• It hurts everytime I try to remember. I hide the memory, but it comes back all the time. I want it gone!
    I wish it didn't end like it did. I have never wanted someone more than him, and there he goes.
    If you want to listen to my story, open up your ears. I enjoy having an audience, and maybe after the memory will stop haunting me.

    Chapter One- New


    I sat there in the back corner of the dark classroom, not even paying attention to the frantic whispers around me. It has only been my first day at this school, coming in mid-term.
    I stared at the wooden desk, trying to drown out the voices.
    Of course I could still hear them.
    I lay my head on the wood, my curly brown hair falling to conceal me. I tried to keep my emerald eyes to the table, and to stop my curiosity to overpower me.
    The days were long here. Litterally. I had only been here for a day and a half, and it seemed like forever with those whispers following you throughout your day.
    After a day of that, you wish for a good gun to shot yourself with.
    The reason why they whispered - which I could hear from their whispers - was that I was always dressed in dark colours, as well as - practically every boy I met - found me hot. They didn't even know me.
    A light knock sounded at the door, echo's of it as silence emerged from the rest of the people, to look at this person.
    Ms. Addison - she is the teacher, and a bad one at that - got up off her a** to answer the door. She walked to it, and opened it.
    I cringed. That door was in desperate need of oil! It creaked and groaned as she opened it.
    But, the rest of the school was falling to pieces as well.
    A soft male voice sounded from the person behind the door in a whisper. Ms. Addison nodded, allowing him in.
    I lifted my head up to see who this was, because aparently it was another new one, like me.
    I put my head right back down.
    He was taller than the teacher, I estimated - like me - about five foot seven. He had midnight bronze hair to his shoulders, and peircing emerald eyes under that hair. His face was round and perfect, and he wore a tight black shirt, showing how muscular he was. He had black pants as well, and dark DC shoes.
    He sat at the desk beside me, the only one available, and the whispers started again.
    I could tell by the sound of the movement, that he was also looking at his desk - those whispers got annoying.


    It was a long hour, maybe because I never lifted my head off the table, because the whispers had been very different from five minutes ago.
    But - finally - the bell rang, signalising the end of class, and lunch break. I got up to go, waiting for the other people to pass first.
    He stood next to me, waiting as well, for they were blocking the door, probably because there were people passing in the hall.
    After it had cleared, I walked through, to my locker.
    I had number two twenty-two, my favorite number.
    He stood next to my locker, with a peculiar expression.
    "Hello. Are you Xalia?"
    I turned around to see who the hell wanted to talk to me, when the others just whispered around me.
    Oh. It was the new guy. How the hell did he know my name?
    "Sometimes I wish otherwise." I answered the question, walking towards the back of the school. He followed.
    "True. I'm Jasper." He told me, with a gentle smile on his face.
    "Nice to meet you." I nodded as I said this, opening the door to the back. No one went here, the reason why I did.
    He followed me, probably not willing to be surrounded by whispers for an hour.
    I sat down on the soft grass, motioning for him to sit as well. He sat with his back leaning against the brick walls of the school, like me.
    "So, why did you decide to come here mid-term?" I asked.
    "Same reason you did."
    How did he know about these things?
    "Which is...?" I tested.
    "Parents moved. I followed - not that I had a choice."
    "Ah." I smiled at the response.
    We sat in silence.
    It was a shock to me, seeing that someone talked to me - but we were both new, so it was normal. I still didn't know how he could tell.
    "I don't know how I can tell." He told me, smiling.
    I was good at seeing through lies, and I don't know why. Maybe I was just a freak.
    Behind that, meant; I heard about it.
    Typical.
    I thought I heard some fast, quick thing, so I turned towards the door of where we were, expecting a crowd there.
    Nothing.
    My imagination.
    "Doesn't that get annoying?" I muttered sarcastically.
    "At least they don't insult you." He told me, closing his eyes and resting his head on the rough wall.
    "What do they say?" I had never listened to them.
    "Listen real hard."
    I listened long and hard to whatever he meant.
    And gasped.