Cabin In The Hoh Rainforest

Prolouge

This is a piece of my own creation, please do not steal, don't plagiarize, and enjoy!

Rose Adair's POV

I'm Rose Adair. I'm 15. And I'm carrying a small box. You might be asking, 'Why are you carrying a box?', well, I can't tell you that. Then you might move on to something along the lines of 'Well, then what's in the box?', well, I cant actually tell you that either. But what I can tell you is that this box is made out of silver, and I used to use it for slips of paper that had ideas for fan fiction on them. Yes. That's how my life is. But, right now, I'm not in the best repair myself. Mentally anyway. I was in the Hunger Games, and I was a hurt multiple times, but my friend Kara.... Well, she died before we got back...
I keep trying to tell myself that is what happens when both curiosity catches the cat, and when it's their time to go down in the history books of their loved ones, but I feel numb. Heavy. Nothing. The thing is, when we hear about deaths of people that we know of, but aren't close to, we don't get affected by it much, and that's why we think of everyone we have ever loved to be gods. Like they aren't capable of imperfection...of sadness...of pain...

...Of death...

But here I was, walking away from the library, without my best friend, who had died in an alternate dimension, and I couldn't tell anyone about it, or I could be pinned wrongly as the person at fault for this horror. I went home that day, locked myself into my room, and stayed there for a week, not uttering a single word to anyone, or anything, I just sat in silence, being and doing nothing. When I did finally come out of my room, I just received a blunt smack to the face from my mother. She yelled at me, cursed at me, pushed me and hit me, finally breaking down into tears when she saw the mess I was from not changing or showering, how I wasn't fighting back against the abuse like I usually did, how I had lost so much weight, how I hadn't slept for those days on end, how I hadn't.
Said.
A single.
Word.
She tried so hard to get me talk, to say what happened, but I didn't say a single word. Eventually, I went back to school, where I went from an extremely self confident, tall spirited, popular, kind, loud, genius of a bright blue, short haired girl straight to an extremely self conscious, slouchy spirit, bullied and hated, short tempered, dead silent, genius of a platinum white, short haired girl that was getting horrible grades.
People would shove me, kick me, and punch me. I'd come home sporting new bruises, and come back to school with even more, until one day when the biggest school bully decided to shove me on the anniversary of her death, exactly a year after her "disappearance", and I kicked his ass. He shoved me into a wall, I just huffed, and he went on tormenting me until I was truly done with his shit. I turned and punched him in the eye, kicked him in his non existent balls, and pushed him to the ground where he was groaning in pain. Nobody at school ever came near me again, they just spread rumors about me, and talked about me behind my back, but I didn't care. They didn't understand why I was the way I was now. But the worst part? No body bothered to get to understand anything.