Alrighty. Here goes the beginning notes, okay? Pretty much the same as last time. This one's a lot the same, but I have added and fixed parts of this story I thought needed fixing, because this was written in a time where I obviously have no idea where my thoughts were.
One: This is going to start off DIRECTLY where 'Hunting for the Day - Re-Vamped' left off. (again)
Two: The first two chapters are almost EXACTLY the same as the beginning chapters of 'Beneath the Twilight - Re-Vamped' because I'm creative like that.
BUT!
Pay attention, because there is a change here or there.
And finally, THREE: This is going to be a LOT longer than 'Beneath the Twilight - Re-Vamped'. And from what I can tell, quite a bit longer than the original version of this story, purely because of the places that needed fixing and added to.
And that's about it. So... On to the wonderful, but necessary:
DIsCLAIMER!
I own NOTHING! I don't own Twilight, or ANYTHING affiliated with it! I only own Leandra, except sometimes, she runs away with my imagination, and refuses to let the damn story end where I wanted to leave it. Okay? Is that good? Or..
Yeah, whatever. It's good enough.
ONWARD!

Chapter One

Shaking off the dream I had the night before, I stood there for a moment, clinging to the door frame of my bedroom. Carefully choosing my breaths, waiting for the intense pain to become tolerable. Both physically and emotionally.

It had been hard, so unbelievably hard to tell myself that none of that had been real. The crushing, debilitating disappointment squeezed my heart, making it difficult to breathe. Coughing a sob, I listened to the sound of it return to me. I looked around me desperately, searching for some possible way this could be fake.

That's all it was. That's all it had been. A dream.

I'd had a family. I'd had a life. I'd had something worth living for.

I'd had dreams of them before. Of the kindness they showed me, but even as it faded even faster, I had to admit that it had been more vivid, more real than the others I'd had in the past. Regardless, it had been a dream. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be here.

Who were they? These people I dreamed about? Probably nobody worth thinking about. People I made up.

There were bits that I'd forgotten right away. Most of it, most of the major details had faded. Gone the moment I opened my eyes, but some stuck. The color gold. I didn't know anything about what that had to do with anything, but it was something that stuck out.

I remembered how it felt to be supported, to be cared about. All the events, every single one, and every lesson I'd learned faded slower, but faded nonetheless. Leaving behind a kind of sickening pain that wasn't very easily recovered from.

I struggled now to hold onto the feeling of being safe. That was one of the main emotions that stuck out to me. I needed that, but I had to struggle to hold onto it.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't often I had nice dreams like that. My mind obviously cracking, turning against me in rebellion of what Jack put me through. Showing me what life could be like, but tearing it away from me the second I opened my eyes. It wasn't fair!

Jack. My mother's husband, my stepfather. My burden. The one that holds the leash, the key to the cage. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get away from it. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was afraid to. I knew for a fact that I could end it all with just one little confession to my teacher at school. I could make it stop, but I couldn't. Not knowing what he was capable of.

I lived in a world of torture, guilt and shame. Torture at his hands, guilty over my own reluctance to tell anyone, and shame because I wasn't strong enough to get passed that fear. Day in and day out. I hid everything from everyone like I was the guilty one. Like I was the one to blame. I didn't want anyone knowing what kind of a person I was.

The resonating pain I felt at losing everything, even more thoroughly by the second, made it hard to breathe. The familiar emotional tightening in my throat was hard, very difficult to fight through. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to.

This dream, this painful little movie while I slept wasn't real. Whatever it had been, wasn't real. None of it. Those people didn't know who I was any more than I knew who they were. I had no clue even what they looked like, or even if they existed. No names, nothing specific. Just the emotions, the feeling I felt with them, which told me it was dream I really didn't want to wake up from.

With a deep, shaky and sobbing breath, I forced myself forward. Clinging to the one thing I could still recall clearly, the color gold, I kept moving. Losing all the apparent strength I'd found in that dream, I forced myself to face the facts. I was unlovable. Unwanted. Worthless. I was alone. I always would be.

At that thought, a sob tore free. I'd been doing so well up until that point, but that thought nearly crumbled me. My heart broke, sending waves of emotional pain through me.

I didn't remember anymore what I'd lost by waking up, but I wanted it back.

Coughing another sob, I limped from my bedroom, attempting to ignore my mother's quiet snores behind me on the couch in the living room as I made my way into the bathroom for a quick shower. I've felt this way before.

