Hello! Welcome to the first of the scenario short stories ^^ I thoroughly enjoy these and decided to make one myself :3 Please tell me what you lovely people think of the take of the classic "you-in-the-story" approach and this story as a whole. It's my first! I'm sorry if it's lacking! XD

But all in practice, yes? :D Happy reading~

There are many days you wake up to find yourself questioning if you're really supposed to exist. All you've ever wanted was to feel accepted, not ogled at constantly as if you were a museum display. There was a time when you were proud of your looks, a time when you were only 3 feet tall and full of spunk, and every kid in kindergarten would stare at you in awe, wondering just who exactly the albino girl was.

But those days have long passed.

The children who once admired your long platinum blonde hair and snowy eyes now gawked at you obnoxiously, making obscene gestures as you walked by. Called you a freak of nature. A ghost. A mistake on God's part. Incomplete. Unfinished. Useless. And your previously high self-esteem gradually crumbled into nothing but dust.

Your father thought it would be a good idea to move you and himself to another distant town due to the cheating fiasco your mother stirred. The two of you left the busy city life for the quiet small town a few hours away from your home after your sixteenth birthday. You had hoped that the change in scenery would help, but was sorely disappointed to find that the kids in your new high-school were just as rotten as the ones you left, if not worse. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

However, today was different from the moment you got out of bed.

It was the last class period of the day, listening to the middle-aged man up front drawl on about Southeast Asia. History was always your favorite class, and you consistently took notes from the words on the slide show.

You hear a soft pfft somewhere in the lecture hall and felt a hard jab in the back of your head shortly after. Your pen froze. Your body went rigid at the sound of muffled snickering. You resisted the urge to turn and glare daggers at the boys behind you, setting you jaw in the familiar irritated clench. You returned to your studies.

Pfft!

Another one smacked your earlobe right above the tender spot on your new piercing. You wince in pain and lightly rub the silver bar. These boys had better stop their jerking around. Now.

Your teacher suddenly raises a question to the class. Just as you are about to raise your hand, another spit ball nicks the back of your exposed neck. You slam your hand back down on the desk and whirl around in your seat, giving your signature death glare to the boys who were desperately trying to smother their laughter.

"Will you dicks knock it off?! This isn't kindergarten anymore!" you yell.

The teacher does a double take and walks to your desk, raising his voice as he does. "What was that outburst just now miss Lucille?"

You point defensively at the classmates behind you, who now used their typical façade of innocence. "These guys were throwing spit balls at me."

"We didn't do anything to her," one boy said. "Nobody wants her, much less touch her with stuff." This earned a snicker among the class.

"Yeah? Then explain these then!" You hold all three spit balls in the air with a bright, defiant look in your eyes. You were in the right and they knew it. You felt it deep in your gut. Justice would be served; there was no way they were getting away with this.

Unfortunately, your teacher shared none of your zeal and simply stared back at you with an odd look on his pocketed face. "And what does this prove? You have a history of poor conduct, so I'm sure you can understand why I'm not inclined to believe you claim."

Your face instantly grew dark with anger. "Are you serious right now?!" you scoffed. The evidence was right there is his face! You're practically giving it to him as a present!

"I gotta side with ole' teach on this one. I mean, she probably just chewed the paper herself," a boy muttered.

"I agree. Disgusting little thing isn't she?" you heard a girl whisper.

"She's freakin' paper herself. You think she starves herself to the point where she can only eat paper now?" another girl whispered.

"Ew. Cannibal."

The class was swept with a wave of laughter and teasing as you stood there with your arm still raised. You look to the balding man with a look of sincere pleading.

"Please...I-I'm telling the truth..."

The teacher did nothing but grunt and slip you a piece of all too familiar pink paper and bold letters. You let your arm fall to your side, staring hard at your boots as hot, angry tears threatened to spill. This was the third time this week. You didn't allow yourself to be an emotional girl, but the anger that scorched your chest burned with the intensity to make your shoulders shake and your fists to tighten. You wanted a way to release it and not just bottle it up like you've done for so long. You needed it.

The bell rang, snapping you back to the spot behind your desk. As you haphazardly stuffed your belongings in your bag, the boys behind you knocked into your already fragile frame while they walked past, joking around with each other as if you didn't exist. You sent another signature death glare at their backs, reminding yourself that one day, they will get what's coming.

You leave the detention hall in a hurry with your ear buds in, eager to leave the dark building as soon as possible. Your dad texted you that he wouldn't be home for the weekend, which you promptly rolled your eyes at and stuffed your phone in your pocket. You knew he would be staying with girlfriend #4's house no matter how many times he tried to convince you otherwise. He always came back home well into the night reeking of sex and cigarette smoke. Disgusting pig of a man, you thought. You barely notice how dark it had gotten as you turned the corner to your house. All you want now is a long, hot shower and a good night's sleep, grateful it was a Friday. You make it a few steps on the sidewalk when you notice a large, bulky silhouette further down the street.

Shit.

You knew who they were, and they knew you.

Trying to avoid being noticed, you start to walk faster down the street. You instantly recognize the smell of marijuana and the guttural grunts of teenage boys and the high-pitched laughter of teenage girls, all huddled underneath the shade of a tree. One of them noticed the white shadow clad in black by the fence. They called out to you.

Your stomach drops between your feet and you break into a full sprint down the road.

You didn't bother to look behind you as you dashed into a nearby alleyway, remembering the shortcut to your apartment. You may be small, but you were the fastest thing on two legs in this town. You felt a slight wash of relief as you neared the spiked gate you practiced jumping over for when this happened. You remained calm and confident.

