Red.

6

I look back at what has become of my life more often than should be considered healthy.

I have always thought of myself as strong. As long as I'm still standing I'm not considered weak, right? I have withstood what I thought to be the worse half of abuse, the physical part.

But as I stand here, in the middle of a crowded hallway, I have never felt more alone. Everywhere I look there was people, I was surrounded by people. But none of them could relate to me, none of them could ever understand what I have been through. None of them could ever understand who I've become.

I have never felt this weak. This didn't make any sense to me, how could humans turn on their own race so easily? It astonished me enough for one to physically rip me to shreds but it left me utterly speechless to find hundreds more waiting to have their turn at me. But they weren't carrying knives or bats, they had words in their arsenal.

Words are deadly. Maybe even more so than weapons. Words have the ability to crawl under your skin and rip you apart from the inside out. They will destroy you, as they have come so close to destroying me.

I was in Home EC class with Katie. We were assigned partners and instructed to bake a chocolate cake from scratch. It was supposed to be a test of some sort, to see how much we knew about baking. From the moment we started I knew Katie knew nothing useful and wondered why she even signed up for the class.

Katie had managed to get flour all over her face and in her hair when she ripped the bag open. Each egg she held seemed to crack of its own accord, covering her hands and the table in egg yolk. Ms. Cordoba, our instructor, didn't seem very please with us when we had asked for more eggs.

"She looked at me like I had just cracked an egg over her head," Katie exclaimed indignantly when we left the classroom thirty minutes later. She still had a bit of flour in her hair. "Like anyone would want to, I swear she resembles a vulture more closely than my Aunt Carol and that is downright scary."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. I laughed longer and louder than I have in a very long time, and probably more than was necessary. People threw curious looks at us as we continued down the hallway, as if they were surprised to see the Psycho laughing and talking with someone friendly.

No matter how hard I tried, over the past week Katie has been determined to remain by my side. I was flattered, and I will admit my attempts to get rid of her were weak. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone to lean on for support. I didn't have a lot of that currently.

The only downside was Katie was getting a little negative feedback herself. She wasn't branded a cruel name, like me, aside from the rare occasion Lily would speak to her. She only ever did to call her a red-headed demon. It still made my skin prickle with anger when I remembered the look on Katie's face when people around her began to laugh and point.

But I knew my presence was the cause of her suffering. I told her this many times, trying to get her to see this from my perspective. That if we both went our separate ways it would be easier for her but she'd just shake her head and smile.

I was about to open my mouth to remind her of this again, someone across the hall had thrown a paper airplane with a devil drawn on it at her, but my words were stuck in my throat when I collided with something solid.

I looked up to find a tall, lean boy with blonde hair that fell in his light blue eyes. He stands with his feet apart and shoulders back, as if anticipating an attack. But he just smiles down at me, showcasing a row of straight white teeth. I notice a few people (more than a few) cast confused looks our way, he must be someone too popular and well-liked to be associating themselves with me.