Chapter one

    ""My friends. The few people I know I have. Most people say my friends are not there. Or a few ask if I am alright. I always answer with okay. Some laugh. Most say they are nothing. My friends are nothing but the air filling my head. They all call me crazy. I hate being called that. Crazy. Insane. What does being insane even mean? To make sense all of the time would make me go crazy. Stuff like this makes my friends very mad. Naturally when they get mad they tend to become infuriated, they have never been just mad. They have always been either calm or so mad they don't know what to do with themselves or anybody else, and if they pent up their anger for long enough it often causes a flood of emotions and blood on my hands. 

There was this kid once, they (they being my friends) didn't like her very much. Brooke was her name. She was very cruel to me, I guess I could consider it cruel. Her and her "crew" like to use me as a punching bag. I don't think she was a boxer and I should be happy that she wasn't. They took my folders and beat me with them. They left bruises everywhere. It is not like my parents really cared enough to stop them though. They would take my books smack and me on the head with them, With the spine of them, and to destroy the evidence they would tear out every page. Sometimes they would keep the pages and stick it in my food or drinks. They would burn them, wash them, write in them, shove them down the back of my shirt, they would even ask the boys to, well, relieve their urine on them. My books meant everything to me. Every page helps me see all reality more clearly. However that was the way they punished me and my stuff. My friends couldn't stand it.

It was a Friday in September. I hadn't seen my friends since the day before yesterday. I missed them very much. I waited by my locker. Locker 767. I always waited there. (They would "punish" me much more if they had to search for me.) I waited and waited, but they never came. Next monday nothing. Tuesday, Wednesday, nothing happened to me. 

On Thursday I saw some of her "crew ". Of course I wasn't so stupid as to talk to them but  I still wondered why they never hurt me. I never figured out why when they see me, they seem to be more  frightened than I was of them, but they also seemed angry with me. I would like to understand why. This happened with many more people. After a while everyone stopped talking to me. In class I would never raise my hand, however I would still get called on. Now I never get called on. No one comes close to me. I have become very much alone. And it sometimes hurts more than being surrounded did.

My friends did however, come back a week after Brooke left, but they still leave sometimes. I have become so alone. At school at least. I wonder where they go. 

More kids have gone missing besides Brooke. All of the kids that have gone missing are the ones that always enjoyed messing with my head and my things. All of them, were like Brooke. Every last one of them. Though some were much worse. Even my older sister has gone missing. I kinda miss her. We would fight a lot like all of the time, but somehow it was nice, perhaps because she kept me company when I needed it. Perhaps because she was so annoying she stopped me from thinking about certain things. Maybe because she was the only one who ever tried to protect me from mother. She was even willing to go through hell for me. But that was because of father." Sir could I stop reading?" I looked up from my paper towards the audience I had been reading to, or just my teacher. I began to read my teachers face. He looked very vexed, and almost kind of upset. Not like a child upset. No, he didn't look like he was about to throw a fit. He looked more disappointed in what words he just heard come from my mouth. He didn't say a thing. Just looked down. Was that a bad thing for me to ask?

"Um, sir?" I said softly, hoping he could hear me just enough to stop staring down, admiring his desk. He stared for a little longer until someone else clapped. His eyes shot up at me. Almost surprised there were other people in the room with him. I am pretty sure he heard the clap.

"Sorry," he said, glancing up to face me, but only for a moment he looked everywhere but at me. Or any of the other students, instead he looked on the walls. "It is only I don't understand why you want to stop reading. It sounded so good so far. I would love to read this at home or on a trip not just as an assignment." That is what all we'll call this thing. An assignment. "I don't think you have even read a full page yet."

Please, if you would just shut up and let me sit down, it would be great. I think you understand very well why I want to sit down. After all this is your class. If you will only look up at them once and a while, they all look like they are ready for a nap. Or ready to slip into a coma. Okay we have already lost some of them to the power of a coma, but that is just proves my point that I should stop reading. I could already feel my heartbeat quickening. I felt it throbbing through my veins. He knows I hate being asked questions in front of everyone. I can already feel people staring at me. And their eyes burn my flesh. 

