I can't believe it. I'm kind of actually in.
Well, I actually kind of can. I mean, it's not like I'm dreaming or whatever.
I blinked up at the tall buildings of the public high-school, not believing the office had trusted me to sign my own documents.
No wonder there are so much school shootings. No offense or anything.
I've spent the last 3 years of my sad, sad, sad life without any schooling, sleeping and eating wherever and whatever and here I was. At a high school.
I scoffed. At least I was still my dumb self. As always.
If you're wondering why the heck I'm out living by myself, there's a pretty good reason why.
My parents died when I was 13 years old. They used to be hotshot prosecutors and were rich. Just plain rich.
It's nothing to keep secret about, minus the people who hate me. It makes me feel more numb anyway.
I lived in an actual house, had everything a girl could need, and went to school. One day, they were killed by a guy who they helped put in jail. I was put into the system, and no relatives were anywhere even close. My parents hadn't written their will and stuff like that so basically, I was just left alone in the world of 7 billion people. And no one there to help me.
The orphanage was great, good food, nice adults, good kids, it was pretty nice, for the most part.
I call it the orphanage because it sounds more miserable. In real life, it's just the system. Group homes. Foster homes.
Anyway, I ran away and ended up living on the streets, like a street rat.
Shelters were out of the question, however. It's an easy place to track people, and even easier to kidnap them. Just being frank, I guess.
Someone would always be looking for me.
I'm not a safe person. There's a literal bounty on my head. I'm just trying to stay alive.
I know that high-school won't be nice to me. I just won't "fit in" with the rich, popular girls, or even the nerdy- but- pretty girls.
Is there a category for homeless, dirty girls?
The bell rings.
I haven't heard that sound in a pretty long time.
I walk into the building, no backpack or anything. Suddenly, a middle-aged woman strides over to me.
"You must be Charlotte, I'll lead you to your homeroom class. I'm Ms. Murray."
How in the world did she know I was new?
"I know when someone new walks in." she answers, reading my mind exactly.
Kind of scary.
I stay silent though. I feel gazes boring through me. It didn't bother me though. I get stares from adults who wrinkle their nose in disgust.
I mean, I would be disgusted by myself, you know? My dirty black tee, stained jeans, that are WAY too tight, and a torn varsity jacket. I even smell disgusting. It's given.
Mrs. Murray leads me to a door, reading 34. "You'll love Mrs. Ahn." With that, she opens the door and pushes me in.
"Hello, Mrs. Ahn, here's our new student, Charlotte." With that, Mrs. Murray strides back, leaving me regretting everything that I had just committed.
You know how I said that stares didn't bother me? Well, I take that back.
Literally everyone in homeroom was staring at me. I had been shoved into a 11th grade, when I barely even knew any algebra.
I had stopped schooling at 7th grade. How do you expect me to even survive.
Well, I could just skip. Technically, I didn't have to go to school. It was my choice.
I was just about to run off, when the teacher grabbed me by the arm.
I flinched.
"Hello, Charlotte, sit there, next to Ellie," Mrs. Ahn called. A beautiful Asian girl with black hair and olive skin raised her hand.
I looked longingly towards the door. Save me, please wooden object.
Mrs. Ahn stared at me. I shrunk under her gaze and quickly shuffled to the desk she had directed me to.
I wanted to get out of this school. Just something I felt, the atmosphere felt like it was pressing onto of me.
At least it was a good place to hide out for now.
Mrs. Ahn's voice droned on and on. Ms. Murray was wrong. I did not like her very much. In fact, I felt like walking right out.
I'm sixteen years old and I don't know how to find the square root of anything. This is why after homeroom, I'm walking out of this school and forget this ever even happened.
"Class, you are dismissed! Have a very good day!" Mrs. Ahn said, fixing her glasses.
I pushed back my chair and started to exit the room. Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.
I froze.
"Hey," a voice called from behind me, "You okay?"
My eyes fluttered. "Um, yea, yes, I was going to- leave."
"Oh, I'll go with you. You left your schedule on your desk, you'll need it." a voice said.
I didn't dare turn around.
"I don't need it." I said lowly, pushing his hand off of my shoulder.
"Yea you do. I looked at your schedule- sorry- but, we have the same Lit class. We're reading Moby Dick right now, so-" the voice rambled.
"I can find myself around." I said louder, turning around.
I turned around to a familiar face, light brown hair and dark brown eyes, framed with glasses.
I froze again. "I-I need to go."
"Charlotte?" the boy called after me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I probably should have guessed he'd be here! I mean-
My feet began to move, faster and faster. Before I knew it, I was flying out the door.
But I wasn't fast enough.
A hand snaked around my wrist, pulling my fleeing body. I groaned.
"Leave me alone Sam." I whispered lowly, not wanting to draw attention.
"Char, why are you here?" he asked, louder than I would have liked.
"None of your beeswax." I said, pulling my wrist back.
Behold, Samuel Caddell. Or Sam.
Before my parents were murdered, he was my best friend, mainly because our parents were friends.
I sighed. "Sam, let me go. I have to go. Now."
"Char, stop. Stay." he said softly.
I rolled my eyes. "Where were you when I told you that?"
"I know, just please. How long has it been? I was only 13!" he argued, his jaw tightening.
I furrowed my eyebrows and left the school I should never have been at in the first place.