A Whole New World

*A/N: I have to give credit for my friend, writeratheart12, for giving me the inspiration for this story. I got an idea from her, and I took it running, and it went a sort of different direction*

I've always known I was different, ever since I could remember. I didn't have a life like a normal girl—I wasn't even adopted, like one would think. My parents are similar —dark black hair, perfect vision, dark brown eyes, and tan skin. I on the other hand, have curly bright red hair, pale skin, and green eyes. Everybody labels me as adopted, but that isn't the case. Lisa, my second mother, told me that my mom and dad died in a car crash when I was very young, and that in their will I was left to Lisa. And that, Lisa said, is the best gift she has ever received, even if it came out of a terrible event.

It's not like I have even thought I was normal. I have known I was different. But the problem is I don't know how. I know that I'm not a normal person, I have two friends, and that's it. I'm fairly antisocial, because of a couple of my…mental issues. I don't think I'm very crazy, but I have been told a few times that I have some issues because sometimes I will just randomly start saying something I'm not even a little in control of. No, I don't mean that I say exactly what I think—it's worse. I don't even think it, it just…happens. I say crazy things and apparently I can do crazy things….But more on that later.

I woke up late the morning everything went down. I got up with 20 minutes to get ready, and no time to eat. I had to skip breakfast, and just run. I put on a pale pink off the shoulder top, and beige tight capris. I didn't have time to do my hair; it had to be its normal, messy yet wavy at the same time self. I put on mascara and lipstick and ran out the door. I jumped on my bike and biked all the way to school. I was afraid my hair would become a mess, but every time that happened my hair just would go back into place. It's one of those things that make me not normal, but Lisa just says I have good hair. I don't believe her.

I locked my bike, and then ran inside. I went into the school building, then to my first class of the day. In middle school, you have 7 classes in one day. My first class is math. I forgot to go to my locker, and ran from the cheery crisp white and red hallway in the front to the dingy 'naturally colored' beige and maroon in the back hallways. My math class is back in the original building made back in 1980. I don't like it back there, it smells funny and it is not the same nice colors as the front of the new section of the building. The floor was unwaxed, and dirty. You could see standing dirt. I finally got to math class, and my teacher left a note on my desk. "Meet me after class" was scrawled on a scrap of paper left on top of my desk. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the train wreck about to happen.

"Hi honey. I'm sorry to keep you, but I would like to speak with your mom," Mrs. Lemon sweetly stated.

"Do you mean Lisa?" I asked in response. I get bitter when people call Lisa my mom, because she isn't my mom….She's just Lisa.

"Yes, Lisa. Well I will try to get her to come after school, so please come by after school and I'll talk to you both. It's rather important. While you are at it, just do your best on the homework; don't feel required to do it all."

I left with that. I decided I had a lot to ponder about what she wants to tell Lisa and I, and I'm not quite sure I'm ready for what I'm about to hear.