Rejected By Society

The hallway is quiet as I walk, my books clutched tightly to my chest. I kept my head down, avoiding everyone's stares. This was usual for me.

I quickly open my locker and put all my books in, except my art book. Once I locked my locker back up again I scurry out the hall and made my way to the garden at the back of the school.

I let out a big sigh of relief and sit down in front of the big Weeping Willow tree. This was my place. I thought, since no one ever comes here it's a perfect place for me to relax and draw.

I looked around for something to draw. A smile appeared on my face as I looked over to the pond. A duck and her ducklings were swimming and diving in the water, the ducklings occasionally splashing each other playfully.

A few minutes later I finished drawing the mother duck and two of her babies.

"Woah."

I squealed and jumped up at the sound of someone's voice. I was not expecting someone to be here.

"S-sorry."

I turned around to meet a guy. He was tall, black hair that was styled to make him look like he just woke up, green eyes with long eyelashes that framed them and beautiful pink lips.

Why is someone this amazing talking to me?

"I'm Peter." he smiled and looked down at the ground.

I hesitantly walked over and held my hand out for him to shake. He looked down at my hand, then his eyes made their way up to my face. I smiled.

He took my smaller hand in his and shook it carefully.

"Your a really good drawer." he spoke, picking up my art book and handing it to me.

I blushed and nodded, taking it from his hands and dusting off a bit of grass on the cover.

"Why don't you talk?" he asked all of a sudden. Making me freeze in place.

Because no one cares about me. So what's the point.

I looked down at the ground, playing with the sleeves of my jumper. I felt his hand being placed under my chin, slowly lifting my face so I could look him in the eyes.

"You're very beautiful. I would assume your voice would match... So why don't you speak?"

I pushed his hand away from my face gently, then turned around shrugging.

He sighed. "Can I have your number?"

I turned back around to face him, giving him a confused look.

He smiled and let a small laugh escape his lips. "Well, you can text can't you?"

I nodded.

"So.. Can I?" he said, scratching the back of his neck.

I nodded again and pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I unlocked it and handed it to him.

He took it from my hands and sent himself a text message.

"What's your name?"

I held my hand out for him to pass me his phone. Once he did I typed in my name, then handed it back.

The bell rang, signaling that the day is finally over. Peter gave me my phone, "I'll text you later."

With that he grabbed his bag and walked out of the garden, waving.

. . . .

I walk through the front door of my house to be greeted by my grandmother.

Sadly, my mother died from Cancer when I was seven, and my father hung himself from depression soon after... I really do miss them, they were the greatest parents a girl could have. But luckily my gran took me in which I am still very thankful for.