L*O*S*T

1 - A Life Worth Living

Some people have such luck in their life. They have all the money in the world, drive all the cars they buy, live in the biggest houses and travel to far places. Then there are people like me. Who don't have a lot of money, no transportation, I don't even have a proper family. It's times like these where I wish I was a normal teenager.

You see, I have a weird power. I'm not really colour blind, I can see everything the way it is. But some items, their colour looks like that super saturated filter on like... What's the app called? Snapchat? I don't know. See? I'm not a normal teenager. It's all normal, but lets say, I see an apple. The colour is super saturated. Once I touch the apple, I'm taken back to a memory. It's really hard to explain. I can't control it. I'm so curious about everything around me, its kind of freaky. I have a habit of twiddling my fingers to myself because I can't control my "gift" as my mom would call it. I've told my mom and for a while, she didn't really believe me. I guess I've talked about it for a long time because I somehow adapted this power when I was young that she gave in.

When I was young, I didn't really knew how it worked. Over the years, I have gotten better at using this power. When I was young, when I saw a really saturated item and I touched it, I'd fly backwards as if I had been hit in the stomach. As I grew up, I learned how to maintain a stance in touching very saturated items. The colours vary for some reason. Maybe their very important memories if they're very saturated? I guess I'll never know.

Anyways, aside from the weird "gift" I have, I'm not that much fun to talk about. In fact. I'm not fun at all. I have a somewhat boring life. Nothing exciting ever happens to me. I was bullied in elementary school for being the biggest kid on the playground. I was big for a kid. I'm not just talking about tall but I was certainly overweight as a pre-schooler.  Skipping on to grade 5, I was still a little bit tall but I was slowly shedding off a few pounds. No one really bullied me because I was nothing fun to... make fun of. Onto middle school, grade 7 was the year I began to work out.
My appearance had slowly began to change over the years as well. In my elementary years, I had long blonde hair that reached the top of my thigh. I had brilliant blue eyes with small freckles that spread all over my face. As I got older, I kept my hair at a chest length, no more than that usually. My eyes had somehow turned into a pale blue/gray that affected my eyesight (hence the weird gift thing) and my freckles decreased as well, somehow.

I was never one for having "talent". I liked to sing. A lot of people don't know that. Well, actually, no one knew that. Not even my mom. It's not something I liked to hide but it's not something I hid either. It's just that I didn't have any friends to share my talent with. I'm a huge basketball fan. I liked following up on the latest games and I always root for my favourite team. I have team merch that I wear to school all the time but then again, it's not like I have friends to share my interests with. I'm not that good at basketball but I liked to play once in a while. I knew all the tactics and strategies but I never applied that to the field. I admired to be famous one day. People only want to be known just for the fame and sometimes, I think about that. But, I know that I want to be famous because I want to prove that sometimes, people with stories like mine can have success in life. I want to major in business or law. Something that could get me into the top running companies. 

Oh how I would love to become famous one day. I could prove to people I could be successful and they wouldn't just see me as that "quiet girl" from high school. It would be amazing to prove them. Little did I know, I would get that chance. In a way I never would have thought to be a situation I would be in...

"Jenna."

I looked up to see Mrs. Evans smiling down at me. Everyone around the room looked busy working away. The sound of pens and pencils scratching against paper filled the room. Chatter was flat on top of that. Conversations came from one end of the room to the other end of the room. Mrs. Evans handed me a few sheets of papers as she bent down to my level. I noticed that her sweater was a little bit faded in colour and I could tell that it had a faint memory, but I was in no where near interested to find out what it was. She was a sweet lady who talked about her childhood a lot. She was a kind person and a good history teacher but she just talked way too much. I smiled back at her shyly.

"You've completed all of your assignments and I'm just here to hand them out."

"Oh, thank you."

I say blankly as I take the papers out of her hand slowly. She began to walk away but turned her head back to me slightly.

"Keep up the good work!"

I sighed as I shoved the papers into my bag. Every one in my table group chatted away as I continued writing down notes in my binder. I looked to my left as I noticed someone standing by the door. It was a boy around my age, maybe a year or two older. He leaned against the edge of the door as he stared into my classroom. His face was slim and he seemed to be average height. He had sleek black hair and piercing pale blue eyes. They looked almost as if he was staring at something very hard, focusing. His hands sat in his pockets comfortably as he continued to stare in our direction. It almost seemed as if he was staring at me. His watch glowed a vibrant colour, very saturated. I heard a voice from behind me that shook me from my thoughts.

"Jenna? Get to work."

I turn my head around but detected no one that could have said that to me. No one was looking in my direction and the teacher was on the other side of the room. I turn my head back around to get another look at him.

But he was gone.