Dear, whoever that’s reading this shitty notebook with a confused look on their face,

     There are things that we actually consider supernatural. Not the Oh, there a ghost in the hallway kind of supernatural, but the Okay, what the heck was that kind of supernatural. Couldn't tell the difference? That's normal, because human minds can't handle things like that.

     But I’m different. And I meant this in a bad way. I’m so different that people don't see me as human anymore, but a weird, anti-social, let me summon the devil kind of being.

     I’ll trade everything in this world to know if there are other like me. Not the let me summon the devil kind of people, but the kind of people where one day, they learned that they can do unbelievable things with just their mind. You’d think I’m lying, but I’m not. I’m actually writing this in my diary right now, hoping that someone can find it and read it and say “Oh, she’s like me. Let's see if we can hang out later.”

     Just, if ever you’re reading this, and you realize this kind of thing. Go to the next town over immediately—Wadenhills—and never come back to Ravenwood. There are so many things I need to tell you, and I can’t write my whole life in this diary because it would be a novel. And oh, I'm being hunted.

     It’s a long story, and don’t ask why I’m being chased.

     If you find this piece of notebook with random stickers, your life isn’t normal. Don’t ask why. It just is. Go to my locker, if you’re like me, you’ll know where it is and you’ll know the pin. If you don’t then drop this diary and out them exactly where you found it. There are a bunch of things in there, things that can help you. Trust me on this. After you read this, pack up your stuff, say good bye to your world and I'll welcome you to my universe.

   That is, of course, if you’re not just picking up random books from lockers because that’s a low blow. Don’t tell me you did? How dare you? Put this back right where you got it. Right now. The last thing you want to be involved is these kind of things going on. You don’t want to know what secrets this town has, and guess what? If you put this back where it belongs to—which is my locker—you never will know and you will live a happy and stress-free life without ever knowing that there’s about to happen to all of you. Imagine living like that, knowing the secrets. Again, you don’t want that.

   Hold on, hold on, why are you still reading this? Do you really want to know what’s hidden behind the perfect image of this town has? You might not like it. No one does.

     With all the things that had happened to me, I didn’t have the slightest idea that I would consider this day as a bad day. First, my mother came telling at me early in the morning, drunk as ever. It’s not like I’m not used of her being drunk, what surprised and anger me was, she came back at the house after two weeks of being a ghost, probably hitting with some guys that she didn’t even know. The second and the last thing that already ruined my day was, I got to go school just because I need to catch up with my grades, face every-second humiliation, do everything to be hidden and not noticed and basically just being there.

     Now that I think of it, all the days in my life’s all bad as ever. Not that I don’t mind it, I was used with all the badness and my tendency to attract bad luck. It’s a family gift, my father would say. And I’m well damn sure that I didn’t need a gift, especially if it was from a family that doesn’t even exist now.

     “Awn,” said a purring voice. “Look at miss Skinny Toes, staring off into space again. Did mommy beat you up?”

      Gray eyes, intense look, lustrous lips, a smirk and a foxy appearance. Meet the most annoying person that ever existed. Ashe Fierro. I really don’t know why she always picks up some fights on me, and why does she always look hard at me like she’s ready to kill me every time, but one thing’s sure, I can never, ever fight back when it comes to her (at least physically.) Reasons are, she has the whole school by her side because she’s miss prim and perfect, but has a hidden rotten attitude. Her squad will beat me up, and if I did fight back, the blame would be put on me. The cliche things and thing-a-nots.

      She’s leaning by the locker, staring at me with an amused look with her arms crossed. I looked behind her, looking for her usual ugly and stupid minions that knows nothing but to say “ooh’s” and “ahh’s” whenever Ashe says something idiotic yet very insulting. It’s the language of idiocy, I thought.

      If this was a normal day, I’d get out of where I am, go to the bathroom and stay hang out in there, but this wasn’t a normal day.

     I closed my locker a little too hard and looked straight at her stormy, gray eyes. “That’s new,” I said, making raise her brow. “You don’t have your bitchy minions behind you, kissing your ***.”

     Her smirk widened.

     “What do you want from me, Ashe?” I asked, cutting her off. I gripped the books I was holding, readying for something I don’t even know what. “Why do you always do this?”

      She inched closer, making me step away a little. “Why?” She repeated in her low, purring voice. I fought the huge urge to slam my books on her face. She continued, whispering “It’s because I want to.”

      I grimaced, wishing that this wasn’t happening at all. Whenever Ashe and I ‘talk’ with each other, everything just goes wrong, and end in a very, very bad way. My bad luck and her just seemed to really get along with each other. It’s one of the reasons why I try my best to avoid her, and today, I failed, just because I was thinking about how damned my life was.

