The world ended when the window shattered. Third period. Math. It happened to be my least favorite class. You see, I'm dyslexic and ADHD. Letters and numbers get jumbled and they sometimes seem to float off the page. English is a subject I struggle with, but math is the worst. I get frustrated just looking at a simple "find x" equation. On top of that, who doesn't like math? Maybe a couple of nerds, but otherwise, no. I can't pay attention either. It's one of the perks of being hyperactive. Well, anyways, I was sitting at my desk minding my own business (when I say that I mean doodling in my notebook), when suddenly, the window shattered.

"Nice going, Cheyenne," sneered Jacqueline. "Now you've shattered the window."

I sighed. I was always blamed for supernatural incidents. Last year, in sixth grade, Jacqueline was teasing me, and the water fountain exploded when I yelled and punched her. I was kicked out of the school (for the sixth time in a row) when the administrators found out. Police officers had to drive me home because I was so angry. Then I moved to Connect Academy. With my luck, Jacqueline moved too. Connect was a school for juvenile delinquents. I guess Jacqueline punched someone too.

So anyways, the window shattered and Jacqueline blamed me.

Ms. Snaffle rolled her eyes. "Cheyenne, if you are going to damage school property, then you can go to the principal's office." She pointed to the door.

"But I didn't do anything!" I protested.

"Come on," said Tiffany, "We all saw you throw that rock at the window."

"What rock?" I said. See what I mean? Not one person trusts my judgment.

"Stop playing dumb," she said.

Ms. Snaffle shot me a death glare.

"Fine," I muttered.

Two of the nerds, Evan and Troy, looked up from their text books and snickered. They were the only ones so far who hadn't looked up from their math books.

"Shut up," I hissed. They shut up. I'm intimidating in that way.

As I walked down the hallway, I thought about what just happened in math. I don't know why everyone hates me so much. What did I ever do to them? I stepped into the office. The office lady, Miss Harold, looked up, gave me an exasperated look, and looked back down at her papers.

"Tell me, Cheyenne, why are you here for the fourth time in a row this week?" she sighed.

"Well, I supposedly threw a rock at the window," I replied.

"And did you?"

"I don't know! I don't even like to touch rocks!"

"Mm-hmm. Well I'm afraid I can't argue with an entire class. You know our rules. Any student who exceeds the limit of three times in the principal's office gets expelled. You especially. You always damage school property."

I gasped. "What!? You can't just send me away! What about high school? Or college? I have a life too you know."

Miss Harold glared at me. If looks could kill, I would have died.

"Young lady, that is quite enough. You're expelled, and that's final. I've already contacted a taxi to take you to the bus station to get you home. I suggest you go pack."

I fought back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I walked back into the math classroom and I felt all eyes turn on me. My face flushed as I picked up my backpack. Jacqueline and her prissy bully friends giggled. I cursed at them under my breath. I talked to my Ms. Snaffle and left.

As the taxi drove me to the bus station, I realized that facing my mother would be the worst. She was always angry at the world, especially after my biological father left her to care for me when I was just two. I've gone through a total of three step-fathers, and all of them were world-class jerks. My mom finally had enough and decided not to get married anymore. She blamed me for all of her problems. I know I am a difficult kid to handle, but it's not my fault. It's not my problem that I'm dyslexic and ADHD. The taxi driver's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Is this the stop you want to get off at, miss?" he asked.

"Yeah," I murmured. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he replied.

I got out of the taxi, telling the driver to keep the change I gave him. The sub-zero wind bit through my fleece jacket, making my teeth chatter. I waited for about twenty minutes in the freezing weather when finally, the bus came. I hopped on, took a seat in the very back, and pulled out a book. Even though I'm dyslexic, I enjoy reading a lot. It calms my nerves and it makes me feel like I actually have a place in the world. The bus stopped at the last stop, which was the closest to my house. My house was on the outskirts of Colorado Springs, and it was in one of the poorest communities. The only person left on the bus was a man with wavy dark brown hair, kind of like mine. He wore on of those Hawaiian souvenir shirts, even though it was something like five below zero. He smelled like the ocean: seawater and sunscreen. Why someone would wear sunscreen in the middle of December, I don't know. I turned around to pack up my things, and when finished, he was still there. He nodded at me, and disappeared. Yeah. I said disappeared. He just simply vanished, in a cloud of beach-smelling smoke. In his place was a glowing blue trident, engraved on the floor. I gaped at the trident for a few seconds, and shook my head. My brain was most likely messing with me.

