I was never popular. Neither could I be called beautiful. But unlike most unpopulars, it was of my own choice.

Sure, being a nobody, a total loner, isn't an easy task.

There's that danger of the populars coming down the hall and happening to notice you when you come within a short vicinity to them, or, you happen to have a very bad luck when they happen to spot you even from afar. Then no one can save you. Neither will anyone want to save you. You will have no choice but to withstand their wrath.

Then there are the bullies who find fun picking people who seem like kitten in front of them. Personally, I think they are a bunch of insecure, cowardly brats who get some sick kick out of it, it makes them feel in control -powerful. And power is never a good thing if in the wrong hands.

Yet, even after often getting targeted, I still couldn't find it in me to resent being a nobody. I was at peace with it after finally accepting the truth -I could never fit in with these people.

I'd had a quiet and basic life, despite all the cliques' usual drama. It wasn't the usual normal, but it was my normal; an aunt, who loves me to death, a small, neat bedroom with my personal en suite, my skateboard and lastly, my guitar. These were the joys of my life. Seem pretty boring to an outsider, but I'd been living this life since I was a toddler.

Mom and Dad... well, I don't even know who they are. As soon as I was born, I was placed into my aunt's arms, who was apparently infertile and wanted some joy in life. Her husband had divorced her for her inability to give birth. She didn't marry again, and fled away from my biological parents as soon as I was given to her. They wanted to forget me and start anew.

One would think, I despised my parents. They gave me up so easily. Didn't their hearts crumble when they gave me away for good? Didn't they cry to death and regret their decision after I was long gone?

I didn't hate them though.

Heck, I didn't know how to feel. But seeing my aunt so happy with me in her arms in pictures and in reality, so devoted to me as if she were my real mother, I didn't need parents. I had found my parents in her.

She went all out with me. The entire house was filled with pictures of me and my aunt, from birth, to current. She gave me the best that she could; best clothes, best food, all the free time of her day, love, trust and affection, attention and appreciation. She gave me everything I asked or didn't ask for within her power.

She told me the truth when I was only ten. She even had me calling her auntie when I didn't know. I didn't call her auntie after I knew the truth, though. I called her mama. And I've never been any happier with my decision. The tears of joy and the warm sparkle in her teal blue eyes, the smile that trembled with the sobs she was choking on, it was a painful, yet beautiful sight.

So being a nobody at elementary school and through my freshmen and sophomore years at high school wasn't hard. After years of practice, I knew when, how and where to stay away from threats.

However, if there was anything I'd ever longed, it was friendship. I never made a single friend. Even if I wanted to. Because I knew, if I made a friend, it would mean to open up to a stranger. And that was pretty scary to me. The idea haunted me so much that after the elementary school, when we moved to a new town, I decided to hide away. No one has seen my face since, except for auntie. No one knew how I looked.

It was meant to be that way, until I trapped myself with my own words and heart.