"I didn't, no. The reason is, I seem to be putting everyone to sleep. We both know they all hate my "stories" anyway" I guestered around the room to the other students. I think I had everyone's attention (Well I caught the attention of those who were awake.) because some people were glancing around the room, and others were just looking at me or the teacher. And could hear a soft voice somewhere behind me. The voice said, "not everyone." I wonder what could mean. I looked back and no one looked like they spoke a word. I looked back in front of me. The boy in front me. Maybe I could ask him what he meant by that? Nah. I have spoken to him before.  It was lovely and awkward. He probably didn't want me to hear that anyway.

"Alright, sit down." When I sat down he looked his paper up and down to see who would read their "masterpiece" next. I don't think he will find any masterpieces in this classroom. He looked up he asked for Jacob to go next. However, no one said, or did anything. He said is name again still nothing.

"Jacob! Jacob make this easier and answer me the chart it says you have been here all week. And the chart doesn't lie, for it does not have the ability to speak!" And yet no one bothers to answer him. He searched the room looking us all down. However I and everyone else here knew why there is not a sound coming from anyone's mouth. He is asleep. I happened to sit next to Jacob, so I could always wake him up being the one good student and to give him away, but it might be more fun to just let the teacher find out himself. It is his job anyways to make sure everyones doing their job. At least I think it is part of his job.

    The whole room was silent till someone from the back said, "Jacob fell asleep again." How could they even see Jacob? And why did they have to tell the teacher? He does it often enough that the teacher should have just guessed. Jacob loves to sleep, I think it might be something to do with his head. Maybe he is always sick and we just can't really tell? I mean none of us are doctors.  Or maybe he is somewhat just mentaly ill.

    "Of course he fell asleep during Ashleens story" another person said, "Her stories have always been super boring, you could say they are a absolute snooze fest." An. Not a an. I heard some people try to force a laugh. I Kind of feel bad for whoever said that. He got no credit for trying something that may have sounded funny in his or her head, even though it was definitely not worth a laugh from anyone outside of his head.  

    Look, I know I am not the best writer, but sometimes I wish they would just back off. It isn't like I try to be the best. Well, I try to be good. Good enough to make it through this class I guess. And I wish to somewhat meet some of their expectations. But I don't have to meet all of them. 

Sorry, I never told anyone who might be reading this what the heck is going on. To make things clear, I have no self esteem when it comes to the things I do. That means I don't believe I am good or even average at anything. However I still act like I don't try to do anything, ever. It throws people off. You may hear me talk bad about myself a lot, sorry if I do it a little too often. You might get used to it.

     I haven't even given you my name. It's Ashleen. Please, try your best to hold in the laugh drawing up your throat. Right now we're in English class. I do try to write stores, however I am not very good. This is my best class. We all had an assignment to write a story. It was given to us about two weeks ago. This was like the best project in the history of projects! We could write about whatever we wanted. (as long as it was somewhat school appropriate. He let us stretch the rules a bit. ) The story had to be at least fifty pages long. It could be any higher than that. If you were willing to write thousands of pages you could. Most people, I assume, haven't even written five pages. And this is me trying to be considerate towards them.

    I forgot to tell you what I am doing. I am sort of writing in a diary, thing. I was told to do this so I don't drift off as much in and out in class. Just wanted you to know. This is also a way to not my work. Everyone thinks that all I do is work, so no one is questioning why I am writing all of this down. 

"Guys, guys," someone spoke. His voice was clear, loud and sounded vaguely familiar in my head at least. I couldn't place my thoughts on who it was exactly, but for a reason my body refused to turn around. My eyes didn't want to look at the face that is still unknown to them. "Come on. We already knew Ash's stories are nothing worth listening to. We should already know her "stories" are just some pathetic waste of time. This is, I think, Jacobs fault. I mean he is always sleeping in class anyways. I think we should all know not to listen to her or her stories by now." This guy thinks much of what I think. Oh. I can tell you who this is. This boy. This boy who thinks he is all that, and always right, is Alan. Oh he is just the best person you will ever meet, if you are a "cool kid". 

