My eyes fluttered open at exactly 6 am, which I knew without having to check as they had for as long as I could remember.

I stayed perfectly still for a good minute, knowing that to move would to bring pain, and, if I was totally honest, because a part of me felt that moving would make this real, just like every painful morning.

With a sigh, I finally gave up, knowing that putting it off would change nothing in the end.

I got up out of my bed, the thin straw mattress and dirty, hole-ridden sheet my father says suits me perfectly, and stretched, my side's hurting from the beating last night and hunger gnawing at my insides from lack of food for, what was it, 3 days? But I didn't pay it any mind, this was daily for me. At least my face didn't have any bruises on it, so I could avoid the stares I would get.

Heh. Like they really cared.

A thought came to me, and I perked up slightly, sad as the thought was. I was guaranteed to get fed every day at school!

Or, well, I would if I had money. This never seemed to cross my mind until AFTER I'd gotten my hopes up. Stupid brain.

I hastily took a 3 minute shower, the water freezing as usual but familiar against my skin, and as I got out, I stopped to look at my reflection in the broken mirror. Staring back at me was a tall, hauntingly beautiful redhead, her amber eyes that could stare right into someone's soul, quite literally, looking like lifeless gems. High cheekbones sticking out of her drawn face from lack of food, plump breasts standing out against the obvious ribs, a slim waist and rounded hips led to legs that looked like they stretched on for miles. All this beauty, wasted on me. I hated how I looked. I didn't deserve it.

I tore my gaze away from my reflection and quickly went over to the single chest of drawers that could easily hold all of my possessions and more. Pulling on a pair of oversized sweats to hide my legs, I matched it with a dull grey, oversized sweatshirt, after putting on my binder to hide the unfairly large bosom, wincing as pressure was applied to my singing bruises. I slipped on my one pair of worn toms, and rushed downstairs to make my father's breakfast.

After the plate full of bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes and toast was set to perfection--Werewolves eat a lot--I snagged the smallest piece of bacon and toast, knowing but not caring that if he found out he would pull out the baseball bat he kept in the corner for what he liked to call "special occasions."

I grabbed the dilapidated bookbag that I'd had for 3 years running and booked it out the door, arriving at a the deserted stretch of squashed grass from years of trampling by hoards of teenagers, knowing that the bus wasn't due for another 20 minutes.

I stood in my usual spot underneath the old oak, just staring off into space. I did this a lot, it was a form of distraction for me considering I had no friends and never would, but this was exactly how I wanted it. I hated the spotlight, hated attention, and the only way to avoid it was to be invisible.

A few kids started to come out, but as usual only gave me a cursory glance or just out right ignored me.

When the bus pulled up I was the last one on, but I had held a reserved seat at the back for 3 years since the time in my first year when I had been forced to sit next to a boy who's aura was so strong I couldn't help but impart on him a bit of wisdom that was taken the wrong way, leading to me being labeled a freak and outcast.

No one was sitting in the back except for this one nerdy looking kid who kept shooting me nervous glances, probably intimidated by my quiet demeanor and the fact that half my face was covered by the hood of my sweatshirt. I tuned into him a bit, disgusted with myself at how easy it was, and discovered he had a bit of a darkish, murky yellow aura, sensing this to mean he studied overly hard almost to the point of fatigue. His parents were probably over achievers. Poor kid.

When the bus pulled up, like usual, I was the last one off the bus. Good to see nothing changed over the summer. I quickly went up the front steps, avoiding touching anyone, though it didn't really matter because they unconsciously moved out my way anyway. It was like I moved in a little bubble.

I had already memorized my schedule over the summer, that's how boring it was, so I headed to my first class; art. As I exited the stairwell I took a breath only to be overwhelmed by an overpowering, delicious smell. It was musky, with a hint of pine, but not like cab driver pine, and basically smelled like a forest, but a sexy forest. I had no idea how to explain it, but it was addictive and all I knew was that I wanted more.

I tried to shrug it off as the warning bell rang and continued to the art class room, the smell fading slightly as I moved down the hallway. I slipped into my art class unnoticed and took a seat next to the window in the very back. I hated leaving my back exposed to others, as I had learned at a young age that turning my back to my father was a bad idea and that if I could see him coming it might lessen the damage done. So, it stuck. Paranoid I am and paranoid I shall stay.

The door of the classroom opened and the teacher came in right as the bell rang. With a calm feel around her, she was rocking the hippy look. Flowery purple skirt swishing around pale legs and a loose brown peasant blouse hung around a slim figure with wavy, bordering on curly blonde hair hung free to the center of her back. She looked careless, her soothing lavender aura that was radiating from her showing just how relaxed she was, and for a second I felt a twinge of envy, until I reminded myself who I was, what I was, and why I could never be like her. That thought slammed home all the reasons I hated myself, and I slipped back into my emotionless façade like a pair of well loved jeans.

