CROOKED

HERE'S TO NEW BEGINNINGS(chap 3)

Waking up to an alarm is a weird feeling. It's as though you're in this in-between. You're awake but not fully. It's like you're being pulled out of this mysterious disturbance.

"Motherfucking why?" I whisper.

"Minzy!" My yells from downstairs. "Get up, first day!"

"Kill me with a rock and dance on my grave," I whisper as I reluctantly rise up from my bed.

* * *

"Why so many dark colors?" My mom asks as she drives my older sister and I to our new school, Westridge Prep High.

I'm trying to make the outside look like the inside.

I shrug, looking down at my black skirt worn over black fishnets and a black tank top worn under a flannel button - up shirt with black combat boots.

"Freak," I heard my older sister Mahogany whisper.

"Shut the hell up!" I shot back.

I felt my mom's hand hit my shoulder, hard. "Watch yourself."

I hated when she did that. I turn my head to the side view mirror.

A girl starred back at me.

Curly black hair that reached over her breasts, dark skin, wide lips and big, dark eyes.

I fucking swear every time I looked in the mirror I looked different.

* * *

My mom signed us in because apparently Westridge was oh so concerned about the security of it's students. The children of very important people went to this school. My mom was a neurosurgeon and my dad owned some hotels around the country.

Mahogany and I go our separate ways. She had barely said a word to me since the incident and my mom decided we needed a new beginning. But I think the move had a bit to do with her wanting to get farther away from my dad back in Miami.

* * *

I wish I could escape from this hell hole. But these people had me on lock down.

I felt trap in a world I didn't belong in. A world where everyone was always so damn happy.

But it was all fake. No one here had true friends, it was all connections.

That's the thing about rich people. Everyone secretly hoped the other would go bankrupt. You didn't have friends but connections.

Being wealthy was a game. Almost like a child playing with her dollies.

The money was the kid. She decided what you wore, how you carry yourself, and who to party with.

The wealthy were the dolls.

Fake and brainwashed by---

"Mrs. Smith!"

I realized that it was me my AP Calculus teacher was yelling at.

"Yes?" I reply ignoring the idiots snickering.

"Solve this problem for the class."

I turned my head to the projector.

Holy shit that's a lot.

I stayed silent.

"Meet me after class." Was all Mr. Dew said before returning to the rest of the class.

After a long lecture of how unfortunate it is that I was starting school near the beginning of the 3rd quarter, and how if this behavior continues the school can and will have to let me go, he hands me me a pass.

As I walk down the halls, I could feel someone watching me. I knew it wasn't The Lady, I knew when I felt what her gaze felt like. The therapist said she was just a figment of my imagination. She's not.

But it was someone else. I turn my head to find this guy looking at me. Blonde hair and green eyes with a strong jaw line... the typical hot guy in stories.

I hadn't left my house since my family and I moved here to Pasadena. So why did he look so damn familiar?