Alan could probably get anything you want. Even just maybe a date to the prom. Heck, he is the guy you should want to take you to prom if you are a normal high school girl that is. Honestly if I was more normal I would be all over people like him, even getting to sit in front of him is a huge honor for many people. Not for me though. Considering my social stadius it would be good for me to like him, or go on a date with him at least once. (I am starting to gag at the thought.) I am pretty sure he has his own fanclub where all of the members basically act as his slaves. Or his "examples" as Alan and his "friends" put it. Anyways, he got the other kids to laugh. A stupid joke to me, but funny to other people. And he stood up tall quite proud of himself for trying to torture me.

Alan is an absolute jerk. Not to all people, but to most people. Alan is someone of whom I have to take my mind off of often. I even had to put from my mind just two periods ago. Just two. He finds his joy in messing with me. Mostly because he used to know me.

When you heard my story from the beginning, about the girl got messed with the people who were messing with her went missing. Maybe you noticed, but it was nothing was ever her fault. She didn't do anything the entire time. She didn't try to fix it and she didn't make anything worse. She was just there in her own story. She was unclear of what was happening too. The reason I wrote a story about a little girl like her, with friends who did this for her, and will do anything for her is because I want to be her. Not like her. I want to be her. I do want the people who make toy what me gone. Not because they are super mean to me or anything. It is because they are just huge wastes of space. All they do here is mess everything up. For my and my "people". (I think. I don't mean to call them mine!) However I don't want to get rid of them. I want someone else to. It is like I want someone else to deal with my problems. All of them. I know this all seems very childish, but I don't know how much longer I can deal with some of them. This does explain why I didn't know who he was sooner though. I have been trying to put him from my mind, but I see now my efforts have failed me. Like they always do. 

    "Maybe he didn't remember. In that case it would be your fault Ashleen. I guess I will cut him some slack. I mean I sit right behind her and the only reason I am not asleep is because I was thinking about Sage and how she would be in a deep sleep because of her. It made me laugh to think the party girl who never sleeps would fall asleep because of you Ash." Alan said.

    The others were now staring at me. I hate it when he does this. When they all do this. He knows I hate being stared at. He knows many things about me. And he doesn't care. Why can't he just ignore me like most people do? Or better yet since we aren't friends anymore why can't he just treat me like I am invisible?  I heard some of the girls in the back giggle, I heard some of the guys chuckle. I was turning red I knew I was. I could feel my face burning up. This is just fantastic. A girl with super pale skin having a red face. No one enjoys seeing that. However it is a good laugh for some people to see go red. They were all laughing, and they were all staring. Staring at me. Their eyes. They burn. Their eyes burn my skin. I feel like my skin is slowly melting and running down my back. I wish I could tear their eyes out of their sockets. I wish they would all leave me alone. I have never really bothered them why should they bother me. Isn't there a quote that says do good and good will come to you. So if you act badly shouldn't horrid things happen to you? Why has nothing happened to them yet? I would be more than happy to help whatever god there is come up with some punishments for these hellish people.

     This is a fear of mine. I have always had it so no traumatic experience story thing, sorry. I have been the same way since I was born. Though that day was a huge mistake. My mother knows that. My father, well, I guess he could see the future since he left before I arrived. Sorry you didn't need to know that. I will watch what I say a bit more. 

    "Come one. You guys think this is fun? Picking on someone for actually trying. I could always announce your grades to the whole class." That seemed to grab their attention. Also "actually trying" what are you implying? "Let's start with Alan shall we." Mr. Candlit got on his phone and started to search. If I had to guess this could be really funny. He started smirking and laughing a little as he looked at our grades. He looked at Alan then back down to his phone. "So Alan you have a-"

    "Look they don't have to know. My grades okay." Alan said this very quickly. He himself must be dissapointed. How fun.

    "Most of you that were laughing have D's and U's. Very few have C's. Disappointing. Ash is one of the two that have A's in my class." Our teacher said. "Here I will just say this for Alan. You may get a C in my class if you get really lucky. Maybe if you come across a Genie and he or she says you have three wishes, then you may ask them for a high grade. But I don't think that is going to happen." He'd finished saying.

    "Did you really have to do that?" Alan moned. Some people laughed at him.