You stopped dead in your tracks as the three boys from earlier came into view, blocking your path. You had a feeling it would come to this one day, so you made sure to prepare for the worst.

Your hand automatically unsheathed the pocket knife clasped to the hilt of your belt and back away from them. They tried to rush you and you set off again, only to stop when a group of about five to six stood their ground. A tiny pinprick of fear ebbed at your mind. You were soon cornered like a rat against a garage door. The autumn chill seeped through your jacket.

Gathering all the courage you could find, you glared boldly at each of them, careful not to show them any weakness. A girl approached you with a smirk on her small face and jutted her chin at your weapon.

"Whatcha gonna do with that little thing?" she teased.

"Get any closer and I'll give you an inside look," you say, pointing the blade in her direction. Two boys rush you and attempt to grab your arms. You quickly turn and cut one of them on the shoulder, but the other wormed his way behind you and pinned both arms behind your back at a painful angle. You open your mouth to protest and the girl smacks you hard across the face.

"Keep your mouth closed. You're in enough trouble as it is, right?" She plucks the weapon from your hand and tilts up your chin with the edge of the blade. "I heard you tried getting my boyfriend in trouble today. Not a smart move at all dear. A bad girl like you needs ample punishment." You snatch your face away from her, not caring about the fresh new cut under your jaw. The girl giggles and walks away, twirling your knife in her hands as a familiar face takes her place. Your eyes widen slightly in fear as he cracks his knuckles.

"I'll just be adding some color to your scrawny ass. Maybe now you'll keep your fucking mouth shut."

The boy delivered a hard punch to your stomach and then to your jaw. You yelped in pain and hissed, tasting the blood pooling in your mouth. He continued to hit and kick you until he began to pant. You couldn't stand up straight any longer, relying on the boy behind you to hold you up. The girls took their turns ripping your clothes and burning pieces of your hair. They raided your book bag and took your electronics, including your cherished iPod. This drew your attention.

"N-no! D-don't lay your-ngh...fucking hands on that...It's mine you fuckers!" you cry. It was the one thing that kept you sane in that building, the one retreat from your hell. They paid you no mind. You helplessly watched them as they tore your ear buds and smashed your iPod to bits of plastic and computer chips. You began to weep silently. This was too much. They'd gone too far.

The boy held your face in his hand, drawing back a fist aimed straight for your eyes.

"Think of us doing you a huge favor. Now all the emo kids will want to fuck you. They're the only ones who'll do a freak anyway!" he laughed.

A spark of rage fluttered through your chest and, without thinking, you spat blood in his face and growled, standing yourself up straight despite the excruciating pain in your abdomen.

"I don't need any favors from you, asshole."

The boy swore and swung his fist. You braced for impact.

You felt nothing but warm liquid splatter across your face.

A chorus of shrieks and gasps echoes around you. You opened your eyes and jerked backwards, nearly screaming yourself. A large knife had somehow lodged itself in the boy's head, his eyes rolled back into his shattered skull and mouth hanging open. You notice the tip of it poked a few inches through his forehead. With a few short gurgles, he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, blood pooling from the back of his head. You stared at the body wide-eyed. The boy behind you dropped you on the ground and you land squarely on your behind, but you barely notice, still staring at the boy who just died. The girls kept shrieking in terror before a deep, resonate voice rang out in the alley.

"Shut the hell up ya dumb bitch. You're way too noisy," someone said.

You watched as the teenagers who were once beating you senseless now turned into nothing but lifeless corpses, all of them slashed and stabbed by a figure too fast to be considered human. It darted between them like a ping-pong ball, landing one-shots with each pause in its fluid movements. Bodies fell one after another, leaking blood from their slashed necks, leaving you and the girl who slapped you cowering beside her dead boyfriend. A hooded figure leaned down and yanked the knife from his head, bits of his skull and brain matter sliding off and landing with audible plops!

From what you could tell, it looked male from behind. He stared at the teary-eyed girl for a moment in silence before giggling softly to himself. She screamed and scooted away from him in a panic, babbling pleas to spare her. He bent down to her eye level and pressed the knife against her throat. He slowly dragged the blade across her skin, earning screams and bursts of crying as he neatly cut through an artery. Above her wailing voice, you could hear him whisper as he watched the girl feebly claw at her throat.

"Go to sleep..."

"...and never wake up," you said softly.

You felt eyes on you and looked up, almost jumping out of your skin when you saw whose face they belonged to. But strangely, you felt no fear whatsoever. An eerie calm took its place. You took in the broad shoulders and the thin black hair than framed his bleached face. There was an intense red smile that was a little disturbing, but reminded you of the Joker from your favorite Batman movies. It was almost as if he had a son. The thought made you smile a little and the boy's grin grew, yet you caught a glimpse of something in his charcoal-rimmed eyes.

Like sadness, almost.

He held his hand out to you and you took it without hesitation. You try to stand on your own stumble, your entire body weak and trembling from the beating. The boy lends you support with his chest and arms, holding you firmly as you peered up at him. After a moment of silence, he backs away and casually hands you a knife from his pocket. Confused, you took it from his blood-stained hands.

"Yknow, that chick had a point. Your teeny knife won't do shit. Use this," he said, turning away from you. You grip the handle and managed to find your voice, though raspy from your earlier screaming.

"Thank you...um...what's your name?"

"You better take care of that one. They don't make high quality blades like those anymore." The boy stuck his hands in the pocket of his white hoody and continued walking away, as if murdering people was the most normal thing in the world for him. You stare down at the blade and run your finger along its blunt edge. On the far right, you noticed cursive writing etched in sliver on the hilt.

Jeff...?

When you look up, he was nowhere to be found.