Cover on the side made by ariestrash(:

                                                          Adena's POV

Thunder rolled in the distance while the smell of rain filled the air. I walked up the stairs to the big mahogany wooden double doors of the church. I grabbed onto the handle and pulled it open, seeing the door was heavier than I had expected.

The church was practically empty, minus the three people inside. I slowly started to step forward, feeling the cold tile against my feet. My steps echoed through the church as I passed row after row of empty pews.

Two people sat in the front pews. I couldn’t see their faces due to the fact that they were buried inside two cell phones. I glanced up at the priest.

“She was... Nothing. Nothing to anyone.” He spoke. I turned to the two in the pew and whispered:

“Excuse me?” They didn’t answer. “Hello?” I said, a little louder. But again, no response.

“She was lonely. Never had anyone to care for her.”  

“Excuse me, father?” But the priest continued to describe who ever he was talking about. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?” I shouted. I was disappointed to hear no response. I looked behind the priest and to the open casket that stood behind him.

My feet started to move themselves toward the casket, and I followed. I took my steps slowly as I approached the coffin. I felt bad for whoever was lying there... dead. Apparently no one cared enough for them. Only two people showed up, they’re not really paying attention, and the priest has been bad mouthing them the whole time.

“But her death wasn’t a tragedy. It was...” The priest paused as I peeked into the casket. A gasp escaped my lips as I stared at the face; my face. “A blessing.”

I sat upright with a scream that could scare the boogeyman as the nightmare became reality. Surprisingly, no one came pounding into my room with a bat or a pan. I was drenched in sweat; my hair matted to the back of my neck. The person in the casket was me. I felt another scream wanting to come, so I bolted out of bed and tried to think happy thoughts before I woke every person in the neighborhood.

I looked towards the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand; it was 3:40AM. I sighed, not looking forward to school tomorrow... or well today. Trying to stay awake in class would be a nightmare.

My heart was still pounding rapidly from the dream and no matter how hard I tried to calm myself down, I just couldn’t. The priest’s words were still ringing in my ears. I needed something to distract myself.

That’s when the tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream ran through my mind. Ice cream was always an amazing way to calm down my nerves. I silently opened my door, crept down the stairs, and flicked on the switch in the kitchen.

I glanced around as though someone were watching me and almost laughed; but the nightmare was still fresh in my mind and allowed no laughter. I quietly tip-toed to the freezer and grabbed the chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Next to the fridge, was the drawer of utensils, so I grabbed a large metal spoon and stood by the counter to begin my calming of the nerves...with ice cream.

The taste of the ice cream melting in my mouth was wonderful; it calmed me down right away; but I was still wary. Why was I in the casket? Why was it me? Why? Tears threatened to spill as thoughts filled my mind. I continued stuffing my mouth with ice cream; wanting the taste to take away my thoughts.

“What are you doing!?” Someone yelled, causing me to jump and drop my spoon on the floor. I spun around to see Quinton, my older brother, on the second to last step clenching a bat in his hands. When he saw it was me, he lowered his bat.  “Dog-gone-it,” he sighed in relief. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Quinton came down the stairs and I picked up the spoon off the ground. When I turned around, I couldn’t help but laugh. Usually, Quinton’s midnight black hair was luxuriant, parted on the right side and laying neatly across his head; a few pieces of hair across his forehead. But right now it was a dishevelled mess. I’m more then sure they'd show his picture when explaining what a bad hair day looks like.

I could tell I woke him from the tired look in his clear blue eyes.  But they looked at me in curiosity; probably as to why I was eating a tub of ice cream.

“Are you eating ice cream at..” He glanced at the clock. “4:09 in the morning?”

All I could do was stare. Did he really just ask that?

“No, Quinton, I'm going to take a bath with the ice cream...." Quinton froze, eyebrow raised, as if he couldn't tell if I was serious or not. "Of course I'm eating ice cream! What kind of a question is that?”

He glared at me.

“Well, I was awakened by noises coming from the kitchen. Unlike you, I need my beauty sleep... Why are you up, eating a tub of ice cream?”

“Well, I couldn’t find the nightmare remover so I decided ice cream would have to do. Why are you up with a bat over your head like a maniac?”  

“Nightmare?” Quinton questioned, setting the bat down on the counter. He then grabbed a spoon from the cabinet and began eating the ice cream with me.. “Another one?” I nodded. “Wanna talk about it?” He asked, stuffing his face with ice cream.

“I’d rather not.” I sighed.

“Oh! Come on! You know what the cure for nightmares are? Ice cream and talking to the Q man! You’ve got one down. Now come on! You’ve only got one more task to complete! Let’s go!” I pondered it for a moment. I didn’t want to bother Quinton with my problems. But he was the only person I ever felt like I could talk to. “Well! Let’s go! I don’t have all night.... day?” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well, I was at a funeral...” and with that I recounted the details of the three people, the church, the casket, and the person in the casket; ending with how I got my ice cream.