I couldn't stop living because of a dream. I had to continue living for myself. I should have been grateful to wake up at all, but I couldn't help hating the fact just a little. Quite a bit, actually. I had to keep moving, though.

New and old bruises covered every inch of me that could be covered, even a few places I had to be creative at hiding. Meeting my own lifeless clear green eyes in the mirror, I slowly eased my hand up, and moved my mid-back-length dark auburn hair from in front of my face. Shoulder to toe screaming in pain, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

This was a daily ritual for me. This wasn't new.

Proving to myself by taking a deep breath as I held my reflection's gaze that I was still alive. Just breathing proved it. Just breathing made it true. I was still alive. Just like all the times before, I didn't know how I felt about that.

I dared not hope that anyone would care enough to look passed my blatant lies, but some part of me refused to give up. It was a constant fight with myself. One with no progress. Hoping someone would look close enough, but fully determined to shove away anyone who looked. I didn't want them to see. I didn't want them to know.

I would survive these years. Despite how I often never wanted to, I would. If I hadn't died yet, I doubted much of anything would kill me.

I showered quickly, hating the way the ice cold water caused even more pain than before.

The harsh spray of the icy water made it difficult to take a breath as it poured over my welts. It was more of a rinse than a shower, letting the previous day run into the drain with the water. As I could only bear the pain for five minutes. If that. Clenching my teeth around the sharp cry of agony that attempted to claw its way out. Pain made my stomach burn in a way I always hated, threatening to turn it on me.

And as I stood there, placing water-resistant concealer over older, fading bruises on my cheek, a pleadingly desperate prayer that had always sat in the back of my mind came forward once more.

Please. Let someone see me today.

Anybody. A teacher, a classmate. A passer-by on the street. Anybody. I didn't care who, just somebody who would look passed my carefully constructed facade of attitude. Somebody who wouldn't fall for my lies. Somebody who would just take a second glance. See passed the attempts I always made to push them away, and see that I wasn't okay. I wasn't alright.

To see that I needed somebody to just look at me. To see me, the real me, the frightened me. The me that desperately needed a helping hand, but had always been too afraid to ask for it. To afraid, and too ashamed.

I hated giving that much thought, especially after the dream I had, because once that thought was through, another thought would squash it flat.

Today would be no different than any other day. I'd go to school, and I'd suffer. I'd survive that minimal suffering, and return home to Jack's sadistic anger, and suffer then too. I'd survive that Hell, and I'd return to school, where I'd suffer some more. That was my life. Sad, disgusting and depressing. That was my life. It'd never change, so I never understood why I bothered to hold even a shred of a hope.

I was the runt that nobody saw. The equivalent of a stray kitten on the rain-soaked street that nobody stopped to pick up, despite my drenched fur and obvious desperation and malnutrition. The kind that would run from anyone who attempted to pick me up, but look back at once they gave up. Wondering why nobody ever tried harder. Wondering why I was never wanted, or cared about.

I saw my life like a shattered mirror. Broken, pieces missing. Damaged beyond repair, and no amount of glue would put it back together. Long before I ever even knew what was happening, it just turned out this way. I was raised this way. I was brought up so far incomplete and broken.

I left the bathroom, and I dressed in my long-sleeved dark brown sweater, and baggy, holey jeans. I hated wearing things twice in a row. I'd washed them, of course, but it didn't matter to a lot of my classmates. All they saw was the fact I wore them again.

I didn't have much to my name. A few torn articles of clothing, and that was about it. My tennis shoes, which should have been a size too small but still fit easily, were nearly giving in, and I hoped they had another year left in them.

I hardly ever got new clothes, and when I did, they were never new. They were always whatever Jack could find in the dumpster behind the thrift store. Clothes that no one would ever be caught dead wearing. As it was, I was wearing the best piece of clothing I owned. My sweater. The sleeves overtook my hands, but was thin enough to not do much in the way of keeping me warm.

It was very comfortable, though. Loose on me, so it didn't irritate the brand new bruises and welts, but covered them very effectively. It was about three sizes too big for me, falling to about my upper thigh. I didn't mind that so much, though. I liked it.

I pulled my dark pink wool hat over my loose hair, and I was set.

I took a deep breath, allowing myself a handful of sobs, before leaving my bedroom. After this, I wouldn't get the chance to cry like this until I was home again, so I had to get it out now. Closing the door behind me with a deep sniffle, I rounded the corner and stepped quietly over to where my mother laid on the couch.

Despite her heartbreaking choices, I still loved her. Despite the way she consistently ensured that she'd never see me, I still loved her. I shook my head, grabbed the small blanket off the end of the couch, and laid it over her.

