But there was something about Charlotte. She wasn't like the most prettiest girl in the world, but anyone with heart could tell that she had a beautiful heart. A heart that could easily be broken. A heart that needed to be protected.
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Her pare...
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I was only 13 when my parents died.
When my parents died, I lost everything.
My inheritance, gone.
My home, gone.
My stuff, gone.
My life, gone.
I'll never forget the dread when I tried to wake up my parents. That sunny day, when we were out to get ice-cream, singing to a tune on the radio. I was in the back seat, my parents in the front.
My mother threw me out the car and I ran.
A mob of men trailing behind me, but I ran.
I could hear the fire cackling behind me, the smell of burning gasoline.
And burning flesh.
I never cried. I never grieved. I was numb.
I am still numb.
So there I sat, against the wall, feeling sorry for myself. It's something I do a lot, quite actually.
I felt footsteps nearing me. The old man who had slept a few meters from me held out his hand.
"Young lady, what are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.
"I don't know," I said sarcastically, "Trying to stay alive?" I ignored his failed attempt at a handshake.
The man chuckled and walked away, carrying a rucksack of items. He was soon out of sight.
I stood up, rubbing my eyes, trying to stay alert.
A thought pounded over and over in my head: I had lost drugs from Bing.
This definitely meant that another person was looking for me. There would be no doubt that Bing sent one of his henchmen to find me. Bing did not show any mercy to those that aggravated him. Or lose his precious drugs.
He knew my history, he knew the places I go for help, the places I never would go to. He had sources and loads of money.
I knew only one place I could go that would keep me hidden for now.
High- school.
If someone had a brain, they would never guess a homeless teen going to a high-school for refuge. High-school was full of drama, bullies and teens falling into the wrong places.
Plus, Bing knew I was very uneducated.
I checked the giant clock attached to a building. 9:30 am.
School started at 8:15 am.
Who cares if I was late?
I pulled out the scrap of map I had salvaged from the sidewalk and quickened my pace. In a matter of minutes, I had arrived at the building that would shelter me.
Just yesterday, I had vowed that I would not set foot in here again. But here I was!
I reminded myself that this was not because of my own personal motives, but that it was for my own safety.
I soon as I walked through the hallways, I could feel gazes upon me.
A familiar voice shrilled over the the chatter of high-schoolers. "Miss. Barlowe!"
I groaned. Ms. Murray.
"We missed you this morning! Here's a new copy of your schedule. You'll need it. Your locker combination and everything you need is on that piece of paper! I apologize for yesterday, I was really busy, but today, we can actually get you fitted into the school!" Ms. Murray said.
I pulled my ragged jacket closer to my body. Murray shoved the paper at me and I fumbled with it, ripping off corners as I walked through the halls. Ms. Murray was talking like crazy but I think I zoned out through most of it.
"Here's your locker. Textbooks are already in. Yesterday, I heard you ran out so I didn't get to properly show you around. Unfortunately, I have a meeting today, so I have a student here to lead you around." Ms. Murray said.
My brain processed each and every information she spilled. I hoped the student wasn't involved with Bing. With my luck, it'd probably happen.
"And here I am!" a masculine voice voiced.
"Oh, you're right on time. I am gonna run and get to my meeting!" Ms. Murray smiled forcefully and was gone in a flash.
"Don't worry, she's always like this." the voice said behind me.
I knew that voice.
Sam.
Oh please, not again.
"I hope you're not mad that I applied to be your 'welcome buddy,'" Sam explained.
I turned around with a frown on my face. "You again?"
"Yes, me again." Sam rolled his eyes playfully.
"You," I pointed, "applied to be the person leading me around?"
Sam nodded hesitantly.
He knew my temper.
"Well, I was one of the candidates. I have almost the same classes as you. I'm doing my junior year again." Sam explained.
"You got held back?" I laughed.
"Well, I had my brother to take care of," Sam said, searching in my eyes for sympathy.
He wasn't going to get it.
"And how did you get put into Calculus? And I thought I was smart!" Sam said, taking a peek at my schedule.
My eyes widened. "Calculus?"
"Uh-huh," Sam smirked.
This was going worse than I thought.
"C'mon, we're going to be late," Sam said, pulling my arm.
I yanked my arm away. I checked my schedule. I had literature next.
Sam pushed his glasses up. "Your locker has all the textbooks you need. We're reading Moby Dick, remember?"
I fumbled with my locker combination, pulling it open forcefully. I reached for a book named, "Literature," and took the thick novel.