      Her trip for today was a the other type of her usual teasing and bullying. Usually, she’ll literally kick your butt, insult you if you stay on the ground, face-down, for three seconds and wound your being by insulting you about your personal issues. This time, she doesn’t do any of that, she’ll just stand there in front of you, get under your skin, wait for you to burst out and get you to detention just like that. It happened to me when once, I tried to take her on. And I’m not going to fall for this again.

     “Well, too bad,” I said. “because I don’t want to. Go away, Fierro.”

      If Ashe’s minions are behind her, they’d probably taunt Ashe because of what I said, and actually, they’re really the reason why I and Ashe just end up wrongly or something. For a moment, I thought that she’ll go into a full-bitch mode and do the things she always do—attack you, hit you or simply say something that can destroy your will to live, but then, she just looked at me like I became more amusing.

      “That’s cute.” She said, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Unfortunately, you can’t go all macho on me, especially when your annoying knight in rusted armor isn’t around.”

     George’s face came into my mind. His one-sided smile, and his subtle dimples. His bright, blue eyes that always looked cheerful and playful, but he expression being the complete opposite of it. His little cute curls that was always messed up, hanging around his face. The thought of him made me forget about how annoying and taunting Ashe is. He would always tell me to just ignore Ashe as much as I could, turn and walk away. He wasn’t really my friend, he’s just one of those people that didn’t care if you’re famous, weird or simply just lame. He treats everyone friendly, and it just always happen that whenever Ashe is around, preying on me, he’d appear out of nowhere and drag away.

      In front of me, Ashe groaned and rolled her stormy, gray eyes. I don’t know why, but she was scowling. “Can you please stop getting all dreamy and spacey when you’re talking to me?” She said in a biting tone.

      I raised an eyebrow at her, a subtle question of why do you care, anyway? And then didn’t say anything. “What?” I asked.

     She huffed. “Keep your eyes on me.” She said, glaring at me. I couldn’t believe my ears, and I was taken a back. “It makes everything so boring when you can’t even hear what I’m saying.”

      “Well, isn’t that better?”

      We all spun around to see George. He’s here again. He was looking at me and Ashe intently, the usual bright look in his eyes gone. I couldn’t help but to smile because I know that this talk with Ashe will be put to an end. Seriously, whenever Ashe and I ‘talk’ it just never ends, especially when she’s getting under my skin so much, I couldn’t help but to reply some biting words.

       George looked at me expectantly, and even if we never really talk that much, I knew what he was saying. Get away here now. But before I did, Ashe grabbed my forearm and gripped it like she was choking my neck instead. She was smirking at me, and I never really know what’s inside her mind.

      “You’re not going anywhere, Skinny Toes.” She said to me, and when she turned to George, the smirk on her face vanished and was replaced with a scowl. “Fuck off, Matthews.”

      The look on George’s face hardened, and then joined the drama. He also grabbed my other arm, and tried to yank me away from Ashe. Great, I thought. Now, instead of dying of boredom or some tragedy, they’re going to rip me apart. Tired of them, I ripped my arms away from them, cursed under my breath and then tired to walk away like I always did. What the heck is wrong with them? Something’s weird with Ashe, and Matthew acted unusual. No one seemed to grabe back again, and that was a relief, not until Ashe decided to ruin what I’m feeling. Again.

       “Meet me after class, Skinny Toes.” Her purring voice said. “I will tell you something that will benefit you”

      I rolled my eyes. Ashe? Benefit me? That’s not really the words that get along that much together. That’s where I knew I was wrong.

       After some minutes, I found myself staring at a middle age woman with a very big, and cat-like red glasses, loose man suit, and a big wart hanging at the edge of her nose. It was Mrs. Apple, my teacher in history class and basically the principal of Ravenhigh. I don’t really get Mrs. Apple. About why she’s always wearing a loose suit, or why she was always rude and snappish at me. She’s nice to the whole school, except for me. Or about why she always brings up my parents whenever she and I talk. Like that one time when I was wasting some time at the girl’s bathroom, she literally kicked the door open and then came to me with a cruel smile.

      “Ah, Samirah Collins.” She said. “How are your parents?”

      Like okay, first of all, why aren’t she asking how I am? It’s not like my parents are the ones who’s working their *** in this goddamned school just to get some high degree and leave this town. But it looked like Mrs. Apple wasn’t that really interested about me so I just shrugged at her and said, “Dead.”

        “Samirah Collins!”

       All of my thoughts vanished like a puff of smoke when I saw Mrs. Apple right in front of my desk, a glare in her brown and cruel eyes. She’s holding her very famous stick which reminded me of those old-fashioned teachers that liked to slap students’ hand and butt whenever they’re not listening. And I swear, Mrs. Apples do that. But for me, she has a special treatment. I don’t get a slap to the hand or on the butt, I get detention automatically. Getting me to detention, asking me countless of weird question about my family, shaming me and all that stuff was Mrs. Apple’s hobby.

