When love bites, it bites forever...apparently.

One

I looked at the paper and then my mom. And then back again.

"Is this a joke?" I asked.

"Um," Mom looked like she wished it was. "No?"

"Mom," I said. "This is a top school. Like...a TOP school. And my grades are...well...I gave half of my teachers a nervous breakdown and the other half are on drugs. I have to visit Miss. Smith tomorrow in rehab. I can't go here." To emphasis the 'here' I smacked the paper with the back of my hand.

"I know, Ella, but...um- maybe you'll like it! Maybe you really are smart and you never knew it!"

I looked at her. She looked at me.

Her shoulders slumped.

"Maybe we're being Punk'd," She suggested.

"Maybe," I murmured, running my eyes over the paper again.

You have been accepted to Fenson Heights Boarding School...

"Where is it anyway?" I turned the paper over in my hands. "I kind of doesn't say."

"That's strange," Mom thought hard. "I remember someone saying something about it being somewhere...in...Ohio or...yeah..."

"Jee," I said. "Could you vague that up for me?"

You see, I'm not a very smart kid. Okay scratch that.

I'm an educational delinquent who has trouble reciting the alphabet without getting the 'n' and the 'm' completely mixed up. (They SOUND the same, okay?!)

And what do I have to make up for that?

Long black hair similar to something The Grudge might sport and dark grey eyes. Also pale and throw awkward and clumsy into the mix. Oh- and did I forget to mention that I fail at everything else?

Dancing? I once broke my ankle walking down the street.

Acting? When I lie I flush red, stutter and run away before I stop talking.

Singing? I'm banned from the music rooms at school.

I know what you may be thinking: What. A. Loser.

I...have no argument for that.

But you can imagine how amazed I was when I got invited to the boarding school for the obnoxiously smart all the way in Somewhere, Ohio.

No seriously.

It was called 'Somewhere'.

However, never did I once imagine amongst all this craziness that I could meet people who weren't...uh...people and I'd rub shoulders with the undead.

Okay, maybe we didn't exactly 'rub shoulders' at first.

But hey. Like they say: When life gives you lemons you make apple juice.

At least, I think that's what they say.

"Bye!" Mom yelled. "Watch out for bears! Don't talk to any plants!"

(I'm allergic to bears and to make my plants grow I talk to them- she's not just being weird).

"I'll try not to!" I yelled back. "Mom," I said into the phone. "Stop running alongside the plane- it's making people scared."

As I snapped my phone shut I sighed.

Another day, another weird thing to happen.

Weirdness follows me.

I'm flypaper for freaks.

If it's scary, dangerous, evil, malicious or generally bad in any form, it'll find me.

How do you think I found out I was allergic to bears? Not that I was worrying about sneezing at that precise time.

Once I got to the school and they realised that I had trouble spelling three letter words, I was pretty sure I'd be on the next flight back to Michigan ASAP.

I lay back against my seat and closed my eyes.

It was almost like it was just a moment later when I reopened them and an air hostess was prodding me.

"Miss?" She said. "You have to get up now. We've arrived."

"O-oh!" I said, jumping up, catching my combats on the armrest and falling to my right into her so we both careened back into the aisle.

Pretzels flew everywhere.

Like I said, I'm a tad clumsy.

Getting off the plane with a battered hostess glowering at me wasn't very fun, I'll tell you that.

When I reached the air-conditioned whiteness that was the airport terminal I sat on one of the leather seats and watched the steady rush of people flow by.

Apparently someone from the school would pick me up.

I rested my elbow on my knee and then put my chin on my palm and slowly tried to drift off into sleep.

It turned out to be in vain as I heard a metallic click by the side of my ear.

I froze and turned slowly towards the sound.

"Don't move!" A voice hissed harshly. "Or you're dead!"

Consider me a statue.

I sat very still in place. Why weren't people rushing to my rescue? Couldn't they see I was about to die?

Unfortunately no one was looking my way and the barrel of the gun rested on my temple.

The harsh voice chuckled. "You're dead, petty human."