I dragged my pencil across the paper—crossing out a verse I was writing in my new song—only to find the tip of my pencil breaking. I sighed. I then threw my notebook across the room and flopped onto my bed, shoving my face in my pillow.

"Mmhmm..." I started humming as I sat up in my bed. I think I finally found the perfect melody I needed for my song. I raced out of bed and picked up my notebook that was laying in front of my closet after throwing it. I reached for my pencil, remembering it broke. I then opened my door and started walking down the hallway to my mom's computer desk.

There were no pencils in her pencil holder.

I groaned, "Mom, where are all the pencils?" I shouted up the stairs.

"I put them in your book-bag. I told you that earlier. You have school tomorrow." She said as she walked downstairs. I ran over to the calendar. This can't be right. My first day of school can't be tomorrow... can it?

Apparently, it can.

  "No..." I mumbled and walked slowly into my room. I do not want to be a Junior. An eleventh grader. In high school. In a public high school. I have been home-schooled my entire life. Well... except for middle school. And I do not want to think about that. A chill went down my spine as I remembered all the times I was bullied and beat up.

I leaned against my closed door blocking out the noise of my parents talking about my first day of school and me needing to be more "socially active" as they put it. Okay, so maybe I don't have friends... but who needs friends when you have music? It was a lie I told to make myself feel better. I pushed myself away from the door and reached for my guitar in the corner of my room. I grabbed it and—

"Abby, get some sleep. I'll wake you up early tomorrow for school. Aren't you excited?" My mom asked as she walked in my room. She was looking at her phone. I didn't reply but thought of an answer in my mind.

No. No I was not.