     I mean, it’s not like I’m surprised. Ninety percent of the  students and teachers here in Ravenwood High treats me weirdly. It’s either they specifically hate me or they’re just going with the flow to be famous. That’s how idiotic they are. But what can I do? Hormonical and attentiom-***** teenagers don’t really care.

      “You’re spacing out again.”

     Is the lesson at the ceiling?

     “Is the lesson of the ceiling?”

      Follow me after class. We have something to talk about.

       “Follow me after class. We have something to talk about.”

       And that, people, is the summary of my life. It’s either that or I’m really doomed. Sometimes, Mrs. Apple will just say ‘get out’ and that automatically means that I’m suspended for three days. Everyone knows that. It happened almost Everytime that I don’t even have to hear the exact words from her. She’ll just give me those cold and cruel eyes, hand me a paper (where I write my excuse for what I did, which was literally nothing) and then I’ll be stuck at my house for three fucking days.

      I know, it doesn’t even sound real. Heck, this shouldn’t be happening, but what can I do? Ravenwood is the only school where I can afford the fees. Or maybe, I’m just here because of the memory of my father. He always told me how Ravenwood became his standing ground, how the former principal treated him kindly, gave him what he needs. Pfft, and now, this is what’s happening to me. I wonder what he’ll say, or what he’ll do when he finds out that Ravenwood was like shit, and everything he expected just simply crashed..

       Beside me, a boy, who’s name I have no idea what, leaned beside me, his eyes on Mrs. Apple. “Good luck, Collins.” He said in a teasing tone, and then leaned back to his seat. Yes, unfortunately, that’s how meddling people are nowadays.

       But, unfortunately, I needed that good luck. Mrs. Apple wanted to talk to me later, but what about what Ashe said? I shook my head to myself. You actually believe Ashe? I said to myself. The thought of actually listening to Ashe was crazy. She’s never that kind of girl that you really should trust. She’s sly and full of mischief, and you really wouldn’t notice that because she has her own way to get inside someone’s mind and skin. She treats you nice, you better expect worst things. Like getting expelled of the school or something among those lines.

       My train of thoughts vanished when the class door busted open, the stinkiest human male on Earth. Gabe Gabrentine. Three words. Smelly, big jock. That probably sums up everything about him. I mean, if you don’t include his lust over Mrs. Apple then I’m basically right. I really don’t get why this stinky guy even had the guts to lust on Mrs. Apple. There’s this undying issue about him around the whole campus, which includes the video of him, jacking off with the picture of Mrs. Apple on his brand-new phone. Pretty crazy and disgusting, really. I expected him to be depressed or something, but after the day that video was released, he acted like a dude who just had his climax. He’s happy, and proud and all that.

       The whole class coughed, being aware of the relationship of Mrs. Apple and smelly Gabe. Gabe just waved at us, and winked at Mrs. Apple’s way. He’s late, but Mrs. Apple didn’t even say something and just crookedly smiled at his way. It made think got hose times whenever I see Mrs. Apple and Gabe talking discreetly, Mrs. Apple saying that Gabe should go to her office after campus hours. Who knows what they’re doing whenever Gabe’s at Apple’s office?

        The though made me want to puke so I kept my eyes off Gabe and Mrs. Apple, staring at the presentation in front of us. Anika Trinidad was stuttering over and over again, talking about Napoleon’s success and all that. As usual, no one’s interested. The other students are either using their phone discreetly, doodling on their notes or simply just doing the same as me, thinking about something else or simply just staring off into space. No one really cared about the lesson, even Mrs. Apple. She’s just looking at Gabe, giving him dirty looks, and that’s what Gabe was doing, too. Occasionally, she’ll look at me with a cruel smile that said, “You’re so fucked.” I mean, it’s not like I don’t know that. But after this, I really am fucked.

       The hours flew by, and the bell rang. Instantly, the other students got our of their seats, leaving some of their things on the table. I tried to flow with them, tried to drown myself with them so Mrs. Apple wouldn’t notice me or something, but the woman got the eye of a hawk. Before I could even get out of the door, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the crowd of students—which, by the way, didn’t cooperate by getting away from me. Lovely, I just love everything about this school.

      “Where do you think you’re going, Collins?” Mrs. Apple  asked with a cruel smile.

     “Uh, to your office, ma’am. So you know, you won’t need to deliver me there yourself.” I said then stifled a smile.

      “Very thoughtful… ” For one second, I thought she’s going to play along. Then a scowl appeared on her face. “And ridiculous. You’re not fooling me, girl. Come with me. Now.” And then she did that famous turn around with matching ignorant look of hers and left the class room.

       If I could, I would’ve let myself slump on the floor, hit my head and hopefully die. In that way, I can escape this hell hole, but no such thing would happen, so I decided to despair over the time I’d spent in Mrs. Apple’s office than being at my photography class, listening to Mr. Salvatore’s lessons about using shadows and light in the right way and all that. I’m supposed to submit my photo right now for the contest that Mr. Salvatore actually asked me to join, but then Mrs. Apple came in the way. Again.