"You drank too much last night." I told her quietly, knowing she never heard me. She continued to snore, oblivious to my presence. I sighed and turned, looking to the pack of cigarettes she had sitting on the coffee table within her reach. I lifted the pack, and the lighter sitting beside it. Looking to the clock, I had time.

My snarling stomach never ceased to ache. For as long as I could remember, I'd been hungry. Jack purposefully kept the house void of any kind of food. My best hope was that he brought left-over lunch home, and gave me a few scraps, or the school lunch.

The lunches the school provided never satisfied my hunger, and definitely wasn't enough to live on. Today, we were supposed to bring a packed lunch, for the field trip, so that killed any hope of eating today. I'd just have to deal with it. The best I could do to deal with it, was give my mouth something to do. It was the only thing I had. Although sometimes, it did make me sick.

I gingerly took a seat on the loveseat near my mom, and lit up a cigarette. I smoked quickly, sitting there calmly, nibbling on my thumbnail between drags. I knew that even if my mom woke up and saw me doing this, she wouldn't have enough energy to care.

Her pale skin told me she'd had too much to drink the night before, and would probably wake up soon only to puke, grab another beer, and fall back to sleep. She was killing herself with her choices and habits, completely forgetting that she had a daughter that needed her.

It never had been much different, anyway. Remember, I told myself, I'm the runt that nobody wants. Even my own mother didn't want me, and did everything she could to get away from me.

I smoked for maybe five minutes, listening to her snore beside me on the couch, before deciding to just take it with me. I shoved the half-full pack into a small, faded black backpack, and headed for the door. She'd probably wonder where her cigarettes ran off to, but she knew where to grab more. Maybe it'd help my cause to make her get her ass up and get another pack.

"Have a good day, mom." I murmured as I opened the front door, "Try not to drink too much." No one answered me. It was as if the house were empty. I had no doubts that she'd still be there when I got home from school.

Luckily, my little school was just up the road from my house. So I could make it there within twenty minutes if I walked fast enough.

I managed to finish my cigarette before it really started to rain, sticking to the shelter of the trees on the side of the highway until it was done. Cars passed me, and just like any other day, no one slowed down or even attempted to prevent themselves from spraying me with the mist off their tires.

It was days like this, I truly hated my life. Days after beatings like the one last night always seemed darker, more nauseating. One thought that always managed to make my heart ache, was that my father was out there somewhere. My real father, not the monster I lived with.

My father had left, divorcing my mother when I was just a toddler. I'd not heard from, or seen him since I was three years old. Even then, I wasn't sure the memories I had of him were real. Six years was a long time to forget that time in my life.

I'd seen a picture or two of him, and found that I'd taken most of his looks. Hardly any of my mother found in my features. I was sure I had some of my mother's looks, but I hadn't looked that hard in awhile. She wasn't a bad looking person. Just drunk all the time, which made her light skin even paler, giving her very sickly appearance. I could always tell when she'd had more than usual.

I had my father's hair color. His dark auburn hair versus my mother's lighter brown. His clear green eyes, versus my mother's brown.

I always felt a heavy sense of bitterness when I thought of how he seemed to forget about the fact that he had a daughter out there, and never bothered to check up on her. I hated him for leaving me and my mother, but he just had to be better than Jack. A pack of wolves would be better than Jack.

My shoes were useless in protecting my socks from getting hopelessly soaked as I stepped in puddle after puddle. I considered skipping school today as I arrived within sight of the small building. I knew I couldn't, though. They'd call Jack, and he'd be pissed.

"Leandra! You're all wet!" I ignored Rachel's irritating voice as I walked passed the playground, and headed toward the front doors of the small elementary school.

I hated Rachel with a passion. She was always relentlessly mean to me. Coming from one of the best families in town, and having the attitude to match. Pretty, to boot. Long blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes always made me jealous of her. Not to mention, she'd always had the best clothes. Her parents tirelessly providing for her and her older brother who had started middle school that year.

I wished I was pretty, but I knew that even if I were, I'd probably not even be able to hold a light to Rachel's looks. Even if I didn't have all my scars, or bruises, I would never be as pretty as Rachel.

Which was why I hated her.

There weren't many of us here, maybe 25 kids to this school, and it covered Kindergarten through sixth grade. That was it for us in this town.

Sappho was just a little side town, a community to the larger town of Forks, Washington. Fifteen minutes away, tops. The parents in town demanded at least an elementary school be built, just so they wouldn't have to pay the three cents extra a year in taxes for the buses to take us to Forks instead.

