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ROSE WAS NOT REMARKABLE.
_
Compared to all the other girls who sat around her, showing pearly whites and perfect teeth, their beige tans and sky blue eyes, Rose stood out among them like a sore thumb, with her pale complexions and her hazel eyes. She saw flashes of white in every direction, the girls showing off their teeth and waving their hair back and fort. Rose did not think of herself as unique, but rather, not enough. She thought of her skinny self, all pale as if she was some type of ghost that no one seemed to notice. She hated high school, she hated the identical, fake smiles of all the people around her. Were the girls around her, her friends, or would they sacrifice her the moment she fell short of perfect?
As the bell rang, she slowly stood up and gathered her things, before making her way down out of the classroom. Rose made her way down the hallway, everyone bumping into her and not even bothering to say an "excuse me". And she kept her eyes wide, looking around. And she saw him. Him, the boy who she always smiled a little wider at whenever he looked at her, stood a little taller when he passed by, the boy, who she was completely and utterly infatuated in.
Paul Durand.
He stood out amongst her peers, may it be the way he smiles, or walks, or breathes, even. But of course, it just had to be that every other girl was also completely and utterly in love with him, How convenient, that Rose had to feel such special feelings for a boy that didn't spare one glance at her. And he knew his type, the type of girl with long tan legs and wavy blonde hair. Which was the complete opposite of Rose.
He probably didn't even know who she was, let alone acknowledge her.
But she was different, no one else loved him as much as she did, no one knew how much her heart lit up when she saw him, and Rose believed that she had to save him, from this pit of snakes.
And as he passed her in the hallway, he looked in her direction, and waved, her heart swelled, and she almost lifted her hand to wave back, before realizing it wasn't her he smiled at, but rather one other. And as Rose turned back to see who it was, Rose saw red in her vision.
Carrie.
Cardea, "Carrie", Wesley, was now her sworn enemy, with her sweet looks and wide smiles, she was not who she seemed. Her slender fingers waved back at him, each one decorated with a small ring. And Rose was going to make sure everyone saw her the way she did.In that moment, Carrie didn't look so nice to Rose anymore, and her innocent smile turned evil. And her fingers that were caressing Paul's face didn't look so soft and careful.
High school really was a creatively devious way to torture innocent teens, wasn't it?
She was ready to leave, and she tightly held on to her backpack before making her way out of the place she called "High School", with her head lowered, and crazy thoughts running through her mind.
That afternoon, when she returned home, the phone instantly rang. "Hello?" Rose answered the phone. "Hi, is this, um, Rose Hawthorne?" Rose was confused, no one called during the day, especially not any old ladies with sweet voices. "Yes, it is. Is everything ok?"
I'm afraid I have some bad news, dear. Your mother, Rachel, you see, she has had a fatal accident."
