When We Meet Again

Chapter 1: Willow- Not a morning person

Thank you so much for reading! Please comment and vote to let us know what you think! We would reallyappreciate it!
And now on to the story!
-BNDuran

***not edited***

My bed seemed to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, begging me to stay as I roll out of it. My mess of scarlet hair blinding me, sending me stumbling into everything in my room as I make my way to the light switch. A loud crash makes me cringe and hesitantly I push my stuburn locks away from my face to find shatters of what use to be my tuxedo wearing glass pig.

With a frustrated sigh I rummage through my closet grabbing the first thing I saw, not really caring on my choice of clothing. Not like anyone would notice, or care. Just another day in that hell hole I call school.

On the kitchen counter I find my daily breakfast plate on the table attached with a note. 'Be sure to eat every last bite! No exceptions Willow, you can't be skiping meals again. Doctors orders! Love you with all my heart, Mom.' I roll my eyes at the small paper, throwing it in the recycling bin. You faint once from lack of nutrients and you all of a sudden have an eating disorder. I eat a spoonful of the eggs before grabbing an apple and disposing of what was left on the plate in a plastic bag. I would throw it in my neighbors bin on my journey to school.

Mother already left. She has to be at the school extra early and unless I want wake up earlier than necessary, I would have to walk to school. My house is only five minutes away, so it took very little to no time at all to reach my destination. Quickly finding myself standing in front of the old rusty iron gates that gave off that eerie feeling normally felt in a haunted house. Being ten feet high and having vines running up the stone wall that surrounded half the schools perimeter really didn't scream friendly. It made me feel like I was going to jail or a mental hospital. The school itself was not any better either, it looked like an old church crossed with a medieval castle and was surrounded by a gate free forest, which makes the wall at the entrance pretty much pointless and stupid.

Rolling my eyes at my thoughts I made my way through the halls and to my safe domain, but before I could reach it a very determined looking jock stalked my way. "Move freak!" Jake Rozwell, the captain of the baseball team yells as he forcefully shoves me aside. He sets his gigantic foot out on the path of my stumble sending me face first to the floor. I could hear my backpack hit the ground with a soft thump before his laughter fill the gloomy hall holding a few witnesses. Not that they would do a thing about the situation.

I was never popular, though the whole town is VERY aware of my existence. Who wouldn't know about the freak found on the roots of a willow tree? I was the talk of the town. When I was a baby, they found me in the woods untouched by predators, no one knew where I came from and that scared them the most. They called me the 'miracle child' the moment they figured out I had been there for weeks on end with no food or water, but still was as health as a horse. That's how I got the name Willow, but around here you will also know me as freak, ugly, slut (this one I really don't understand...), and any other obscene names they could think of, not that they were any good. Not knowing who I belonged to or where I came from struck fear in to the heart of the town and I was condemned to live my life alone... well, for the most part. With only one exception.

After jerk-face left I gathered my turquoise backpack once more and continued my journey, not even sparing a glance at the other student that littered the hall. You get tired of the ashamed stares mixed in with those of pity.

I find myself standing in front of the closed door of my first class of the day, my hand clutching the door handle unsure if it should twisted it open or let it go. This would be the third week I would arrive early and I don't know if I would be able to go through another Spanish inquisition-like morning. Especially since it normally revolves around why I don't hang out with my "friends", which by the way are almost nonexistent. There is Jonathan, but he doesn't count. I stare at the door for a bit before swallowing down my hesitation and twisting the door open.