      Cursing under my breath, I left the class room and headed towards Mrs. Apple’s office. Where I saw another student, leaning on the extra seat (my seat, actually, because I can bet that I came here hundred times doubled than those students) with a bored look on her face. I couldn’t really see her so much because she’s wearing a gray hoodie underneath a bomber jacket, her head hooded, but I’m sure I haven’t seen her before in Ravenwood. I kind of stopped at the doorway to give them a little privacy, but I figured I was still going to enter the office one way or another, so I entered, my shoes hitting the tiled-floor a little loud for them to turn my way.

     Mrs. Apple’s cruel smile doubled, while the girl in the brown hoodie groaned and lowered her head, muttering some things Mrs. Apple and I couldn’t understand.

     Mrs. Apple gestured for the other extra chair and said, “Sit with us, Collins.” And I did.

    The girl in front of me huffed and turned her lowered head to Mrs. Apple. “Can I leave?” She asked, and I immediately registered her cool voice into my brain.

    Mrs. Apple turned to her darkly, but still with a nightmarish smile. “All right. You can go ahead.”

     The girl stood up lazily, making me see her face for only seconds. She had dark, short hair, a frown on her face (that seemed permanent) and sleepy eyes. I was shocked when I saw her eyes. It was mismatched. The other one was the darkest shade of blue, while the other one was the palest  color of green. I forgot the term for that. She got this I want to sleeeeeep expression written all over her face. She had delicate, almost elfish and foxy features. She reminded me of this characters I’ve seen in fantasy movies, with their long bow stashed in their bag and occasionally killing some monsters with nothing but arrows.

     She stopped, looking at me through her thick lashes, then a scowl appeared on her face. She muttered under her breath again (I’m definitely sure it was followed by a biting curse) and left the office. As soon as she left the office, Mrs. Apple looked like she wanted to hire a hitman for the girl. But that’s not new, Mrs. Apple always looked like she wanted to murder someone, and that particular someone was me. Yep, I’m definitely feeling the love.

      Mrs. Apple turned to me, her lips turned upward. “Someone is here to talk to you.”

      Give me a box full of dead cockroaches, a plate full of  gold, a bullet under my flesh and all that, but those would be nothing compared to the shock that Mrs. Apple gave me. Every time, and I literally mean every time she would bring me in her office, she never forgot about how to get under my skin by asking weird questions like how my family was or something, even though she already knew what’s up with my family. It gave me a vague feeling that maybe, somehow, one of my parents knew her or something. But that’s not the point. And now, she’s telling me that someone wanted to talk to me. That’s refreshing. And shocking. And confusing.

     “Why would someone want to talk to me?” I asked, actually curious. Who would want to talk to a teenage girl that hangs out in comfort rooms for hours and sleep there?

     Mrs. Apple smile didn’t change. “You’ll know, girl.”

     And I did.

     Right after that, a man in his late-thirties entered Mrs. Apple’s office. One look and I knew this guy was some kind of an officer. Under his trench coat was a polo that reminded me of those detectives from the movies that I’ve seen, and more importantly, he wore a badge. Not to mention this unfriendly, cold and poker look in his face. Yep, I told myself. Totally an officer or something. He just stood there, his dark, brown eyes studying me. And then I realized that he’s the one that wanted to talk to me. Panic rose in my chest.

     Mrs. Apple stood from her swivel chair and approached the guy with her usual, cruel smile. “Detective Rowen, it’s nice to see you.” She was trying to make her  voice friendly. But Mrs. Apple and the world friendly didn’t really get along.

     Detective Rowen, or whoever he was supposed to be, just nodded at Mrs. Apple and said, “A pleasure, miss. The students?”

      The heck did that mean? So this Rowen guy wanted to talk to students or put them in jail? Students of Ravenwood wasn’t new with being jailed. They’re a bunch of a-holes that way. But still, panic rose in my chest. What does a detective got to do here?

     Mrs. Apple looked at me, her eyes glinting. “We have her first.” She said to Detective Rowen, and then she leaned  closer to his ear, whispering something. Probably an evil spell. “Please excuse me. I will get the students on the list.” 

    And then she left, leaving me with this strange guy (detective, whatever) named Blank Rowen. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I knew well about detectives, because for one, I like watching and reading those mystery novels and movies, but actually facing a detective was odd. Especially if that detective guy wanted to talk to you about you literally have no idea about. Life is fun.

     The Rowen guy  paced around the office like I wasn’t there, his eyes appraising everything he saw. Unlike the mystery novels I’ve read (example, Sherlock Holmes) where the detective guy literally put their faces on the wall, on the floor, sniff some substance and all, detective Rowen was very boring. Not that I wanted him to kiss the floor and wonder whose sole stepped on there, but that would be also fine.

