Alone No More

Chapter 1

I walked through the door, struggling with the heavy iron monstrosity as I cursed its very existence. Today I started my senior year of high school. The worst year to date seeing as how I was enrolled in all advanced classes. That was due to the last school's guidance counselor "seeing something" in me.

I mentally groaned when I saw the crowd of people all fighting to get to one of the tables where staff members told us which room we had homeroom in. According to the whispers of the other foster children, this class would double as our first hour class. The school also ran on block scheduling as well, meaning an hour homeroom and then a three hour class with the same teacher.

The dense crowds made me slightly grateful I looked like a child. My small stature made it much easier to slip through the limited space between all the tall, muscular jocks and wannabe followers of the popular crowd. I could only imagine how much more difficult it would be to reach the front of the line if it weren't for my size. Especially seeing as how, by the time I finally made it to the cheap table, bought by an even cheaper high school, I was practically panting.

The graying woman seated behind the table impatiently looked to me, seeing I wasn't sure what she expected me to say, she snapped, "Name and year!"

"Valkyrie Lane, Senior," I mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, my heart fluttering with anxiety.

"Mr. Dominick Caruso, room 415," she dismissed.

With that, I slipped away in search of my homeroom. The school was rather large, even considering how many students were crowded in the courtyard. According to the other children's gossip, this was some sort of prestigious private school. The only reason we were allowed attendance was the school took "pity" on us. Also known as, they got a large enough tax break to make it worth their while.

It took me a while to find the room, as I had finished the last school year in a different state, not to mention a different school. Once I arrived, I stood in front of the door for a few moments. I was trying to work up the nerve to open the gray object that would fit just as well in a prison as in a school. I knew my fears were misplaced but I still didn't feel comfortable meeting new people. Even after having lived in dozens of different states in the seventeen years of my life, not to mention the several cities and towns lived in while in each state. People didn't like it when I defended myself.

I placed my hand on the doorknob and twisted. It was locked. I glanced again at the number above the door and the nameplate beside it.

ROOM 415; DOMINICK CARUSO.

It was the right room. I supposed Mr. Caruso was just running a bit late. A glance at my watch told me I had arrived quite early. It was 7:15, and students were not even allowed in their classes until 7:35.

Well, I thought, I have no friends here and haven't even been assigned a locker yet...only one thing to do.

I slid to the floor beside the door and reached inside my book bag. I fumbled around inside the front pocket for a while before I found the black iPod Nano the foster family six places back had given me when they learned music calmed me down a small amount. I quickly scrolled through my video playlists until I found my favorite song by my favorite band. I had always found music rather comforting. In particular, I loved rock music more than anything else. The rebellion in the lyrics made me feel as if I could actually control my tail spinning life.

After the video had finished, I went to my song playlists, and selected a set of songs that, in particular, helped my anxiety. Once those finished, I was starting to doze off in the hall.

Around the middle the fourth song, I felt a hand come down on my shoulder. I felt a shock come from the point of contact. All I knew is I was being touched. And I didn't know this person. My mind placed the image of my foster brother from several houses back, James South, and I felt the panic truly take hold.