Author's Note: Okay, I can't wait for the next Harry Potter book, so I wrote this instead. I hope that you like it. Please read and review! I'll only be motivated to continue if you review. How else am I supposed to know that someone's reading this?

I was known as 'Shelby's annoying twin sister' to everyone at school, and I hated it. Nobody wanted to be my friend. Why? Because Shelby hated me and that was reason enough.

It was June 15th, the last day of school. I hated this day almost as much as I hated the 1st day of school. On the last day of school, everyone but me had friends to cry with about not seeing each other for three months – oh, the horror! – or look forward to seeing at camp.

Me? I didn't have any friends, so the last day of school was pointless in my opinion. I woke up at 7, and brushed my long, brown hair which was always tied up in a ponytail. I ate a quick breakfast of pancakes, and I got on the bus as usual, with my red backpack with my initials on it. RVB. Roxanne Victoria Baker.

"Hey, Roxanne," one of the boys called from the back, "What did you do with your hair, clean your room with it?"

This boy, if I remembered correctly, was Shelby's boyfriend. I rolled my eyes, thinking about how cleaning a room with your hair was impossible, and sat down in an empty seat at the front.

I joined the throng at school as I made my way to my first class- English. Ms. Simmons stood in the front, and taught all about diagramming sentences, which was, in my opinion, a worthless activity.

After English, Miss Popular, Jessica, cornered me in the hallway. Her green eyes flashed with anger, and a few locks of her perfect, blonde hair were out of her ponytail. I had learned to hate those evil, green eyes from the moment that I had met her.

"Look, it's the nerd!" she crooned, stroking my cheek. I slapped her hand away. Her eyes filled with even more anger and she glared at me.

"That was a stupid thing to do, nerd," she told me. She screwed her eyes up tight, and began shrieking. Ten seconds later, her boyfriend, Josh the football player, ran down the hallway. He was big and tough. He wasn't someone who anyone would want to fight with. Even I knew that.

"What happened, Jess?" he asked, concerned.

"Sh-she hit me," Jessica whimpered. He looked at me, and I realized how cruel Jessica could be. Then, I saw the fist.

Pain flooded through me. I felt my nose bend out of shape, and red-hot tears began streaming down my face. I suddenly heard a girly scream. Only, it wasn't Jessica's voice. Opening my eyes, I saw Josh lying on the ground, his football uniform scorched with invisible flames.

Still crying, I ran to math class. I was used to having to make myself stop crying, so by the time I was in math class, the only sign that anything had happened was my bloody nose. Of course, I'd told my math teacher a long time ago that my nose constantly bled, so he never paid any attention to it anymore. If I told anyone what Jessica was doing to me, I knew that Jessica would only make it worse.

Mr. Norman was handing back our tests on geometry. As usual, I got an A+. It was yet another reason for Jessica to torture me and to make my life hell.

After math class was lunch, and I got in line with the rest of the fifth grade. It was the last day of school, but it didn't feel like it. After getting a cold turkey sandwich and lumpy-looking potatoes, I found an empty table to sit at.

The food was tasteless, as was any food that I ate without any friends. I hadn't had friends since I was six months old, and that was when Shelby was actually nice to me.

Right after lunch, we were told to pack up our things from our lockers, and to give back any books that we'd borrowed from the school.

Half an hour later, I climbed on the bus for the last time. Summer, I thought, was the best time of the year because there was no Jessica to torture me.

Shelby gave all of her friends hugs and her e-mail before getting off of the bus, but I was off as the bus slowed to a stop. Pushing up my glasses, I walked slowly into my house. Little did I know, but this summer was going to be much shorter than I had anticipated. Tears that had built up over the day exploded as I ran inside my house. Not that Mom would ever care, though. She was, as most people were, oblivious to anything that I ever did.

I knew that once the summer was over, the horrible cycle that I now called 'Jessica's Torture Cycle' would begin.

This was how Jessica's Torture Cycle went. First, I would get a good grade. Then, Jessica would make me show it to her. She'd laugh with her friends about it and call me a geek. I'd try to fight back, and she'd call over her football-star boyfriend to come beat me up. It got worse if I told anyone.

As soon as I got up to my room, I threw my backpack across the room, and collapsed on my bed. Man, I hated Jessica.

"Hey, Jessica," Shelby called from outside my closed door, "If you weren't such a geek, Jessica wouldn't bug you."

"Leave me alone!" I yelled back. Subconsciously, I saw the lights flicker.

"There's no need to get mad," Shelby shouted back. I detected a hint of fear in her voice. "Ahh!" Shelby screamed a horrible, high-pitched scream.

Angrily, I flung open my door, and saw a leak right above her head. It gushed out onto her head.

"Cut it out, Roxanne!" she yelled, shielding her head with her hands.

"I'm not doing anything, you idiot, Shelby!"

"Mom, tell her to stop!" Shelby yelled downstairs. Immediately, the leak stopped. I grinned. Not only was Shelby's hair wet and messed up, but she had no proof that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

I smirked, and slammed the door in her face.

Things like that were very frequent for me. If someone was being mean, things that I couldn't explain happened to them, such as; Josh being electrocuted when he punched me, Jessica's hair standing up straight after cutting me in line, the gym teacher's rope climb breaking right before my turn, and, most commonly of all, a leak appearing right above Shelby's head.

Groaning about how nasty Shelby was going to be during dinner, I fell asleep. I usually fell asleep after school, and who wouldn't if they were me? Who wouldn't be exhausted after being punched in the nose by a football player after slapping said football player's girlfriend?

'Maybe sixth grade will be better than fifth,' I muttered to myself, as I drifted off into dreamland. Little did I know, but sixth grade was going to be much better than fifth.