     Finally, he noticed my existence, which sucked. “Miss Collins, aren’t you?” He asked in a rich voice, sitting in front of me like I’m up for some interrogation. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience but—”

      “It’s alright,” I mumbled. “Please do hurry up, though. I have music lessons.”

      He blinked at me. “Of course,” he said. “As a student of Ravenwood,  I suppose you have heard of the missing student, Diane Segui?”

      The picture of one person stashed across the school border flashed to me. Diane Segui. The missing student. Someone has been stashing posters of her all over Ravenwood to the point that everybody who’s living here knew about her. From what I’ve heard, she’s one of the famous students in Ravenwood, one of your cliche persons, just like Ashe Fierro. High grades, good looks and a high reputation. All is going well when last month, she just disappeared. She stopped going into classes and hanging out with her group of friends. Some say that her parents transferred her out and that seemed to reassure the other students, but just last week, a rumor started to spread around the campus that Diane Segui was dead, but still, her family is not giving up. Now this guy is searching for her.

      “Yes, I did.” I answered detective Rowen. “They said she’s dead.”

      Rowen guy stirred on his chair, straightening his coat. “I suppose we’ll find out.” He said. “I’ve been searching for clues since last week. Last day of July, that’s when her friends last saw her. They thought she ran away, but that would be unlikely for we found no trails of her. Also—”

       “Why are you telling me this? I interrupted. “Look, I know her, alright. Everybody does. Her posters are scattered around. But I have no idea about her since she disappeared.”

       “If you let me finish, you’ll understand.” Detective Rowen said. He’s looking at me intensely now, almost like he’s challenging me to interrupt again. I didn’t. “I asked some of the students about what happened that day. They said it was a school tradition? A party. They called it Red Wicke. Have you heard of it?”

       I wrinkled my nose in disgust the soon I’ve heard it that word. The depressing thing is, everything about Ravenwood was so cliche I wanted to puke. Nathan Hearth’s smug face flashed into my mind. He was the one who started that tradition, that at the end of every three months, he, his friends and other students who seemed cool will hold a pool party at the school’s swimming pool. It was illegal and certainly impossible, but Nathan was that rich brat that can literally do whatever he wants in the way of his daddy’s money. They basically own the school, too, so the idea wasn’t surprising. Whatever made Nathan think of that kind of thing? I have no idea, and I don’t think I wanted to know.

        Being a person like me can save you from teenage craziness. I have no idea of Red Wicke, but I’ve heard rumors about it. Turns out, it’s just like on of your old, typical teenage parties. Lots of beer, lots of hook-up, lots of people that wanted to lose their virginities. It’s basically all of the stupid in the world wrapped together.

       I feel like the world needed to end.

      I let our a little sigh, thinking of the things I should’ve done right now. “Should I?”

      His eyes squinted at me, obviously not appreciating my ignorance. “It was the last time where everyone saw Diane Segui.” He answered, which wasn’t surprising. “Tell me everything about it. You were there.”

       “Sir,” I couldn’t help but to give a short laugh. It’s either he was blind or just plain stupid. “You’ve got the wrong person.”

       Rowen grunted, his brows knitting together like stop pissing me off. Although he managed to keep his chill. “I wanted to talk to everyone who was on the party-list. That’s why I’m here. And your name was there.”

        “What?”

       “Someone saw you in that party, miss Collins. And they said that you were even talking to miss Segui herself. What do you know about her disappearance? Tell me everything. I need your cooperation.”

      As if my day couldn’t get any worse, that Rowen guy added. I decided that I hate detectives. I told him that I have no idea about what he’s talking about, but he kept pressing the topic. I told what I was doing that day—which was finishing my novel, talking random shits for the contest, and sleeping. Lots of sleeping—but he still pushed on whatever he believed in. No one told me that middle-aged detectives are graceless creatures. Our talk was going in circles when Mrs. Apple came back to the office with another student that I somehow managed to recognize. One of Diane’s friends, I thought. He must’ve been in the party list, too.

      “Detective Rowen.” Mrs. Apple said, and that’s enough to rip off Rowen’s attention from me. Afterward, I happily left Mrs. Apple’s office.

      I found myself unconsciously walking towards the field, right to the bleachers. Whenever I was thinking about something, I’d end up here, or at the comfort room or the library. Those are the three spots where I considered as the only peaceful spot for me in the entire Ravenwood. No one actually hung out under the bleachers, no one would take too long inside an unused comfort room and no one would literally go to the library. But today, I wasn’t so lucky.

      Right when I saw bulky bodies with black and yellow jerseys, I muttered to myself, “Yep. Life really is fun.”

      Sitting on the bleachers are Gabe Gabrentine and his other smelly friends. There’s no practice today, and they got no reason to be in here. Like you, my brain thought. And yet you’re still here. They saw me, which was pretty bad. Of course, I turned around and thought of the other spots where I could hang out, but two large hands gripped my shoulder and turned me around again. In front of me was one of Gabe Gabrentine’s friends, Julius Hearth. Nathan’s brother. Chick boy. Asshole.