    Alan sat down behind me and whispered to me, "You will pay for this Ash. We both know you are not that strong. We also know I am stronger than you in almost every way. If you didn't know that it might do you some good to ask the girl in the back of the class. You know the one who always comes to school with bruises, and red marks. I could make you look like that. I could run my knife down the pretty pale skin of yours. I could cut your beautiful silky hair. I know how much you love it." I could feel his fingers run through my hair. What is he doing? Is he seriously threatening me? Pathetic. It is almost like he wants me to surrender to him. But then he tugged at my hair drawing my head back. "Don't worry I won't hurt any part of you. Or at least your shape. I may through draw my blade through-"

     "Alan, let go of her hair. That clearly must hurt. And you most likely haven't listened to anything I have said." Mr. Candlit said cutting him off.

    "Well, there's a thing called, repeat it. Maybe you could try it out." Alan said while letting go of my hair.

    "I will but for Ashleens sake not yours. So we all already know what to do when someone falls asleep during class. We use their fear. So everyone get out a book or something hard and thick." He was smiling when he said this. I know what is happening. He walked very lightly over to the empty desk in front of me. Then he got up and stood on the chair. But then he did something I don't exactly like. He looked at my tower of books. I always bring at least three books to school. His eyes rose to meet mine. Don't ask it!

   "I hate to be a bother Ashleen but could I borrow that bottom book of yours?" He asked.

   "Yeah,  sure" I  replied. The  bottom book, that  is my thickest book.  He does plan on doing  it, huh? Alright whatever,  let's get this over with. 

    I  handed  him the  book and told  him to be careful  with it. He said he  would try to. He got  up from the chair onto the  desk itself. The other kids started  doing it to. Standing up, standing on  there chairs. All that fun stuff. Most people  grabbed the harder covered books since they made  more noise. 

   "On  my count  everyone will  drop their books.  Got it?"

    The  kids said  yes in a soft  voice. They all lifted  their books as high as they  could. The teacher kinda reminded  me of Rafiki in the movie Lion King.  Remember the scene where he held up Simba  to the crowd of animals. That is what everyone  looked like!

    "Everyone,  one, two, three.  Drop!" He yelled. Then  almost everyone dropped it  at the same time. When the  books hit the floor it sounded  like thunder smacking. It kind of  hurt my head. However it worked. Jacob  shoot up from his sleep almost immediately.  His skin was white. He looked as if he had  just gone through hell. He was starting to sweat  all over. For some reason he looked at the only sane  person sitting down for answers. Me. I just shrugged as  my response. He looked back to the teacher It seemed to  have worked. 

    When the others sat down laughing their heads off they asked Alan why he was sitting down. I wish I knew what his answer was but I couldn't hear him over the other howling kids. Yes, this was just great. Finally the teacher tried calming us down. It worked for some others had to be forced. After the kids settled down the bell rang. The sound made my head ring, but I have gotten used to it. The worst way I can get attacked is by the sound waves. They love hurting me, in any way they can. 

    Everyone started rushing out of the room, of course. They would. This is the last period of the day. We all get to go home, no wonder they want to run over each other just to see the exit. And as always I am in no rush. I never want to go home, but I don't want to stay here either. Why isn't Alan moving? Why is he just sitting there looking at me. I slowly got up to leave. I picked up my stuff and walked to the door. Everyone is rushing to get out. I know if I step out there now I will get run over. Even the teacher had left. Wait that would mean I am in the room alone with Alan. Not good, he said he was going to make me pay. The only thing right now worth wondering is in what way?

    "Hey Ash." Alan said. I didn't answer. "Ash, I know you hear me! Just answer!"

     I sighed and turned around "What do you need now?" I said

     He slowly got up from his seat. A debate started in my head. Should I stay here and wait for him to do something or should I take the risk of leaving with foot marks on my face, again? I want to stay here. I want to see what he will do. I hate it, but I am way too curious for my own good. He was super close now. I looked away, fearing him, and people outside of this room. I felt his thin bony hands on my waist. Moving up and down slowly. I think, no, he wouldn't. He would. He can be a pervert, though most find it flattering. I think he is feeling my body just to know what type of figureI have. That would give him even more to talk about to his friends. Should I leave? Or should I stay? He and his group might hurt me more tomorrow if I leave now. Though, his group members aren't here now. 

