"Class the new girl is coming now!"
Mrs. bustier said
~yesterday~
-Anna-
I hate it, I hate it mom it's the seventh time we're moving....
I said quietly to my mom
"Anna swittie....
You know it's not up to me...
But now it's gonna be different I promise!"
Mom said
"Yeah sure"
I said angrily and ran to my room
"Anna! Anna let's talk about it please!"
I didn't listen to her. I'm tired of talking.
I ran to my room and slammed the door.
Perfect!
A new school again!
Just when my friends started to accept me....
Because there's something about me that no one knows it because I have a secret...
I'm not a normal girl
I can read people yes like a book I can know what they are thinking how they are feeling if they're lying or telling the truth....
Their weaknesses.
Their strengths.
I know everything....
Since I was a little girl I noticed that something is wrong with me...
I didn't tell anyone.
I never used my "power" for bad things
Most of the time I tried to hide it...
"oh no" I said to myself
it's 2AM and tomorrow is my first day at my new school...
Time to go sleep...
~tomorrow~
-Anna-
"Class the new girl is coming now !"
Mrs. bustier said
It was my sign...
I entered the classroom.
When my favorite black sweater covered me
They couldn't see my face
I was ashamed
It's always like this even after seven times.....
"Don't be shy,
Come sit with Adrien"
Nino is sick today so you can replace him right now. "
Mrs. Bustier said and smile
I nodded And took off my sweater
"Wow" I heard the students say
I ignored it
And went sit next to a blond boy who I didn't even recognize
"How did you know I'm Adrien?"
The blond boy smiled and ask me
And then I saw his face....
Gorgeous green eyes and his hair shines like the sun like he was an angel
The only problem is that his smile was fake in the first second I saw that this sunshine boy has a difficult life...
I smiled to him and said "I just had a feeling, is it okay that I'm sitting here?"
"Of course!" He said gladly
he was happy to meet new friends too.....
He reminded me myself a lot....
