Never Alone

Chapter 1: Unexpected Encounter

I passed the hallway of St. Uriel's Academy with my head down low as I tried to avoid any attention as possible.

Today, I wore a gray jacket and white v- neck t-shirt, paired with black pants and converse. This outfit should've blended me with the crowd but like any other day, it didn't. As if on cue, three blonde girls bumped at me as they passed. I stumbled forward and they sneakered. It took everything in me not to run and hide away under a rock.

"Sorry, b*tch. Didn't see you there." One of them said. I didn't know them by name, just by their faces. They're the wannabe queen bees who kisses the floor that Chloe walks on.

You might ask, who's Chloe?

I'd give you three words: beautiful, evil and my worst nightmare. Okay, that wasn't three words but you get the idea. Chloe ruled the school and everything that's in it.

If you're familiar to the movie "Mean Girls", then you'll understand when I say that she's my very own version of Georgina George. Yeah, that's how mean she is, maybe even more.

I didn't look at them in the eye. Instead, I composed myself as much as I could and tried to walk away but as always, I was blocked.

The skinny one with the pointy noise - who I presume to be the leader of their little group - took a step towards me and asked, "What's the matter, princess? Scared?"

I shook my head and took a step backward but still blocked by another blonde girl only this time, she had pink highlights in her hair and she's about an inch shorter than the leader.

I was cornered.

Sensing my distraught, all three girls stepped closer to me, invading my personal space in the process. If their goal is to be intimidating, then they're doing a hell of a good job at it.

As if on cue, the bell rang and students scrambled to get to their classes. I took the opportunity and ran as fast as my feet could carry me not towards my classroom.

By the end of first period, I was exhausted. As if my recent encounter with the blondes wasn't bad enough, I got scolded at math class because I forgot to do my homework last night. I didn't even know that we had homework. I guess, I zoned out last time and I had to suffer the consequences by hearing Prof. Martin rant about the importance of assignments.

I walked out of the classroom as quietly as I could and raced to my locker. Most of the students ignore me except for those who wanted to cause havoc into my life. I would've been grateful to the school population for doing what they're doing but sadly, when I say school population it means all of them, including my friends.

I didn't have a lot of friends but I had enough to help me survive the hell that's called high school but now, not even one talks to me or glances at my direction. And it all started with that accident.

As I walked down the east wing, I came in contact with the shrine. The shrine is a wall dedicated to all of those students who passed away before they even graduated in high school and also the teachers who died due to old age and other reasons. It's adorned with letters and flowers that were placed by the friends of the deceased or by those who knew them.

Before, I didn't know anyone who's in the shrine except for my science teacher who died of cancer last year but now, I do and I knew him too well. In the middle of the shrine is a large portrait of a blonde haired boy with piercing blue eyes. His signature smile plastered on his nearly perfect face and his eyes were glistening with mischief.

Cole Jackson.

It's been three months since that accident happened. That night, Cole picked me up from a party because I was ditched by, my supposed to be friend, Claire and we ended up in an accident on the way home. The police investigated and said that our car was so fast that it failed to swerve away from an upcoming truck when it turned a curb. Cole died on the spot due to the impact. They said that he used himself to shield me and got the worst damage. How he did it, I don't know. As for me, I got a couple of scars, cuts and bruises and after 3 days of being comatose and four weeks of bed rest, I was good as new - physically that is. Emotionally, I don't think so.