The alarm clock rings by Jadis' bedside table. As if by instinct, a hand pokes out from under the quilted blanket and tosses the clock to the floor. It really served no use, she's been up for hours, tossing and turning, praying to God for some sleep. It didn't come. She somehow manages to drag herself out of bed. Tripping on a shoe on the carpeted floor, she stumbles to the mirror. A thin, worn-looking teenage girl with straight brown hair stared back at her. There were streaks of mascara under her eyes; a souvenir from her painful memories. The bags under her eyes were now darker and larger than they used to be and she rubbed her bleary eyes, cursing under her breath. This was not her first sleepless night, nor would it be her last. There was just too much on her mind.
Jadis Parker Albertson grabbed a shirt and a skirt from her dresser drawer. Black, like every other article of clothing she owned. She yanked off her pajamas and pulled her black halter top over her head. Sliding her plaid black skirt over her legs. Finally, she pulled her pair of pinstriped knee-high stockings on and put a pair of Van's over them, then she smiled to herself. Today was Friday and then, she'd be free for the weekend. No school for two days. School is not nice to the "different" kids: the kids that dare to be their own person and seem to not care what everyone else thinks. But they do care, on the inside. Jadis walked over to the mirror and applied her eyeliner and mascara. She then spread a thin coat of black lipstick over her full lips and ran a brush to her hair, which was made straight in a second. I look pretty good, she thought, or as good as I'm going to look. Pulling on her mesh backpack, Jadis walked out to the hall, yelled, "Mom, I'm leaving!", and walked outside.