I was glad, however, that this school existed. Walking to the elementary school in Forks would have sucked. I didn't know what I'd do when I had to start going to the middle school in two years. Maybe by then, I'd be tougher, and have the stamina to walk that far twice a day five days a week. Right then, there was no way.

By the time I walked into the front doors of the school, the other kids had noticed me as well. Calling after me in a sneer as they played on the covered, bright colored jungle gym. Squealing like animals when the cold rain would somehow drip on them off the overhang. As always, I kept my gaze down, walked faster with my hands stuffed deep into the pockets of my jeans. I headed inside to try to dry off before the bell rang.

Walking through the small main hallway, my wet shoes made quiet squeaking noises on the shiny linoleum. Just being here, though, seemed to comfort me. It wasn't the blood-stained house I came from. I made my way into my classroom, glad the door was open.

"Hi there, Leandra." The teacher, Mr. Daniels spoke, looking up from his desk, "Didn't feel up to playing outside today?" I shook my head, sitting down at my desk.

I took my hat from my head, letting my hair fall down in front of my face, and laying my hat flat on my desk. Taking my little backpack off, I laid it under my desk at my feet. Keeping tabs on it by tucking my foot through one of the loops. I'd know if it was moved, and I'd punch the one moving it.

I often came inside first thing upon getting to school, so this was nothing new to him. My lack of a jacket stopped bothering him long ago, and much like he always did, he sighed and looked back down at whatever was on his desk. I never bothered him, sitting in here, so he never minded. I was quiet, and all I ever did was just sit here. Sometimes snoozing, other times staring at my hat. Absentmindedly smoothing it flat over the desk.

The longer I sat there in the silence, the more I felt myself unwinding. Relaxing from the hectic weekend I'd just had, receiving one of the worst beatings I'd gotten in awhile. I could still feel each slam of the belt against my skin. I could still hear the way he grunted with effort as he brought it down over me. It still echoed in the back of my mind, along with my cries for mercy, and I hoped I'd have at least a night off, but I doubted it. Those were few and far between.

I stared down at my hands as I slowly smoothed my hat out, making sure to stay sitting up straight, and keeping my back off the back of the seat. That would have been intolerable. Not with how fresh these welts were.

"Are you excited for the field trip today?" Mr. Daniels asked me, and I jumped. Not expecting his attempt at a conversation. I just shrugged gingerly, keeping my eyes on my hands. I was never excited for anything anymore, to be honest. In fact, I hated the field trip today. If it weren't for the stupid field trip, I would be able to look forward to eating something today. I wouldn't be missing out on lunch if it weren't for this stupid field trip.

"Did you have a nice weekend?" He asked, and I began to fear he was looking too closely.

"Always do." I mumbled quietly. I nearly choked on the words, hating the way my lie burned in my mouth. Inside, I was screaming, crying so unbelievably hard. On the outside, however, I merely continued to smooth my hat over my desk. Perhaps only a bit more tensely flattening it.

"That's good." He replied, a small smile on his face. He stopped trying to make conversation after that, probably sensing I wasn't up for talking.

I never spoke much during school. I never acted out, and I never caused any problems. I was always afraid that if I spoke too much, I'd start screaming and never stop, so I kept silent. I never bothered anyone. I didn't ask to be made fun of. I just wanted to be left alone.

The bell rang a few minutes later, calling all the little urchins into class. I kept my gaze down as the desks around me became occupied. I tucked my little bag closer between my feet, paranoid somebody was going to try and take it from me. I knew we'd only be sitting here for maybe half an hour, before we all had to get up again and go out to the bus.

Mr. Daniels began his stupid speech about manners and behaving ourselves once everyone shut up enough to listen. How we all wanted to make a good impression on the high school students. I would have much preferred to just stay where I was. I already knew I was going to hate the high school as much as I hated this one. It would never be anything more to me than somewhere to go to let myself heal a little bit from Jack's actions. Before being forced to go right back home for more.

I tried running away from home once. When I was five. I never made it passed the back steps. The night around me had scared me deeply, and I froze where I stood until Jack lifted me and carried me back inside. Where I received a beating, the threat of losing my life if I ever tried that again, and locked in my room for two days. Needless to day, I never tried that again.

"You have nothing to be nervous about." Mr. Daniels smiled at me, patting my shoulder as he saw my hesitation outside beside the bus. I swallowed the shout of pain and sighed, resigned to my fate.

