Mia Winchell strolled up to the school, looking down at her shoes. She was concentrating on keeping one foot in front of the other on the pavement. As she heard her foot drag across the road, a streak of red dashed across her line of sight. She tried to shake her head and blink to make it go away, but the jingle of her hair pin made a sweet noise that caused a wave of blue to block her vision. She looked up at the sky; why does it seem that the first day of school is always so pretty up there, but not so pretty down here? She sighed, and looked ahead, her new high school looming in the distance. She easily kept her cool in stressful situations, but she wasn't sure about today; would anyone like her? The word "freak" played over and over again in her mind, reminding her of all the people who DIDN'T like her. This probably wasn't the most optimistic thing to think about, but unlike the colors she saw, no matter how many times she tried to blink out "freak", it wouldn't go away. Ever.
At that exact moment, a girl stepped out of her apartment three blocks away. She had long blonde hair that was tied up in a blue bow that matched her baby blue eyes; this girl's name was Alice. As Alice walked into the sun, she squinted and moved her backpack onto a more comfortable position on her back. She shrugged and took her first step towards her new school. However, as the girl stepped down, she felt like she had missed the street, and looked at the ground; she has stepped into a hole.
"Damn rabbits," she cursed, and pulled her already-filthy-but-now-even-more-so shoe out of the grass. As she wiped off the dirt and composed herself, she saw a mother struggling to get her kids into the minivan across the street from Alice. She heard a child having a tantrum in the back of the car, screaming about having "no room". She had heard that phrase before, and it brought back haunting memories of her family; her real family. Yes, she had a foster family, and they were alright, but she missed Mother and Father and her baby sister, Hattie. One night, when she was only six years old, her mother had become angry with Alice and her sister; apparently, she'd "had enough". She recalls the conversation still today:
"I have had enough! There's no room for both of you in this family! No room!"
"Mother, you're being silly, there's plenty of room for two children in a family."
"There's no room for you here, Alice! No room! NO ROOM!"
And that was that. Her parents had literally given up on her, and since then, she'd been traveling from foster home to foster home, year after year, wishing that her parents would one day pick her up and tell her that there WAS room; room that only she could take up. Room for Alice. She took her second step towards her new school (much more successful than her first), and kicked a rock into a gutter on the side of the road, not looking forward to the day ahead of her.
In a nearby diner, Will Shepherd slumped down into a filthy booth and dropped his backpack on the ground beside him. He heard a crack he knew he shouldn't have and opened the zipper, revealing a broken beer bottle he had smuggled inside days earlier. He cursed, tugging at his hair and finally remembering he'd put that in there for his afternoon buzz. He flagged down a waiter and ordered the same thing he ordered every day: an English muffin (toasted) with cheese and a beer. He was only in high school, but he was tall and could easily pass as twenty-one. When his breakfast got to the table, the waiter shot a suspicious glance at Will's backpack, then shrugged and walked over to the next booth. Will opened the beer bottle and took a swig, then slowly started ripping off the label (one of his strange, undying habits). He tucked a strand of wavy black hair behind his ear. He looked at his reflection in the spoon the waiter had given him (do most people eat English muffins using spoons?); he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. As he bit into his English muffin, he thought about the first day of school; would it be like last year? Would he be as lonely as he was last year or would he, could he, make some friends? He doubted it; not many people wanted to be friends with a dull, teenage alcoholic who wasn't even legally allowed to drink. He took another gulp of his beer; he assumed this year would be like ever other year, dull. Suddenly, Will started to feel nauseous and found his breakfast on the seat next to him.