She flashed a bright smile and perfect white teeth while gracefully gliding over to the desk to perch on the ledge. In a smooth voice she spoke to us, "Good morning, my children. I hope you all have had a marvelous summer, hmm?" There were grunts of agreement around the room and she smiled again.

"Well, as you all know I am Miss Lewis, your 12th grade art teacher, and today I just want to get to know you all. We're going to go around the room and when it is your turn I would like you to say your name and one thing you, hmm... Are passionate about! Why don't we start with you, dear?" She pointed to a girl in the front row with her hair up in a messy spiral with a pencil stuck through it that I had never seen before.

"Oh, um, my name's, um, Elisabeth, and I am very, ah, passionate about drawing." She finished lamely with her cheeks flushed and her eyes cast downwards.

"How delighted I am to hear that! Thank you dear, and who are you, sweety?" She asked the next girl 3 seats down the row, dressed all in black and chewing her gum so loudly I wouldn't haved needed my enhanced senses to hear it.

She delayed her answer by checking her cuticles until the silence was so deafening she had no choice but to look up and say in a bored voice, "I'm Lucia and I like listening to music."

The teacher smiled widely and said in a cheery voice, "Splendid! And who might you be?" she addressed the guy behind Lucia.

He looked up and said, "I'm Josh and I love movies!" with a little grin.

At this point I tuned them out and looked out the window, which had a terrible view of the back parking lot and generators, and thought about nothing until I heard the girl sitting 2 seats in front of me answer the teacher before she looked at me and said, "And finally, who might you be, love?" causing everyone to turn to me.

I just stared up at her from underneath my hood until the guy, Josh, finally took pity on the teacher and decided to clue her in, "Um, Ms. Lewis? That's Dianna, she hasn't talked since 4rd grade, that I know of anyway."

"Oh!" she exclaimed looking over at him and then back at me. "Well, I'm sorry, forgive me. Ah, well, erm, I suppose now that we're all acquainted, I think we should go over the rules, yes?"

I tuned her out again and as I looked over at the Josh guy, I realized that now that I thought about, he did look familiar. I felt a rush of gratitude, along with guilt at having not remembered him, and right then he looked up and caught me staring at him, and gave me a little hesitant half smile.

I quickly turned away and shrunk even lower into my seat, turning back to look out the window as I felt my cheeks heating up and, shocked, I reached up a pale hand to brush against the unfamiliar heat.

For the rest of the class, I was either listening to the teacher or trying not to sneak glances over at him. That was the first time in a long time someone had shown me any kindness and, heaven forbid, smiled at me, let alone acknowledge my existence. I don't know why I felt so--what, grateful? I didn't even know, but I did know that it was as unfamiliar a sensation as eating chocolate, which I had only had once so long ago, I didn't remember what it tasted like, just that it was pure bliss.

Later, as I was leaving the class room, I had my head down, lost in thought, trusting that no one would breach my bubble, when as I was turning the corner, someone crashed into me, causing us both to fall to the floor in a big heap.

Panic filled me as I felt my bare hand brush against an arm, and the tingling started as the foreign feelings of fading elation, mixed with that of shock, flooded my system, and I started hyperventilating of my own accord.

I froze, and felt my eyes roll back slightly as sense of deja vu overcame me and I saw a scene playing out in front of me.

A little boy wearing a large pin that read Birthday boy! came wheeling around the corner of a large house in what looked like the midst of a game of tag before colliding with someone much larger, who turned to glare at him harshly as he started scolding the boy, whose face had been wiped of all the happiness of a few seconds ago.

I was quickly jerked back to the present as whoever had rammed into me pulled away and stood up, muttering out a quick apology before sticking their hand out towards me.

I stared at the hand for a long time, my brain running in circles around what had just happened in what could have only been a few seconds, and trying to make sense of the overpowering aura coming from the tall, dark and handsome standing over me and dear lord, what is that delicious SMELL?

~Authors note~

Hehe, ahh... Please don't kill me! Here, take my cat as a sacrifice, I don't need both! I know, I know, I'm a horrible person, I really need to start updating and stuff, I just... I'm sowwy! You can thank Soafaloaf for forcing me to update, just leave me alone, I'm too young to die!

Ehem, so, is this a good first chapter? The meeting too early? Do some parts drag on when others don't make sense? TELL ME!

But really, if you could leave me some thoughts, opinions, constructive criticism (and that does NOT mean saying there's a comma missing in paragraph blah) I'd love to hear what you guys have to say!

And I don't give 2 shits if only 3 people read this, I still want your words!

Alrighty then, I suppose that's all, ooh, I forgot!

THANKS FOR READING, LIKE, OMG YOU GUYS ARE, LIKE, SOOO TOTES AMAZEBALLS I REALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'D DO WITHOUT YOU PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!

Right, so on that note, hasta la vista!

Love, Emily

P.S. GIMME KISSY!