Her name was Lydia. She was 17. She was just an ordinary girl. At least until she attended West Ville High for the first time. She was warned. But she didn't listen.

I reached the door and saw a plack at the corner of my eye which wrote of course '13'. 13 was the number that had ruined half my childhood, at 13 months old I fell down some stairs and broke 3 ribs, 13 days after my mom's wedding I was kidnapped I came back 13 WEEKS later when I escaped, when I was my 13th birthday I was hospitalised with meningitis and on the 13th of November literally 2 months ago my best friend went missing, and back to the house it already felt weird once I stepped inside, whoever lived here hadn't even bothered moving anything out; there was still photos and weird art plastered around the room. I think I was just ready for this day to finally end.

Join Chase and Carli in their quirky journey towards discovering themselves and each other.