It certainly didn't help that I was the smallest in my class. In my school, actually. Most kids were over 4 foot, I was still stuck far under that. I'd always been small, probably thanks to Jack starving me most of my life. I didn't grow as I should have started to by now. Not like everyone else.

One bus could easily hold all of us. I just knew today was going to bite.

"Come on, Leandra." Mr. Daniels urged me and I sighed again, stepping forward and climbing the steep steps. Walking down the aisle until I got near the back, I chose myself a seat on the left and sat down near the window.

I fixed my hair until it was covering my face once again and I stared out the window, already in my own world, ignoring everyone around me. I wished I could say the others ignored me too, but that wasn't the case. I did sometimes have my blissfully ignored moments, but a lot of the other girls didn't think I was "cool" enough to be left alone. Rachel especially.

The bullying got bad sometimes, but it wasn't anything like I received at home, so I was thankful it hadn't escalated.

I didn't even look over when the seat next to me became occupied. I just gingerly slid down in my seat, my knees resting in the middle of the seat in front of me as I stared up at the window.

Too soon, we were all on our way. The highway, the main road through both towns made it easy to get from Sappho to Forks. There wasn't much to our little community, but a gas station, general store, and the school. The rest was made up of houses. Anything else required a trip into Forks, or the other bigger cities.

"Hi, Leandra." I sighed at the voice of Rachel in the occupied seat beside me. I was considerably smaller than she was. I was the runt of the class, which already called for some picking on me, but her, she just chose to pick on me because she knew I hated it.

"Hi, Rachel." I murmured, trying to be polite.

"So." She said, "You wore that shirt on Friday. Do you own anything else?"

"No." I said sarcastically, "There wasn't any fabric left after they made your shirt."

She laughed, "You know, I don't know why you bother coming to school at all. You're not smart enough to learn anything." Her sneer was beginning to irritate me. I honestly had no idea what made the other kids attempt to bring me lower than I already was.

I didn't know what to say to that, to be honest. I didn't give a fuck what she thought of me. Was I really supposed to give her a reply? What, deny what she said, and open myself to more poorly thought up insults at the same time? Whatever.

I just shook my head, sighing a little as I looked back up at the window. Naturally, she kept trying. Pushing buttons in an attempt to get to me.

"You're so ugly. That's why you have to wear that make-up." She laughed, switching seats. I slid back down in my seat. I already knew that, thank you.

"At least I have an excuse." I said a little louder than I should have, "What's yours, Rachel?"

"Excuse me?" She asked, standing back up and sitting beside me again.

"You heard me." I murmured, not bothering to look at her.

"I don't think I did." She growled, "Repeat that."

"I said, at least I have an excuse. What is yours, you ugly-ass buffalo?" I looked at her as a couple of boys a few seats ahead of us started cracking up. Rolling in their seat with laughter.

I flinched at the rough slap she gave me. Involuntary tears coming to my eyes. Though her slap was nowhere near the strength I was used to, it triggered my instinct to cry. After a moment of her laughing at the few tears that trailed down my cheeks, I looked at her again, glaring now.

"Don't just take that, Leandra." One of the boys a few seats away called, "Hit her back."

Without thinking, I brought my fist across her face. The way it'd always been done to me. As hard as I could. I didn't think. She hit me first, so I hit her back. Just like I was told.

She started to cry harder than I had, and immediately unoccupied the seat beside me.

"I'm sorry, Rachel." I snapped, "Was I too rough on your pretty little face? Good. Hope you rot in hell."

I continued to cry as well, glaring back out the window. Though it wasn't near the degree of Rachel's tears. I'd dealt with a lot worse than what she gave me. Rachel's horde of friends glared my way as they comforted her. I did feel a little embarrassed at the disappointed audience that this hadn't turned into a real fight, but I couldn't do that right then if I wanted to. She'd probably sit on me, and I'd be out.

I hated the way she thought she could hit me and not get hit in return. There was only one person who was allowed to hit me, and that was Jack. I cried quietly, hating Rachel even more.

All I wanted, ever, was to be left alone. Why couldn't anyone see that? I would live out my sentence in purgatory, and all I asked was to not be bothered. Was that so much to ask for? I didn't think it was. I found myself thinking thoughts that I often did.

I didn't have much of a future where I was living. I didn't have much of anything where I was living. I didn't have anything to look forward to, except beatings every day. Maybe the next one would kill me. Maybe this next one would be the last, and I could finally just let everything go. I cried harder thinking about that, ignoring Rachel's sniffling laugh behind me at the sight of me still crying.

