This whole town is practically nothing but woods. The forests looking as if never ending, the towering trees soaring into the high sky and looking as though would nevermore cease to exist. The complete fifteen minute drive from my new residence to what is high school has been filled with nothing but the hushed conversation and continuous view of saplings with thick trunks and uncountable burly leafs. A rich, earthy colored green permanently plastered on my side window even with the vehicle moving at at least a decent forty miles per hour. My left arm was securely wrapped around my slim waist and left utterly stock-still on my right thigh. With my dark brown leather book bay glued against my side the top handle was being strangled by my right hand, squeezing in such a way as if trying to rid it of its mere nonexistent life.

Swirling inside me was more than a few emotions, all of which tied to events soon to arrive. Nerves. Nervous about exposing myself to the world I've been forced from for what felt like centuries. Panic. Dreading having to face what's yet to happen and knowing I have no control of how it will. Vulnerable. Open to being hurt by those who wish it.Terror. Scared I might mess up and cause history to repeat itself and knowing who'd be there lurking over my every move and misstep.

My fathers wrath isn't something I'd wish on even my worst enemy. He's a man known for taking things a step or more too far, going pass the boundaries he refuses to acknowledge. Over the years on the rode I've witnessed firsthand what he's able to do and accomplishing when he sets his mind to it. There were times I've seen and even unwilling compelled into helping with things that no human being should be able to do to another. Times that left blood embedded under your nails for days at a time, were we've been force to stop and bury things that we hope to never be found.

Through all the tough and overwhelming times I wish I could say I remained the victim. That my hands were clean and there was nothing you could hold against me, but them again I'm not the best of liars. Where my father bounded me into doing things no one with a soul would do. How I've had to pick up the shovel and conceal my own unwanted reminders. But there's also not a day that goes by where I wish I didn't die that day oh so many years ago. Sure, I've survived. Sure, I'm alive and breathing. But deep down I truly believe I died long ago. Died the day everything fell apart. The day that was filled with nothing but heavy sorrow and loss. The day I watched my mother be put six feet under.

People say death changes you. I don't think they really know what they're saying until they lose someone, someone as close to you as the one who gave you life. My mom and me were best friends. We'd watch scary, romantic, action filled movies and make popcorn that would have extra butter. She'd say the corniest things but somehow they would always get me to laugh. She had that affect on people, even in the most awkward or hard times she would somehow loosen the tension and drum up conversation about the randoms of things. She was my role model, someone people could look up to.

The memories containing the incident of my mothers death isn't an affair I enjoy talking about. I mean who would? After it happened, all I heard was how sorry people were and how they give their condolences. But don't they realize how every time they insist on telling me just how sorry they are all it dose is bring back the recollection of what happened. The memorization returning in a blink of an eye, reopening the wound and digging deeper each time. From that moment on you never really come back. Everyone looks at you different, treats you as though your fine china or going to brake down into tears in seconds.

But that's the main problem, the one thing that'll never be able to go back. You could rebuild your life, move on and start to smile again. Get through the holidays and family meals without the lonesome gaping hole. And still it wouln't make a difference. Its as though permanently ingrained on my face, as if shouting from the rooftops, I"M THE GIRL WHO LOST HER MOM! ME! THE ONE WITH THE FATHER WHO BLAMES HER!

I straighten my shoulders and take a deep calming breath, holding back the tears. Crying isn't something I should waste time doing, dosen't change the horrendous reality I've been forced to live. I release the hold on my bags handle and slid it down to the sling, pulling it over my scapula while standing up as the bus came to a direct stop.

Everyone filled out, leaving me the last person to walk down the buses short staircase and onto the sidewalk. Its not a shocker no one let me cut in front of them, I'm new after all. There's not a familiar face in sight. Walking through the crowd wasn't as though in the many books even I myself read. No whispering or creepy long stars about or coming my way.

Most won't even regard me as being the new student until around first period. I'm just hoping they don't expect me to give some small speech or statement about myself. In my old, what feels like ancient school, they'd introduce them and make them stand up and say a few things about themselves. Sometimes I find it absurd of just how over extreme peoples obliviousness can stretch. Don't they discern that their new and standing in front of the entire class and saying a few irrelevant jumble of words helps none in making so called "friends".