I walked the remaining mile to my house, and trudged up our steep driveway, just as big fluffy flakes of snow began to fall. Our house had the perfect view of the Rocky Mountains, and it gave me a sense of serenity. The inside of the house, on the other hand, was in complete chaos. The floor was littered with coke cans and popcorn. I guessed my mom had another reunion with her college buddies. Rock music blared from my older step-brother, John's, room. In my younger step-sister, Marie's, room, classical music floated sweetly into the living room, and I calmed down, until I heard a BANG!

She's practicing ballet in her room again, I thought to myself.

Both of my step-siblings were the children of one of my step-fathers. He was one of the extremely abusive ones. He left my mom with two more children to take care of. He would punch me, cuss at me, and once he even kicked me until I felt my ribs crack. I was rushed to the emergency room, and my mother divorced him.

Then my mother came out of her room, looking really, really angry. Her long black hair was tied in a bun and her piercing blue eyes had a slightly maniacal look to them.

"Cheyenne Jamison! In all my years of raising you, this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. The principal just emailed me. You threw a rock at the window!? Why would you even think of doing such a thing?" she screamed.

I pouted. "Mom, I never did anything! It's like someone outside is trying to get me kicked out of every freaking school I go to."

My mother's voice became very calm, a sign that she was really angry. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying you didn't throw a rock at the window? Would you even dare lie to me?"

"Mom, I swear, I didn't do˗˗˗˗"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

I yelped and ran upstairs. I slammed the door and sat down on my bed. Moments after I sat down, I started bawling my eyes out. Why didn't I have a happy life like Jacqueline and Tiffany? Why was I the one who was bullied every single second of my life? Why was I the one who didn't have any friends? I rammed my face into my pillow and wept like a baby, but it felt good. After I calmed down, I wrote a note to my mom.

Mom,

I think I have had enough of going to school and being stressed. I'm leaving. My ADHD is getting worse every day, and I can barely read a sentence in a textbook. I'm having trouble righting this to you right now. Remember that I love you, and I want you to know I will never forget you for taking care of me. I might come back, but if I don't, I'm sorry. This must be so hard on you, but this might release some of your stress in being single and having to take care of three kids. If I leave, you will have fewer kids to take care of. Again, I love you.

Your daughter,

Clara

I taped the note to my bedpost and started packing my things. My belongings consisted of extra warm clothes, a bedroll, and a stuffed animal. I grew up with that stuffed animal; I simply could not part with it. Then I walked down to the kitchen and packed some vital necessities (sunflower seeds and gum are vital). Of course, I was smart enough to fill a bottle of water. John was downstairs religiously watching football like his life depended on it. He raised an eyebrow when I walked past.

"Where ya going?" he asked.

John was a world-class jerk. He always teased me about being single and being "forever alone." I didn't get it. He was nineteen and single, and he teased me about being single? No thirteen year old in their right mind would date in seventh grade, except maybe Jacqueline and Tiffany and a few other popular people. I glared at him. "I'm going to Neverland to meet Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. Where do you think I'm going?"

Hopefully somewhere else," John grumbled. "You are so annoying."

Me? Annoying? You should look at the mirror more often.

I rolled my eyes as I walked back up the stairs.

I made myself stay awake until John went to bed. Unfortunately, my mom was in a very bad mood, so she didn't bother to make him go to bed. He stayed up until one in the morning. By the time I finished packing, pulling on some jeans, a T-shirt, a fleece jacket and tied up my combat boots, I was ready to just drop everything and fall asleep.

Before I left, I looked at some of our photo albums. There was one picture of John, Marie, and I at the zoo, and I was being licked by a giraffe. Another picture was of Marie and I dancing at one of our ballet concerts. I noticed that the paper was wet and I brushed my cheek. I realized I had been crying. I was tempted to run to my mother's room. I knew she loved me, and she would never try to hurt me. Then I thought better of it. This was what I was meant to do, and I wasn't about to let a chance of freedom slip away. I quietly slipped out of my room. I tip-toed into my mother's room. She was sleeping with a distressed look on her face. My eyes became misty as I leaned forward and kissed my mother on the forehead. She was trying her best to keep me going in school and in life. I murmured goodbye into her ear.