Life. It's funny, if you think about it. The tricks it plays on your mind, the clever ways in which it makes you believe that nothing you're seeing is real. Its funny how one thing, one person, can make such a substantial change on your life that you find yourself with an unbreakable bond that only death can part. Maybe, it's that someone. That someone who just waits for that one moment when you're off guard to jump in and throw your life around. It's funny, how to the world you may be just one person, but to one person you just might be the world.
Like many stories, mine starts on a sunny school day. Well, actually it was a complete downpour outside. And it was actually mid-march, which means lots of chilling rain and wind here in Michigan. I've just always wanted to start it with a happy beginning, because the ending is not one of those happy endings we all know and enjoy. Those don't exist in real life. I knew something was different, from the moment my alarm clock screeched its way into my hazy sleep and pulled me out of my dream. I felt that feeling you get when you go down the drops on a roller coaster. You know that pit in your stomach, right? That's exactly what it felt like.
It was the first week of school, the second day if we need to be precise. Let's just say that some kids were insensitive about what came out of their dumb mouths. They decided they were superior, with their spiky hair and their pants sagging to show off their underwear. Many people were insensitive about what they say. If they had only been kinder, none of this may have happened. But history cannot re-write itself, so I'm just going to tell it how it is.
The door creaked slightly as I opened the classroom door; just like all of the other doors in this school did. I was sixteen years old, so I was starting my junior year at Chippewa Valley High School. Upon falling lazily into my chair, my eye caught a small, short girl, who looked like she was maybe a year younger than me. She must have skipped a grade or two. I'm not sure exactly what made my head turn. Maybe it was her striking black hair, or her silvery skin that shone like moonlight. Or maybe it was the idiotic students swarming around her like a bunch of moths do on a wool sweater.
This was not unusual in my school. We were known for being a school that bullies flocked to. Anyone smaller or quieter than them was deemed as targets. But it was something that I just don't stand for. My seat flew out behind me and before I knew it I had stepped between the bully and the young girl.
"Eh! Lookit ginger over 'ere!" one of them called out. He got several encouraging words and applause. I have pale skin, strawberry blonde hair, and freckles that overtook my face completely. Oh yes, I was a target as well. I wouldn't spare my words to him, just brushed him aside and took hold of the girls arm. I found myself leading her to the seat in front of me; I wanted to keep a close watch to be sure she would be fine. I sat her down, and as I did, I noticed a slight smirk cross her face.
"You're...not like the others...I can see it in your eyes." her voice was as smooth as satin, laced with an air of mystery. As a shiver ran up my spine, I froze. She placed a hand on my shoulder, and it felt as cold as a harsh winter we get here up in Michigan. "I'm Erin." I nodded to her, and shook her hand awkwardly. "Um, I'm Ivy Anne." She laughed. It seemed that she turned from somebody mysterious and frightening to someone you just knew was going to be your friend.
"Ivy Anne what," she asked me.
"Nothing, it's just Ivy Anne."
"Hey, I'm having a sort of party. Are you doing anything tonight between the hours of 5:30 P.M. and 10:00 A.M.?"
I shook my head, in a dazed shock. This was the first sleepover I've ever been invited to! She scrawled down her address on my hand, and I thanked her. I inspected it, her handwriting thin cursive that gave off the impression of a spider web. Snickers sounded behind me; the bullies, of course. "Eh, Ginger! Why ya' talkin' to yerself!? Your imaginary friend left? Dumbass!" They shouted. Talking to myself? I wasn't talking to myself.
"I'm not..." but as I turned my head to see Erin, she had suddenly disappeared from her seat. Not a trace of her, everything was gone. But she had been there five seconds ago; surely I would have heard something. The door would have creaked, right? My eyes flew downward and gazed upon the blue, spidery ink that wove its way across the back of my hand. Erin's address. Looks like I was going to a party.