“You know, we learned in psychology that death in dreams means inner changes and transformation. So maybe you're just turning into like a butterfly or something?” I couldn’t help but laugh at his stupidity as I shoved him aside.

I took another spoonful of ice cream and Quinton put the top on the tub and then set it back in the freezer. I put our spoons in the sink and turned to him. He grabbed his bat off the counter and threw his arm over my shoulders.

“You know I’m always going to protect you, right?” We walked towards the stairs and I took his arm off me.

“I don’t feel very safe in the hands of someone who should have already graduated.” I couldn’t help but smile as Quinton pouted.

“That’s not fair! It’s not my fault I had to repeat the third grade! It shouldn’t even count! I should be a college kid right now!”

“Quinton. I’m kidding.” A smile broke out on his face.

“You know what. Just for that I’m not protecting you. I’ll let all the monsters under your bed eat you!” And with that he moved past me and walked upstairs. I smiled and went upstairs, venturing back into my bed.

I shut my eyes, trying to go back to sleep. At first it worked. All I thought about was how goofy Quinton was and how he always made me feel better.

But then it flashed into my mind.

I could see myself, lying in the coffin again. My face was paler than it already was. My lips were cracked and an ugly pink color.  Some part of me always wanted to die. I didn’t find life inviting anymore; I hadn’t seen a true reason to stick around. But for some reason I always have.

I think I was more freaked out about the fact that no one was there. I had always told myself someone cares, but seeing no one even caring that I was dead just made my heart snap.

All I could picture was the priest, talking about me like I was trash. Then I thought about Kyleigh and Brooke, calling me the same thing. I felt something on my cheek and realized it was tears. All it took was those wet tears on my cheek to let it all out. I sobbed my heart out as quietly as I could.

All the pain that I had ever felt just came tumbling in and I could feel my heart being ripped apart in my chest. I felt like my whole world was collapsing in that moment. The saddest part was that I wanted to reach under my bed and pull out my razor.

My razor wasn’t just a tool I used to hurt myself, it was how I coped.

These moments of crying always bring every bad thing said to me back into my mind. I laid down in my bed; memories flooding my head; the nightmare never far away. The last thing I thought of was the priest saying “Her death wasn’t a tragedy. It was a blessing“ before my tears led me to sleep.

A couple hours later

The students flooded in after the final bell rang as I sat silently at my desk, pulling my sleeves down further and looking around. I didn't need anyone asking me how I got the multiple scars that sat on my wrist.

Mrs. Bridges walked quickly to the podium, starting to talk right away.

“Alright guys! We have A LOT to cover today! So, first is the project.” She walked to her desk and picked up a stack of papers. She then walked over to Mackenzie, taking a piece of paper off the top and handed her the pile. “Will you pass those out for me?”

Mackenzie nodded as she started to hand them out.

“This project is worth three test grades, so it’s going to big time boost your grades. It’s divided up into weeks. The first week, which is now, is getting to know your partner. The second week is going to be answering five questions which I’ll give to you next week. The third you must hang outside of school. The fourth week you’ll be giving the class an update on your project. The fifth week you’ll have to hang out for a day and take a picture as proof. And finally the sixth week you'll be learning a secret about each other. After this, until the end of the school year, you’ll be working on an essay. The essay will be about your experience. It has to be at least two pages, it must include details about each week and it’s due on the last day of school.”

Mackenzie dropped the paper onto my desk and returned the pile to Mrs. Bridges.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Bridges smiled. I looked down at the paper. It gave the instructions for each week, the percentages of the project, and the due date. I couldn’t help but look up at Dylan. He seemed so uninterested in the project at this moment and it made me nervous. “Wow! That’s actually pretty much it! You can’t change partners, projects due when it’s due and if you have any questions just ask. Now! Everyone go sit near your partners. I’m going to give you a topic to discuss today!”

I watched as James grabbed the attention of his buddies. I couldn’t help but be a little curious as to what he was going to do; but I knew it would be something stupid.

I was right.

James stood up onto his seat and rubbed his hands together. Most of the class, not including Mrs. Bridges, watched as he tried to jump from his seat to the one in front of him. As he jumped, his foot got caught on the desk and he ended up smacking his face in the desk in front of his.

Then he fell to the ground. But not before knocking over the desk he had tried to jump into with him. The class broke out into laughter as Mrs. Bridges ran over to him.

“You’re so stupid.” Dylan laughed as Mrs. Bridges helped James up.

“Are you alright! Do you need to go to the nurse?” James stood up.

“I’m okay!” The class continued to laugh and Mrs. Bridges turned to us.

“Come on! Get to your partners!” I looked down at my desk, wondering what I was supposed to do. Am I supposed to go to him? Or is he supposed to come to me? If I get up, I am bound to be noticed. If I don’t, I am bound to be noticed without a partner.