      He wasn’t grinning at me like a good and said, “Hey, Skinny Toes! Why don’t you hang with us for a while, huh?”

      Why don’t you hang with us for a while, huh?: Dangerous.

      “No, not really,” I said. “Go ahead and enjoy your smelly party.”

      I tried to escape his grip, but expect a football guy to have large hands and a tight grip. Also smelly. I  don’t know if this is the case with the other school jocks, but they’re just smelly for me. They smelled like sweat, covered with thick and strong cologne. 

      Julius put his arms around me, dragging me towards his other friends who were laughing while watching me getting dragged by Julius. I was nearly choking. “Don’t be such a bore, Skinny Toes,” Julius whispered.

      Some of his friends ran towards us, patting me in the back and saying things like, “How’re you, Skinny Toes? Did that hot sauce we poured all over your face’s still working its magic?” Yes, I know, real sweet guys we got here. They dragged me along, my neck between their beefy arms  and my face suffocating on their armpits (the worst torture ever) to the point that I was glad when they dropped me in front of Gabe Gabrentine (A. K. A the smelliest guy of all time.)

      “Well, if isn’t Skinny Toes?” Gabe greeted, making the three girls—Ashe’s Fierro’s minions—behind him giggle. What’s funny about that? I don’t know. “How long has it been since we had fun? Three days?”

      I snarled at him. “I think you’re mistaking me with Mrs. Apple.” because you literally just pranked me with that old locker trick this morning. That one gained some ooh’s from his friends.

      Gabe’s grin disappeared, just like his dignity when his and Mrs. Apple’s video conquered the campus. Okay, no. He wasn’t exactly ashamed. Hell, he was proud when that happened. I wanted to yell at the heavens and say, “Why?!” like, why did you drop me in this junk place? Why did my mother have to be some kind of garbage? Why did my father have to die? Why can’t I be normal? You know, those kinds of stuff.

      “Ah, right. I got a surprise for you. Got this somewhere in our house.” Gabe reached something from the pocket of his jeans. From his pocket was a small and stylish USB. He handed it to with his grin back, his eyes glinting brighter than usual. “It’s full of those shows.”

      I didn’t take the USB (because why?) and stared at him with disgust. Really, what’s wrong with people these days? I feel like I’ve been born in the wrong era. And who would keep a small drive full of—

      “But, Skinny Toes, I was trying to cheer you up,” Gabe said, giving me a that’s so sad, let me give you my precious USB of pornography look. He shifted on his seat while his other friends tried their best to not interrupt and snicker around us. Or laugh at their phones. Who knows? “I mean, it’s not like I believe that rumors, but make sense.”

      There are a whole bunch of rumors going around Ravenwood. That dead girl’s ghost haunting one of the classrooms, Gabe’s affair with Mrs. Apple (confirmed true), Diane Segui dead, random teenage boy being gay, random teenage girl hooking up with two guys, a random student using drugs and a bunch of other ridiculous things, but now, whatever Gabe was talking about, I was sure I have no idea what he was talking about.

      He must’ve seen my confused expression (I’m afraid it’s kind of permanent. I always had that What the heck am J doing here? look) and began to laugh loudly, glancing at his friends like can you believe this gal? Apparently, I had no time to watch their ugly laughing, and also, my nose can’t handle their stench, so I turned around and started to walk away.

      “Aren’t you the one who got Diane killed?” That stopped me. “Or worse.. you are the one who killed her.”

      “You’re stupid to believe that.” I simply said. I glanced at his friends and the other students that were discreetly watching us. “She’s not dead.”

      Gabe raised his eyebrows like he’s challenging me. “Really? What, do you expect us to believe that?” he snapped his fingers in front of me. “Wake up, Skinny Toes. She’s dead. It’s obvious. And it’s your fault. If it wasn’t, why would that dark guy want to talk to you? You’re obviously one of the culprits.”

      He knew about detective Rowen. Did he talk to Gabe, too? I anxiously looked around, afraid that they’ll actually believe smelly Gabe. And they were. Even the other students that actually had nothing to do with me and all this drama got this terrified look on their faces like He makes sense. I’m totally posting this on the school thread.

      I know he was trying to get under my skin, but I  felt scared and guilty, even though I had no reason to be. Rumors? These kinds of rumors are going around the campus? The idea scared me. Someone out here was pinning this all down on me, and whoever and if ever I had a list of my suspects, probably the whole student body would be there. Everyone seemed to hate me here, except other students like George Matthews. Or maybe it was just one of their pranks, their horrible kind of fun. I remembered Ashe Fierro doing the same to me months ago.  She blamed me for the chaos in the cafeteria, told the school committee that I started it by attacking a guy. And then she came up to me with a smirk on her face and said, “Oops, my bad.”

