Chapter 1

My eyesight went to hell; without my glasses, I'm legally blind. I have no friends, and people think I'm weird—not that I care. My mom has mostly stopped crying, though she still tears up now and then, just not as much as before.

I'm single as a potato. It's not like I'm waiting for the love of my life—it's just that only unattractive guys seem to look my way. That got me wondering: am I ugly? Whatever.

I don't react much to things and have what some might call psychopathic tendencies. Add extreme ADHD to the mix, and I'll do anything to keep myself entertained. That's why I have to go to therapy every two weeks—school-mandated, of course. I used to go more often, but thankfully, they've scaled it back. I hate every second of it. My therapist—whose name I can never seem to remember despite how often I see her—always has her hair in a painfully tight bun. Her overly sweet voice and expressionless face irritate me to no end.

I'm in my senior year of high school, ranked fifth out of the top ten in my class. I could aim higher, but why bother? Higher ranks bring expectations, and people already don't like me. I've been unfairly lumped in with the "nerds" just for using my brain, at least according to the dumber population of the school.

Oh, and I joined the drama club.

Let me tell you why. Therapy is supposed to help determine if I'm stable enough to avoid the loony bin, but drama club? That's my loophole. Acting out emotions makes me feel alive—or at least, it's fun to pretend. Considering I already feel like I'm playing a character every day, it's natural. My therapist thinks it's helping, and I can even cry on command now, which has come in handy a lot.

If you're wondering, yes, I've been bullied before. Not the physical kind—no one's dumb enough to try that. It was mostly name-calling and insults, but it didn't last long. I think they gave up because I didn't react. It was all so pointless.

Now, let's talk about my lack of friends. It's not like people haven't tried. Plenty have started conversations with me, but my blank expressions tend to put them off. I guess it's hard to connect with someone who looks like they'd rather be anywhere else. I could have been popular by now if I cared enough to fake it.

That said, I do have one acquaintance—if you can even call her that. Bella. She's goth, always dressed in black with dark makeup, but somehow still manages to be pretty. She approached me one day, started talking, and now she does it regularly. She talks; I listen. That's the extent of it.

"Hey, you," Bella greeted, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Hmm?"

She smirked. "Did you hear about the murders?" Her voice was as dead as her vibe, but there was an odd excitement in her tone—well, as excited as she could sound.

"Murder?"

"Yeah. It's all over the news. Three scumbags were killed. I guess karma finally clocked in." She smiled briefly, a rare sight, before returning to her usual neutral expression.

"You sound way too happy about that," I said, shutting my locker.

"Well, duh. It's death."

The bell rang, and Bella looked like she was ready to leave. "Anyway, gotta get to class. See ya!" And just like that, she was gone. Honestly, I still don't understand why she talks to me.

I decided to skip class. I wasn't in the mood. Instead, I went to the library to research the murders. Turns out Bella wasn't lying—three shady-looking guys had been killed. Who killed them? And did they do it all at once?

Eventually, I got bored and regretted skipping. I finished my homework, played some Candy Crush, and waited for the bell.

When it rang, I packed up and headed to the nurse's office for an excuse. I went with the classic: period cramps. Armed with my pass, I went to math, handed it to my teacher, and asked for the notes and homework I missed. Then I got another pass for biology.

In biology, I walked in with an apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm late," I said, handing over the pass.

You don't have to say it—I already know.

I'm awesome.

Unfortunately, I share a lot of classes with Bella.

"Why weren't you in class?" she asked as soon as I sat down.

"Period cramps," I lied effortlessly.

"You're lying. You're not even on your period."

Creepy.

"Whatever you say." I turned my attention to the teacher, ignoring her.

The lesson was painfully slow, and I barely paid attention. When it was finally over, I headed to lunch.

Unlike some people, I eat in the cafeteria—not the library, and definitely not the bathroom. As I stood in line for food, Bella appeared again, taking a tray and standing beside me.

"Can't eat lunch with you today. Some of us actually have friends," she teased.

"I don't remember asking," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

Once I got my food, I hurried away from her and ate alone—just how I like it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of boredom, skipped lectures, and general laziness. By the time school was over, I'd somehow survived without trying too hard.