My Other Half *GxG*

Ella

I was raised in a religious household. We read our Bibles, pray before meals and bed, attend church events, and tell others about our faith. The "basic christian" stuff.

I try to fit in with them. I read my bible, listen in church, pray, I do what I'm told. Obsessively. But I don't feel what the other's claim to feel. The peace, or safety. Any of that. I just feel empty.

"Read your bible more", "pray harder", that's what they tell me. So I do. I read until I can't keep my eyes open anymore.  I pray until I've run out of words to say. And I feel nothing. It makes me think they are faking it. That they don't actually feel the "presence of God". Or maybe there's just something wrong with me.

Either way I do it. I push to feel what they feel. I push for that guide. The "big sign" that gives you no doubt there's a higher being. Because that gives me a purpose. A reason to be here. To be alive. To get out of bed every morning. And I need that reason.

***

The halls crowd with people as the first bell rings. I find my way through the hall trying to find my first class. The first day of school. It makes the halls extra crowded. Everyone trying to find their classes, freshmen finding their way through the new school. It is extremely chaotic.

As I'm walking someone runs right into me. Their shoulder slams into my body, and I fall to the floor. My backpack drops with a smack. I slam into it. Everyone looks around, for I've caused a scene. A lot of people gasp. Great. First day and I've already made a fool out of myself.

"My bad," I hear a voice say. I look up and there's a girl hovering over me. She has her hair cut short and it frames her face perfectly, so I see it clearly.

She has auburn hair to her neck. Hazel eyes. Her skin is almost like honey. Smooth and dark. She looks different from the other students here. I don't recognize her. Meaning she's either new, a really old looking freshman, or has been invisible until now. And by looking at her the last option seems likely.

She has this weird vibe going on. Like she doesn't care what others think. She doesn't actually seem phased that she knocked someone over. A little remorse, but nothing more.

She holds her hand out in an attempt to help me up. I stand up and push past her, ignoring the gesture. Okay that's probably rude, but she just barreled through me on the first day. Great way to start out. I go to class as quickly as possible, avoiding any further embarrassment.

"Bitch," I hear her mutter as I make my way down the hall.

My first class is English. Thank God. An easy way to start out my day. If it were math I would be doomed. Math and I do not get along. Me and English, however, are good friends. I have math third period.

I take a seat in the second row. Seats mean everything. You want to be close enough to the front to where you can see well and aren't associated with the troublemakers in the back, but you don't want to sit in the front row or you're associated with the teachers' pets.

You also don't want to be too close to the edge or you'll be by the teacher's desk. Then they can see your every move, and trust me you don't want that. You want to sit somewhere in the middle. Which is exactly where I sat.

I set my bag on the ground and take out the supplies I need. It's not much. A pencil, two pens (a red and a blue one to separate things), a notebook, and my planner. Okay to other people it sounds like a lot, but I like to be prepared. Organization. I need it. I'm a bit of a control freak.

As I open my planner I see someone walk in the door. A girl. She wore a black leather jacket over what looked like a flannel shirt. Her jeans are dark and ripped, and looked to have chains on them. I realized it was the girl from earlier who had run into her. Wonderful.