Chapter 1

“Hey guys it’s Goth girl,” one of the loud and obnoxious boys jeered as I slowly made my way to my locker, after sixth period. I ducked my head down lower as laughter filled the halls. I sped up my pace, attempting to ignore everyone and everything around me.

Seven more yards and I would have reached my locker. Unfortunately, though, for me, the world is cruel. Someone had stuck out their leg as I passed them. I fell forward, my books and binders flying out of my arms and spreading themselves across the hallway’s purple floor. The laughter grew louder in my ears. I could feel the tears starting to prick up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Blindly, I sat up and tried to gather my belonging.

Furiously, I swiped at my eyes, with the back of my hand aiming to clear my vision. I stacked up my belonging in front of me. Carefully, I scanned the floor to make sure I had everything. That when I spotted it. A long fingered hand held out my red notebook towards me, as if the owner of said hand was offering it to me. But I knew better. I scrambled to my feet, gathering my things quickly. I took off down the hall, trying to out run the laughter.

I came to a stop in front of my dented yellow locker. The thin silver scratches on the front, where someone had scribbled their little Goth girl chant, stared out at me, almost like they were trying to make the already bleeding scars bigger. Once again, I could feel the tears coming. My shaking hand reached up to the dial, and spun twice before entering my combination. “Great,” I grumbled to myself when my locker refused to open. I tried the combination again. No luck. I turned to look up and down the hallway, looking for someone that might help. No one. The halls stood empty around me. I entered my combination once more. It stayed firmly closed.

My small hand grew into a fist and slammed it into the front of my locker. I lifted the lever to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. I began to bang on the locker, taking out my anger on it. Once more I tired the combination only to find that it wouldn’t open.

My shaking fingers must have caused the dial to miss the numbers slightly. I let out a frustrated breath of air as I shifted my books in my arm before lifting my hand back to the dial.

“Here, let me,” a deep musical voice said from behind me. I froze as his arm brushed up against my side, my breath coming quick and shallow. I watched as a long fingered hand came into my view and gently pushed mine away from the dial. “What’s your combination?” I opened my mouth to answer, but stopped. He could have just wanted to know the combination so he could steal something later. Swiftly, I spun around; pushing passed the boy, behind me, and started toward the nearest door. “Hey, wait!” the boy called after me. I kept going, speeding up to a run as I reached the double doors at the end of the hallway. I ran out, across the parking lot, to my car.

Reaching my silver jeep, I swung the door open and slid into the driver’s seat. I dumped my books in the passenger seat, making a note to find my old backpack later. I stuck the key in the ignition, trying to stabilize my hand’s shaking. Slowly I switched into reverse, and backed out of my parking space.

I drove in front of the school, heading for the parking lot exit. Passing the front steps, I noticed a boy, about my age, sitting on the steps, running his hands through his brown spiked hair. Suddenly, he looked up at me, his dark eyes holding a strange look to them. My eyes found their way back forward, and I started for home, not caring enough to put thought into who he was.

I pulled into the driveway of a two story white house, about ten minutes later. I slid out of my car and ran up to the front door. I entered the house, and pulled off my shoes.

My family was kind of abnormal…mainly because of my mom. I was an only child and usually lived with just my mom, except for those rare occasions when my dad could come home from work, which didn’t happen very often. I think he had only been home a total of two times in the last year, Easter and the Fourth of July. My dad was a businessman and spent most of his time on business trips.No duh. My mom… let’s just say she was a very young 47-year-old.

“Mom?” I called as I entered the kitchen to find her with a new hair cut. Her once blond, straight, long hair was now short, permed and hot pink with blond highlights. Yeah… my mom is crazy…

“Oh, hi honey, Cristy and I are going to a concert tonight, with the girls. There’s leftovers in the fridge that you can heat up for dinner,” my mom, Nicky, explained hastily, as she finished touching up her red nail polish. It was then that she looked up at me. “Lexi, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered. Well, not necessarily fine, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe it’s your dark cloths,” Nicky thought out loud. “You really should wear brighter cloths; your black ones make you look all sad.” Sorry Mom, I don’t think it is my cloths that are making me look sad. “I know, come on, we’re going shopping,” Nicky said brightly setting down the nail polish.

“What about the concert?” I asked, trying to stop whatever my mom was planning. I knew with every second she kept planning that it was only going to get worse.

“We have plenty of time,” Nicky said as she grabbed her keys and started toward the door. I had no choice but to follow behind.

Okay, so I read through this story recently, and decided that it needed to be rewritten. I'm not going to try and change it too much, I'm just adding more details. I don't mean to change anything, but there might be some things that need to be changed in order to keep it going. I am really thankful to everyone who has read this story and even more thankful to those who have reviewed and given advise. Anyway, I hope you like it!!