The fresh smell of rain filled my bedroom. I loved the smell of Belleville after the rains. There was a light pitter-patter outside my window. It must be the left over rain from the trees. I went to the window and opened it, trying to get more air inside the room. I definitely wanted more of the fresh air inside my room.

I couldn't believe just yesterday I was with my mother in California and now I'm here in Belleville, New Jersey, living with my grandmother. I didn't want to remember why I came here in the first place. My grandmother walked up to me. She has snowy white hair and crystal blue eyes. She always had a smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me.

"Do you want a ride to school?" She asked with her Jersey accent that I loved so much.

"I can't say no!" I exclaimed. I tried so hard to smile and stay calm. I was trying so hard not to freak out about going to a new school.

We left the house and walked up to her car. I got into the passenger seat, taking a deep breath. It smelled like old lady perfume and the 'new car' smell. With both those scents mixed together, it smelled really good. The car took off, and we reached the school in no time.

"Bye, sweetie." My grandmother said with a smile.

I smiled back and said, "See you later!"

I got out of the car and spotted a group of girls who looked at me, whispering amongst themselves. I knew what they were saying. 'Look at that emo girl.' 'She's so ugly.' All the girls had matching brown tote bags, and glittery phone cases. The girls had designer t-shirts and fancy skirts. Their faces were covered in makeup, making them look fake. I knew right away I was going to be an outcast, just how I was in my old school.

My black hair, Misfits t-shirt and skinny jeans seemed to scream out to everyone that I was different. The shirt and jeans were accompanied by a pair of black converse. My eyes stood out when I wore all black. I was also wearing a few layers of black eyeliner, and a coat of black eye shadow which made my eyes stand out even more, signaling everyone that I was different.

I entered the school building, with the girls staring at me even more. Soon the jocks had also joined the staring contest. I ignored them and said out loud. "Take a picture! It will last longer." No one even bothered to look away. They didn't even come and talk to me, they just stared. God, I hated this placed. I was so happy I had to go to the main office to return my program. I walked into what I thought was the main office. I adjusted my black leather jacket and walked up to the desk, on seeing a woman with blonde hair. She looked a little older than 36, had brown eyes and was wearing a black blazer with black pants. She gave me a warm smile, revealing her glistening white teeth.

"Hi. I'm Helena Scott." I introduced myself to the lady. She looked through the files of programs and handed me the one with my student ID and classes.

"Oh, here you go. Your homeroom class is right down the hall way. It's the last door on the right." She replied back with a New York accent. I thought she was from New Jersey. She looked just like my mom's friend, Sarah.

"Are you from New York?" I accidently blurted out. Here's the thing, sometimes I say whatever's on my mind.

"Yes, why?" She questioned. Great, now I felt stupid. I hated that feeling.

"No reason. Sorry to bother you." I said, turning away from her.

"Oh it's okay, sweetie." She said. She must have understood why I felt so embarrassed. Then again, she didn't look like she cared much.

I left the office and tripped down the hallway. Some girls were still giving me the cold shoulder as they continued staring at me. I walked into the bathroom to check if I had anything on my face. Nope, just my makeup and it looked good enough to me. I just didn't get it. I sighed and entered the hallway, looking for homeroom.

I finally found the classroom I was looking for. Everyone was crowded around one desk. I wondered what was going on. Some kids were in the hall, walking to their own classrooms, or going up the stairs. I walked in and looked around. All the kids were laughing along with either a jock or a bully. I found a kid with glasses and a book hidden away in the back corner of the room. He looked scared but was trying to focus on his book. I walked over to the crowd, pushing past them.

I made it to the front after pushing a ton of people and saw two people. One person looked mean and evil. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked really buff; he must be a part of the football team. The other boy looked fragile. He had jet black, messy shoulder length hair. His hazel eyes were puffy, as if he had been crying. His leather jacket looked messed up and stained. His jeans were splattered in paint. Someone's art pad was in the blue eyed boy's hand. I guessed it was the fragile boy's sketch. The bully flipped through the pages and tore a few of them. He grinned at the fragile boy. The boy sulked and looked down at the floor. The bully glanced through the sketch pad, walked over to the guy with hazel eyes, and kicked him in the knee. He fell as the bully kept kicking him in the stomach. What a terrible person! Why would anyone do that to the poor boy? I felt a rush of adrenaline and felt like punching someone then and there.

"That's what you get for messing with us." The bully said, and was ready to walk away with his 'posse' when I punched him in the face.

"What the hell was that for?!" The bully exclaimed. He crossed his arms, looked at me again and smirked. "Oh hi new girl." He whispered seductively in my ear.

I smacked him again. "Pick on someone your own size, you asshole. And do you hit on every new girl?" I said, more of a statement than a question.

He stormed away and the crowd dispersed taking up their seats in the classroom. They looked afraid and shocked more than worried about themselves. Man, so far, this school is fucked up.

I bent over to help the hazel eyed boy and picked up some of his ripped drawings. Most drawings were really good, making me wonder why he was getting picked on. It must have taken him a lot of time to draw these; he had a lot of talent. A particular drawing caught my eye. It was me. I didn't pay much attention to it, because the boy seemed worried when I touched it.

"Here you go! I'm Helena." I said, holding out my hand so he could shake it.

"Go away!" The boy shouted, grabbed his school bag and art work, and stormed out of the room. I got up and followed him. I walked down the hallway and tried to keep up with him. Suddenly the teacher caught me. She had a tight brown bun and red lips. Her eyes were as black as the night sky.

"Where do you belong?" She asked, tapping her foot on the ground.

"Class." I replied, beginning to get nervous. I didn't want to get into trouble on the first day of school.

"Then get there!" She exclaimed as I scampered away.