CLICHES

Chapter One:

Invictus

It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

We are born. We live. We love. We die.

That is how our oh so mundane lives are. We can't change it. It's not in human nature to do otherwise. Well, it is possible to love before you live, but that is not what would normally /generally/ ordinary/ traditional/ regular/ typically occur to the average human.

Or would it?

The answer honestly depends on your definition of normal. Would normal be the girl whom has the exact same schedule everyday and never varies her agenda unless the rarity of some nearly unheard of interruption intrudes on her perfect line up? Or the boy who has nothing that would make him different from any other billions of human beings on earth?

I would have to say that I was a perfectly average girl who had nothing that would make her special among the crowds. I wore whatever was middle class fashionable at the time, made A's and B's, and never stood out.

Here is where the normal cliché character would say "Until fill in the blank stepped into my life". But my life is everything other than a cliché because now I will not fall into standard society's way of telling me how to live my life. I will choose my path; to be normal and unextraordinary or to rip free of the binds known to our youth as peer pressure and shine for all to see.

It is my choice and no one else's.

End of story.

I woke up at 6:30 to get ready for school. I had hit the snooze button twice this morning, due to the fact that I had stayed up till at least midnight finishing a paper that was due in two days. It wasn't exactly a routine yet, to stay up late to finish papers that weren't due for a few days, but I had the feeling that it would soon be one.

I rubbed my eyes, and stretched my arms behind my back until the muscles in my shoulder blades felt properly warmed up. Yawning, I slammed my feet onto the floor giving my self enough umph that I could push myself out of my warm comfy bed that was seductively calling my name, begging me to come back and sleep for just a little bit longer….

The temptation rolled off my back like water off of plastic; the plastic won't allow itself to soak the water up, just as I won't allow myself the pleasure of climbing back into my resting place. I stumbled away into the bathroom and did my brushing-- both types, that is, tooth and hair. I pulled the brush through the brambles that were at the moment my hair and the scraped my teeth clean of the bacteria that my dentist told me were there, but I had no way of knowing for sure that he wasn't lying just to make a profit.

Done with hygiene, and starting to wake up, I walked back to my room, pulled an Abercrombie shirt out of my drawer and over my head pairing it with plain ole jeans. Back to the bathroom I went, swiped on some makeup, finally almost ready for the torture that most people prefer to call high school.

Completing the process of the before-works of going to school, I grabbed a strawberry pop tart from our kitchen and sat down to eat it slowly with my brother while both my parents bustled around getting ready for work.

My dad was and still is an engineer. What he engineers, I have no idea, but if on of my teachers were possessed by the urge to ask me what is my fathers occupation, I could at least inform them that he has the respectful job of being an engineer.

My mother was and still is a 7th grade English teacher at one of the local middle schools. Make sure if you ever mention her job around her to call it middle school, not the god- awful junior high. I was never in her class thankfully.

I glanced at the clock only to see that it was now 7:33 and time for me to leave so that I would make it to school before homeroom starts. I could only imagine my teachers face if I walked in late. Actually, I can imagine her countenance having had it directed at me once or twice this year. Yes only once or twice, because I am what they like to call a glider.

What could glider possibly mean? Well it means that I am one of those students who the teachers never actually notice. I am not a teacher's pet or goody two shoes, never have been, and never will be, but neither am I that kid who's every action is devised to drive the teacher to the edge of insane and back again. I do not stand out among the other students and the educator's eyes just slide from me to whoever is beside me. Therefore, the term glider.

I arrived at school, about eight minutes before the bell rang and announced me as being late. Just enough time to get all my books and papers together, get myself into class, and in my seat before the bell, but not so late that I would call attention to myself.

Situations similar to this had been occurring since the beginning of the year, which if I was right was a little over ten months ago considering that finals were in two weeks, AKA the last week of school.

I half listened to the teacher preach on and on and on about limits, but I didn't actually fully listen considering that my crush, Chase Godlee, was sitting one desk to the right and two desk forward in front of me. I mean how could I pay attention when I could see his dark luscious waves shining in the light, so close to me that if I had stood up on my desk, then I could dive and tackle him?

He turned his face slightly towards me as he received a note from Lauren Justice, his girlfriend's best friend, and the his profile changed a little and I guessed that his perfect lips had curved up in a smile. Oh, those lips, how delicious it must be to kiss them, taste them, feel them upon yours, opening up, inserting his tongue into your own mouth….

And that was his lips, for God's sake! His lips alone! His legs are long and wiry, just the way I like guys and while most guys would die for the torso of a bodybuilder or football player-- wide and thick-- I prefer them to be wide and thin. And long… The taller the better!

His hands could envelope my own hand in his palm with my hand fully outstretched with no problem. Big hands are a sign of big…. Other things, as you know.

Saving the best or last are his eyes! Contrasting with his dark hair and lighter skin the have a ring of dark dark sapphire on the outside, with rings of other shades of blue on the inside of the darkest blue ring getting lighter until it's a mere baby blue on the inside.

I could swim in those irises, so beautiful that they could seduce a guy who was assured that his sexuality was strongly straight into being gay and going completely gaga for Chase.

The best thing about Chase? He was completely ignorant of my existence and totally caught up in his relationship with his hot head cheerleader girlfriend.

My life sucks.

AUTHOR'S NOTE TIME: So, I know that this seems to have absolutely nothing to do with the first part but in the end, I promise it will! My chapters are shorter, sorry but I like writing in short intervals to clear my mind whenever I am stressed. I also update sporadically depending on the turns my life takes; for example I'm spending a month with no internet connection this summer, but I will try my best to update.

Wow this chapter is really short, but it's hard to write with absolutely no point other than to prove a point later that I can't reveal right now because I don't want to ruin this for you! Especially since I have absolutely nothing in common with this character, who I need a name for. Any suggestions?

Later guys and please review,

3 Hannah Banana!