      Even though I was slightly afraid, I wasn’t really that shocked. With all these a-holes and bitches going around the campus, and me being all weird and outcaste, it’s almost normal to expect this kind of thing. That’s how depressing life is, especially when the people around you didn’t like you. So you got to expect negative things and give zero fucks.

      Great. As if my life wasn’t miserable enough

      I didn’t say anything, didn’t waste my time defending myself as I did with detective Rowen, instead, I gave him one last dead look and turned on my heels. There were so many things that are better to do than being in the presence of the most stinky person that probably existed. All j can do was to hope that they use their small brains for a change. Whatever, this issue about Diane would die, give it some weeks. Maybe two. But still...

      When I looked up, someone bumped into me. (It was so cliche.) I don’t know if I was momentarily blind, stupid or whoever I crashed with was just dumb. I was about to say something like Watch it or something (normally, I’d say sorry, but this wasn’t a normal day)  when I realized who was in front of me.

      In front of me was the only person that actually treated me fairly. You all know who I was talking about. George Matthews. He was staring down at me with his bright blue eyes. Everything about him made him look serious, but his eyes just naturally twinkled. As I was staring at him, I realized what was the reason why girls go gaga about him. He wasn’t really that famous guy who happened to be an athlete or like your typical cool guy, but he had this charisma like It’s okay, it’s just my vibe. I had no idea what that meant.

      “I’m sorry,” He finally said. His eyes wandered behind me. “I wasn’t looking.”

      I tried to find the right words that I should say. Should I thank him? Ask him why he’s always helping me to get away from the bullying? But then, before I could even utter a word, he walked past me. Well, isn’t that so convenient? There was a pang in my chest, thinking that I just lost my chance to actually talk to him. I didn’t look back to see where he was heading and continued on my way.

      Hours flew by, and I found myself waking up inside the library. I tried to remember why the heck I ended up here, but the books and my project gave it away. I looked around to see that the place was empty as ever, and the outside the window, the sky was dark. I looked at the large alarm clock standing beside the big doors of the library.

      “Ten p.m.?” I thought out loud. “What the heck?”

      Why did no one even shake me awake? Even the ugliest way of waking up like.. throwing a bucket of water in my face, blowing a hornet to my ear, kicking me or tying me up or something. Those ways always work (believe me, I experienced all of it and more.) What a perfect time for them to be kind. I frowned, shoving my things in my old backpack and getting out of my seat.

      I still can’t believe that I’ve been sleeping here for hours. Even Mr. Jones didn’t even make the effort to wake me up. He’s the librarian, one of my favorite teachers. He knows all about the books in this place, and he’s quite fair, not like the mad-zilla of this school, Mrs. Apple.

      When I turned to leave, that’s when I saw a girl sitting across the table, reading a book like she doesn’t even care how late is it. Oh, I thought. Thanks for waking me up, stranger. Only then I realized that this was the girl that  O met in Mrs. Apple’s office this afternoon. She still had that frown and bored face as she stares (read) at the book that she’s holding, her mismatched eyes turning into a deeper shade of blue and green under the warm lights of the library. She doesn’t seem to notice (or she simply doesn’t care) my presence. And I did nothing to make her turn to me. Deep inside my brain, I was wondering if she’s also interrogated by detective Rowen, then I realized I don’t care.

      I silently made my way towards the doors of the library, readying myself to act like a ninja the moment I set my foot on the halls. The good thing was, Ravenwood stays open until eleven o’clock, give that there are teachers and other workers still doing their stuff. The bad thing was, students, aren’t allowed to casually stroll around the campus this late unless you have something to do. And I don’t. But I can improvise.

      Readying for improvised reasons, I turned to the knob of the library doors, only to learn that it was locked from the outside. Who the heck locks a library and also on the outside? Convinced that I won’t stay in a library through out the night, I tried some hopeless tricks. Like hoping that it would open, and forcing it to open.

      I pounded loudly on the door. “Hey!”  I yelled, my horrible voice filling the entire library. “Let us out!”

      It was hopeless. I looked at the girl with me, but she’s still there, frowning at the book she’s reading. She didn’t even look at me and my idiocy, which is okay. She’s just there, her eyes scanning the book she has in her hand, her mismatched eyes turning into a deeper shade of green and blue, fringed with dark eyelashes, under the worm lights above us, still wearing her brown, oversized hoodie.

      Apart of me wanted to call for her and ask whatever the **** happened,  but I remembered the hateful look she gave me back at Mrs. Apple’s office this afternoon. Maybe she’s one of the students that joined Hate-Sam-Parade or something. One of the beauty cliques? No, I don’t think so. She’s beautiful, very,  and she had the hint of mischief in her, but she doesn’t have the bitchy vibe Ashe always gave me. Maybe one of the female jocks? Bah. I also don’t think that’s it. Maybe just one of the students that really just treats me like garbage with entertainment value? Yeah, that’s probably it.

      Or maybe I’m just overthinking things here.

