Anfang

Aisha

I looked at my braids in my mirror, they had been getting longer. The strands now reached to the middle of my back, which was a change from my short hair in the beginning of summer.

I put on my school uniform, a white button down shirt and a blue skirt with long white socks.

I hate St. Taressa. It was a Catholic school where stuck up rich people went. They're parents owned fancy cars, and large houses, and they all had spoiled lives.

I was only there on scholarship and I was starting a year early at 13 as a freshman. So I mostly kept my head down.

The majority of my days were spent with a comic in one hand and a math book in the other.

Math was an escape. Math contained only numbers. Math didn't have feelings and math, no matter what, always had an answer.

Math doesn't die like my mom did. Math would never die on me. It was always stable, reliable, and there was always an answer.

My mom's death had no answer. She was dead instantly after being hit in a hit and run. I will never know why the driver just kept driving or why she took a short cut. There was absolutely no answer.

I began to grab my books and that's when it happened. My head began to hurt and the room spun. I dropped my books and fell to my knees.

I soon began to feel something deep within me. It was pain. Emotional pain. All I could feel was sadness. I looked into my mirror. The black of my pupils engulfed my whole eyeball. It was an immense darkness and in it I saw pain.

My brother then walked into the room. "Aisha, there's someone-" I looked straight into his eyes.

John fell. He laid on his back, shaking.

"John!"

"John!"

A woman appeared at my door. She wore a black pantsuit with a green buttoned shirt. On her face were sunglasses. She took them off and gave them to me.

"Thank-"

I felt a painful prick on the back of my neck. She shot me. Everything soon went black.