Society has an urge to stay in packs, reside in numbers. We all have an instinct to meet and socialize with others. Some people have an almost wordless advance while others are the exact opposite but either way we all do it, just in our own way. Like, if you were asked whether you'd rather be all alone in the world or with ten strangers which would you chose? One answer is more likely to be chosen than the other.

The air held a chill, the breeze making the American flag drift close to wildly in the wind. All around where groups of friends chattering and clustered together in thick jackets, raiding of heat. The school was a bland color between an exceedingly light brown and a pale skin tone. There was an massive area filled with just the parking lot, where everyone was either hanging back for the last few moment are walking through to reach the building. When listening you could hear the cars zooming by, the lawnmower cutting the fields grass, the distant yakking and the pounding of feet against the gravel covered lot.

My feet moved on their own record, making their way around the cars and other students. Wandering through the front doors and inside which was like a setback to when I used to do this almost everyday with the same routine. Gazing at the trophy cases, the locker lined walls, the main office, the open doors in front of me with row after row of empty seats and a deserted stage. It was all so.. familiar. I pursed my lips when a smile threatened to form, tucking back a loose stand and went in search of my locker.

265..

266..

267..

268.. bingo.

I grabbed the materials I would need for my first couple of classes, placing them in the top department. Striding down the hall gave me a minor amount of glances than before which put more speed in my step in hopes of escaping. But I knew sooner rather than later I'd have to face them and accept this as my life now. Coming here everyday and having to deal with the school and whatever came with it.

When I entered the classroom I took the first open seat that I saw, one that resided between both the front and the back. Taking out both my book and pencil the rest of the class filled in and the teacher walked in front of his desk, folding his arms across his chest. Any source of noise ceased almost instantly, all eyes turning towards the brooding looking teacher. He than twist only part of his body around and grabbed a silver colored bin, taking three swift strides forward and placing it only the nearest desk.

"Those who did their homework put it here," he grumbled, "Those of you who didn't will be staying after the bell and presenting their case as to why the hell not."

Instantaneously everyone got up out of their seats and placed their sheets of paper into the bin and seemed to release a sigh when doing so. Note: don't forget to do homework for first period. From than on class went by smoothly, I took notes on basically everything the man happened to both say and mumble. Doing well in school has never been a problem for me, whenever it meant helping me escape the devil in my life I always gave a hundred percent of effort. Being excepted into a college would be a blessing from God himself.

Besides having to stay behind and write down I was new and didn't have any idea there was an assignment due today, the rest of the day went be sleekly. I avoided people as best I could, pretending not to hear them or walking in a different direction when someone tried o talk to me or ask my name. I didn't feel as though I was ready to meet people quite yet, as if I was still trying to hang on to the remaining bits of the solitude life I've lived for the past two years.

When the last bell rung I slowed my pace, not wanting to get home so soon. I took my time going to my locker and putting away the things I didn't need and the ones I did. Even after zippering up my bag and pulling it over my shoulder I didn't notice someone coming my way. Closing my locker and taking the last steps forward that turned me around with my eyes focused downwards is when I saw the feet of someone only a decent twelve inches away. My gaze slowly traveled upward until I connected eyes with the one before me.

His where a crystal blue, clear like water and sharp just as the jagged rocks cutting through the oceans waves. Bundles of curly back hair pilled above his head, looking soft to the touch. Lips that were a pale pink, making you wonder just how good of a kiss they gave and taunting you to find out. I was caught up in his appearance I didn't notice his gradually getting closer. I didn't notice how I let him, staying rooted in my spot.

He brought his hand up, tilting my head back with his finger on my chin. His eyes boor into mine as four simple words rolled off his tongue and compellingly forced my eyes to drift down to his lips and watch ever so teasingly the small movement they made when doing so. "What's your name love?"

Trapped within the trace I slipped before I could catch myself. My lips moving without my consent and shattering my control while changing my life from that point on. All from one single word..

"Lilly.."