nobody | brad s.

prologue

schiz·o·phre·ni·a
ˌskitsəˈfrēnēə,ˌskitsəˈfrenēə/
noun
a long-term mental disorder of a type involving a breakdown in the relation between thought, emotion, and behavior, leading to faulty perception, inappropriate actions and feelings, withdrawal from reality and personal relationships into fantasy and delusion, and a sense of mental fragmentation.

*****

The constant clicking of my shoe on the tile floor is enough to annoy me as I walk down the empty hallway.

218, I repeat in my mind as the numbers grow larger on the pale lockers.

I stop in front of my assigned locker and sigh. A new school.

There was nothing wrong with my old school; my old life. I loved it, in fact. But my mom insisted on us moving because my friends were 'bad influences'.

Sure, they weren't nice to me all the time and tried to get me to do stupid things every once and awhile, but all teenagers are like that.

My mom would always fail to see the good sides of Niall and Gemma. I've known those two for as long as I can remember and they were always there. It's like they knew when I needed them, and they'd just show up.

I twist my combination into the lock, then sharply tug it down. It won't budge.

I try again.

Nothing.

I keep trying and it won't open. I know I'm putting in my combination right, so it can't be me.

I groan in annoyance and continue to yank the lock.

"Here," A skinny blonde lightly pushes me to the side and plays around with my locker a bit, the door wiggling open soon after.

"Wow, thanks." I politely smile at him.

"Some of these lockers are really old. I'd ask for a new one." He watches as i sloppily throw my new textbooks onto the shelf.

I shrug, "I don't mind it."

"So you're new, right?"

I nod.

"What's your name?" He asks.

"Ella." I state.

"Can I walk you to class, Ella?" He smirks.

Well, he seems harmless. The guy doesn't seem like some weirdo nor a douchey jock, so I nod.

"Wait." I stop and he turns to face me. "I don't know your name."

"It's Tristan."

Tristan drops me off by the door of my first class and says to have a good day and how he hopes to see me around again.

And so the lecture begins.

I've never been good at school - or interested in it - so it's not long before I'm blocking the teacher out. I glance around the room and just focus on how dull this whole entire school is. Yeah, I wasn't expecting some sort of happy sunshine school where all my dream come true, but this place feels more like a convent.

My first few classes all go the same. The teachers notice how I don't give a shit at all, but they let it slide since it's my first day here.

I make my way down the hall to the dreaded lunch room. Don't get me wrong, I love food. It's just the pressure of finding somewhere and someone to sit with.

As I'm walking, someone steps on the back of my shoe and I roll my eyes, quickening my pace.

He hits the back of my shoe again and I turn my head halfway around to let whoever this is know I'm annoyed.