      As I stare at her, I wondered if detective Rowen also interrogated her. Was she also on the damn list he was talking about? Remembering my conversation with detective Rowen and his accusing questions made my blood boil. Stupid detectives and stupid witnesses.

      Shrugging off the thought (because why not) I made my way towards the chair where I was seated again. I plopped myself there, feeling as hopeless as ever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always hopeless. Hopeless is my middle name, but I’m hopeless hopeless. I tried to think of how to get our of this place like maybe, breaking the installed large glass windows at the end of the library, or making very loud noises, but it was impossible. I doubt I can even break the windows, and if ever I did, I’m too broke to pay for it. And in making noises, it would just be impossible because this library is underground.

      I shrunk on my seat and threw my arms to the air. “Great!”

      Suddenly, the girl shut the book she was reading and slammed it down the table. She turned to me, her eyebrows knitting. “You’re so loud.”

      I couldn’t even believe that she’s much concerned than my loudness instead of the fact that we’re locked in here. I stared at her confusion and frustration.

      “Are you kidding me?” I asked incredulously. “Are you even aware that we’re locked here? If we don’t get out—”

      “Who cares?” and she looked genuinely confused like why?

      “I do. And you should, too.” I replied. “We’re trapped in here.”

      She groaned, picking up the book she was reading, These Marvelous Creatures, and focused on them again. I shook my head in disbelief. How could someone not panic in this kind of situation? I sighed in exasperation, my mind drawing blanks as I think of a way to get out of here. And the universe loved me so much that it picked a very helpful companion for me.

      I decided that I should try to worry less and do something like to worry more. Did that make sense? No. Just like what’s happening now.

      I decided to talk to strangers. “Hey,” I called out across the table. The girl lifted her mismatched eyes on me. It was strange. One having the brightest shade of blue, and the other palest green, with the color of amber in the middle. Then I backed up. “Do you have any idea how we can get out of her?”

      She stared at me for a moment like she’s appraising me, then her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

      “What?”

      She frowned at me, then focused on her book again. I bit back a curse and glared at the table in front of me.  “Really, do you want to be here all evening?” I asked.

      “I wouldn’t be here if I don’t.” she actually replied, turning another page of her book, but I got the feeling that I got even the slightest bit of her attention.

      All I could do was to give her a confused look and think why. Why would someone like to be trapped in someplace inside a school? And she doesn’t even look like she’s lying.  I shook my head, muttering to myself. “How to get out.. how to get out..”

       Being trapped, knowing that I can’t get out of somewhere was the thing that I hate the most. I’ve spent my childhood inside a damned and clamped room, I’ve had enough of it.

       From across the table, the girl sighed. “I can’t focus on my book if you keep muttering things like that.” She said, throwing me an annoyed look.

      “Well, I’m sorry. Would you like me to shut up and silently thank the gods for feeling so blessed?”

      That got her attention. Closing her book, she stood up and looked around the room like she’s realizing that she’s inside Ravenwood’s library. She walked towards one of the bookshelves and put the book there with an annoyed look on her face.

      When she turned to me, she was scowling. “I thought that I’d find my peace and quiet here,” she said, then she gestured towards me like I’m the most hateful creature that existed. “But then, here you are.”

       “Aren’t you bothered with all of this?” I asked, found my voice.

       She looked at me, her mismatched eye color disorienting me and mesmerizing me at the same time. “I’m not. I wouldn’t lock myself in here if I am.”

      “You what?”

      That earned a slight smirk from her. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the foundation of the bookshelf beside her. She tilted her head as if studying me. “You heard me.”

      “But why?!”

       She frowned as if all my questions were annoying her. “Because I want to. I always do this on Thursdays.” She said, and it sounded some there’s a hidden joke in there. Which I don’t know and I don’t care. She still locked us in.

      “Didn’t you even think that I might be here with you?”

      She looked like she’s actually thinking. “No, I didn’t.”

       I let this information sink into my brain. I held up a hand, “Okay, okay. How do we get out of here?”

       Her eyes narrowed. “We?” she asked, and before I could answer, she threw something at me. Some small metal that came from the pocket of her hoodie. I caught it, managing to not make a fool out of myself. “No, I don’t think so. I’m here for a reason.”

     I wanted to ask what’s her reason about locking us in here in the middle of the night and all that hit I figured that would be too nosy of me. I barely even know her, and she hates me. I just know it.

     “What’s this for?” I asked, holding up the small key in my hand.

     “For the library’s backdoor.”

     “This place has a back door?” I asked. I never heard of whatever she’s talking about.

      Her eyebrow twitched. “You’re as stupid as they claim you are.” She snapped at me. “At the end of the library, at the archives, there’s another door.”

      With all those things she told me, I just have her a confused look and said, “But the archives are—”

      “Locked? Prohibited? Who cares?” She interrupted, the frown in her face turning into a scowl. “Just leave. You’re going to interrupt the party.”