did a lot of other people.

"Jesus, Nick," Larry said. "Couldn't you just have ignored them? Just this one time?"

She stared at him, no surprise that he wasn't taking her side or saying that she did the right thing by sticking up for herself, not letting them drag her down. Nope, just ignore them for once.

"Screw that," she snapped. "And screw you, too, if you're going to stick up for them."

"I'm not-"

"Bullshit!" she snapped and turned to her right, going through another door into the kitchen where the stairs were. She walked up them and her room was the door beside the bathroom. She went into her room but didn't slam the door. Slamming doors got you no where so there was no point. Slamming doors would not satisfy the need to rant and rave. Slamming doors would not satisfy the need to slam her fist into Carry's face.

Nick's room wasn't very small but not so big either. When you walked in, to the right was a white wall and at the end of the white wall was her closet. A few feet from it was her dresser. On the dresser was a red lava lamp, an alarm clock, and pictures of her and her friends. In everyone of them, she wasn't smiling. Rarely did she smile. There was one picture of her, Larry, her oldest brother, Chad and her parents. That was the only picture she was smiling in. The only picture she had reason to smile in. On the other side of the room was her bed, neatly made. Throwing her backpack on the floor she bounced on her bed. By the bed was a small table that had her CD's and stereo. Pressing PLAY, Crossfade's song, Dead Skin, started to play through the speakers. Her room was pretty plain and she liked it that way. There were posters of bands on the walls; Simple Plan, Blink 182, All American Rejects, Underoath, Crossfade, Three Days Grace, Papa Roach, Metallica, Korn, Linkin Park,Hawthorne Heights, Fall Out Boyand Yellowcard.

Already knowing it was going to be a bad day like every other one, Nick lay on her back and just stared at the ceiling. The only TV in the house was the one in Larry's room because Nick rarely watched TV. There was never anything good on so there was no point of having a TV she'd most likely never turn on. The window above her dresser showed it would be a beautiful day outside. Nick snorted.

Yeah, she thought. Compared to the bad day that's already happened.