       Why is he not speaking?

      "Don't you have a girlfriend or eight to get to?" I said to break the quiet he created.

      "I might," he said. "What about her?"

      "Ohh! So you only have one? That is good to know. Wouldn't want me to know about your side chicks I guess." I made sure I had a firm voice when I said this so he would be a little less tempted to punch (knowing I might punch back).

     "Yes I only have one." he sounded offended. "Who the hell do you think I am?"

      I knew  had to be careful answering this question. He is so sensitive. I turned around and faced him. 

     "I think you are the guy in charge of a certain group that likes to hurt people like me. But other than that I have absolutely no clue who you are. Sorry. I know you wish someone would tell you." I said. Then I walked away towards the stampede hurling out the exit door. The bulls shoved me against the lockers, the walls, other people, and some tried to push me to the floor. They all failed.

    I got closer to the door thankfully. 

It was hard to see, but I saw Oliver across the courtyard waiting at the gate to leave. I wonder what he is waiting for? I also wonder where Jake is. He should be out by now. I am way too curious for anyone's good. So, why don't I walk over to him and ask. I started to make my way across the yard. Trying to mind other people, but its hard when people don't care much about your existence. I made my way across the yard after a while. Oliver saw me and waved for me to come over, and well, since I was already planning to, I did. 

    "Sup Ash!" he said smiling. Glad to know someone likes me here.

    "I just became Alans next big target I think. That should be fun." I said looking him dead in the eyes. 

    "Ash." He said strongly.

    "Yeah what is it?" I asked . Then he grabbed my shoulders, and held them tightly. 

    "If he even gets close to touching you, you will tell me. And I will kill him. We both know if I can't get to him Jake or Rose with bring their pocket knives and deal with him themselves. You know they will. They really don't care about jail when it comes to you. Neither do I." 

    "Okay, chill. I don't want you all going to jail. Either way it doesn't matter that much." I shrugged my shoulders. 

    "Ash, seriously? Sometimes you can be so stupid." He removed his hands from my shoulders.  "You made ours lives better by bringing us all together. No one was willing to be a real friend to me till you brought me into your little group. I am willing to do anything to help you all." He said then bowed. 

    "Dude, why the bow? I'm no royal. I don't have any money at that!"

    "I don't care." he said. He searched the crowd around us. Looking for jake I assumed. "Oh look who decided to show up, mister late!" Oliver was looking somewhere behind me. I turned around to see Jake jogging up to us. It was a weird sight to see. Kinda like seeing a jock run but his facial expression gave off the vibe that he was just dilly-dallying. Unsettling, sort of. 

    "Look, I'm sorry I am late, but I wanted to finish up something. Hey Ashleen. I don't see you often anymore. What's up with that?" Jake said and asked as he walked up next to me.

    "Hi mister miserable. What was that "something" you left us for ?" I asked, smiling at him.

    "I am not telling you." He said looking away towards the clouds acting like a mativous child.

    "You know you looking away doesn't do much when you're tall enough all you need to do is look straight." I said acting smarter than him.

    "Yeah, yeah I know. But I will take being taller than you over me not being able to look away." He said looking down at me. He was arching his back forward to seem taller than he really was. Though he was quite tall.

    "I don't think that makes any sense. And I am not that short!"

    "Yeah, your pretty short compared to me." He laughed a little at me too. Butt head. "Also, aren't you sweating in that, I know it is cold but is it really THAT cold?" He asked.

    "You mean because I am wearing all black? And because I am and always have shown no skin. Or is it how I am wearing more layers than the skin off of a human?  My body had gotten use to it. So to answer your question, I am not sweating. In fact, I think this is great wear for fall. Sorry if what I am wearing is not pleasing to your eye." I said moving Sassing his ear off.

"You two. Are we going to leave yet? You thought we were going to check up on Rose." Oliver finally said, glancing at the both of us.

"Yeah, yeah. We should. She would hurt me if we came two minutes late." I said.