While these thoughts churned in my head, I heard a chair scrape against the ground. I cautiously peeked over to find Dylan sitting in the chair in front of me, waiting for me to acknowledge him.

“Hey, Adena.” I glanced up and nodded, acknowledging that I heard him. Mrs. Bridges helped pick up James's desk and get him into it. She then proceeded to grab the hat off her desk.

“Okay. You guys will pick a topic to discuss for the rest of the class period.” Mrs. Bridges walked around the classroom, allowing one student from each team to pick a topic from the hat. James picked one and then Marcey picked one. As Mrs. Bridges made her way to us, Dylan leaned over to me.

“You can pick the topic.” I quickly glanced at him and saw he was for real, so, I reached into the hat and pulled out a small rectangular piece of paper. It read FOOTBALL.

“We have football.” A smile broke out on Dylan’s face as Mrs. Bridges moved on.

“Sweet! I guess I’ll start this discussion! Well, I am... well I was the quarterback on the football team.”

“Cool. My brother is on the team.” Dylan’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“No way! What’s his name?”

“Quinton.” Dylan thought for a moment.

“Serre?” I nodded and he smiled. “Awesome! I didn’t know you guys were related!” Dylan stared at me for a moment which made me extremely uncomfortable. “I don’t really see the resemblance! No offense or anything.”

“None taken.” Silence broke out between us for a minute until Dylan began to talk:

“So, do you have a favorite football team?”

“Yeah, Michigan State.”

“What! No!” I raised an eyebrow to him. “I’m a Michigan fan!”

“Oh, I need a new partner for this project now!” Dylan started to laugh and I couldn’t help but join in. For the rest of the class period, Dylan and I discussed players and made fun of each other’s teams.

I honestly didn’t think Dylan and I were going to get along. But he seemed a lot nicer than I had thought. When class was over, I carried on my day. But I wasn’t upset like usual.

I was relaxed.

It was nice to talk to someone and have them talk back. It was nice to feel like I wasn’t completely alone. I thought about our conversation and still found myself smiling as the lunch bell rang. I walked outside and sat besides a small bush, like I did everyday.

I pulled out my peanut butter sandwich and began to eat it in silence, same as usual. I found myself falling into a boring routine. But I tried not to let it bother me today.

I had always liked sitting outside. It was a way to take a break and just listen to people laughing and having a good time. Sure, I’d love to have someone sit with me.

But that’s just not in my future. School’s almost over and I’ve made a total of zero friends.

I heard a pair of heels clicking behind me and I silently hoped it was my history teacher Mrs. Jackson. She wore heels everyday so it made sense it would be her. But when I glanced over my shoulder the person I saw wasn’t Mrs. Jackson.

It was Jackie Hanlin.

Following close behind her was Dylan. Jackie’s dirty blonde hair sat past her shoulders and her top was as low cut as they come. Her skirt was only a couple inches away from being considered underwear.

And the worst part was she was coming right towards me. I ducked my head, hoping she would pass right on by, but apparently that wasn’t to be.

“Hey” The voice sounded right in front of me. I took in a deep breath and looked up. Jackie stood right in front of me, staring down at me. Dylan walked up slowly behind her, sending me a gentle smile. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met. I’m Jackie.”

“Adena.” I said, biting into my sandwich.

“You know, Brooke and Kyleigh have been telling me some... things about you” I gulped in fear. “Like how you’ve been buddying up and trying to get in Dylan’s pants.”

“What? That’s not true. We’re just partners-”

“I don’t care what you guys are. Just remember if you try to get with him. You’ll have to deal with me.” I looked to Dylan, hoping he would step in. But he never said a word. He just looked at his feet. “Hey! Loser!” She yelled. “I’m over here.” I turned my attention back to her. “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes.” I whispered.

“It’s not like you even have a chance anyway,” she mumbled loud enough for me to hear. I watched as she turned around and started to walk away; Dylan trailing after her as though he were her puppy dog.

I didn’t understand.

We had such a great conversation, I thought he would have at least said something. I got up, still hurt and confused, and threw away my trash. Deciding I needed to use the restroom, I headed towards the girls’ bathroom; but I wasn’t alone. Kyleigh and Brooke came in after me.

I knew this wasn’t going to go well.

“Awe, it’s our little friend, Aidena here. She looks so sad. Poor her.” Kyleigh smirked. “Someone hurt her feelings,” they continued to toy with me, treating me like a little kid.

“She should run home to mommy. Oh wait! Mommy doesn’t love her. She has no one. I guess she can hug the garbage can, since that is where she belongs; in the trash.” Brooke laughed. They laughed their way out of the bathroom leaving me to ponder and cry.

I only had one thought as I broke down in the bathroom of Barmont High.

“Their words are the truth.”