Though I was only nine years old, I already found myself aching on a daily basis for it all to end. I was so tired already, having been through so much in just nine years, I didn't care what the rest of my life had in store for me. I didn't care. I just wanted a way out.

Count on teachers not to be paying attention to what was happening in the back of the bus. The twenty minute ride was uneventful from there. I calmed down, Rachel ignored me.

We pulled out front of the high school, and everyone started standing before the bus had even stopped moving. I knew what the high schoolers were probably thinking. 'Great, a bus-load of brats.'

I stood, and as I went to step out into the aisle, Rachel placed her hand on my head, shoving me roughly back into the seat. Again, I swallowed back the loud cry of pain that exploded through me once I landed against the side of the bus, squeezing left over tears out of my eyes as I fought for breath.

A choking, quiet sob left me once I managed to stand again, having to pull myself up by the back of the seat in front of me. I was the last to climb off, dabbing tears from my cheeks, hoping the concealer had stayed after my emotional bus ride.

As soon as I made my way off the steps, Mr. Daniels took me aside. Sighing heavily as he crossed his arms loosely over his broad chest, not at all happy.

"Leandra, did you hit Rachel?" He asked quietly. Shit. She ratted.

"Yes." I said, "But she hit me first." A tremble rolled through me as I hoped that Mr. Daniels didn't decide to call Jack, but he'd obviously already thought of an equally irritating punishment.

"You girls need to learn to get along." He sighed again, "I've switched you to her group for the day."

"What?" I asked, looking up at him, "That's not fair!"

"I'm sorry, Leandra." He said, turning back to the rest of the class. I huffed and stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets. Great. Just fucking perfect. What chance I had at any kind of fun I'd have today was just smashed into little tiny pieces.

I gripped my little backpack closer to me, leaving my eyes down. Glaring at the ground, I waited for the teachers to hurry up and make sure we were all accounted for. It'd never happened before, but I wondered what they'd do if they ever lost one of us before the field trip even really started. I half hoped a bear would pop out of the trees and run off with Rachel, but that was mean of me. I even imagined I'd trip her when she tried to run. Oops.

I was half tempted to run off, just to see what they did. I never would, but I was honestly curious. I doubted they would even notice anyway.

"Alright." I looked back up, squinting up at Mr. Daniels, "Find your groups. Know your leader. They're the ones that will be escorting you around campus." We each were given a paper, telling us where to go and when. On this paper was a map of the school, in case any of us got separated. It also had a list of our group member's names, with the exception of one name on my list being crossed off, and my name written below it. The one I took the place of, Julie, didn't seem to mind the fact that she'd changed groups. She got changed to a group with one of her friends, so she was happier than I was about this arrangement.

Lucky me, Mr. Daniels was the one we followed. Probably to keep an eye on Rachel and I.

There were only enough of us fourth graders for three groups of four, so it'd be easy to keep track of everyone. Only one group would visit a class at once, alternating between each class. By the end of the day, we'd have visited all of the classes. It was a way to let us get to know the high school for later on. Educational, and supposedly, fun.

Holding the piece of paper in my hands, I studied it as we began to walk. Unfortunately, Rachel and I were pressed tighter together in the group. I felt a foot place itself in front of mine, and I hit the ground with a whimpering cough. The landing spread pain throughout my body once more, and I couldn't hold back the quiet sob. That was quickly getting old, and I looked up, glaring after Rachel with my teeth clenched.

Picking myself up off the wet pavement, I watched Rachel as she grinned my way, continuing on with the group. One of the other teachers, Mrs. Kline, helped me up.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" She asked, concerned.

"No." I grumbled, dusting off my jeans.

"What happened?" She asked, frowning as she watched me try and collect myself.

I bent down and picked up the piece of paper, now wet and crinkled. I smoothed it out, biting back tears as I quickly continued on to catch up to Mr. Daniels. Of course, the fact that he was deep in conversation with Mr. Carter was reason enough to not have seen that.

I watched as most of the class split up before heading into one of the several buildings with my group. I made sure to keep distance between Rachel and me for the time being. Hating her even worse with each throb of pain that pounded through me. I felt my patience with her thinning, and the day had just started.

I wasn't usually one to have a temper, but she was pushing it. She wasn't normally this persistent, and I half wondered why she was such a bitch today. I quickly decided I didn't care the reason why. All I cared about was the fact that if she didn't knock it off soon, I'd probably wind up getting into trouble.

Wouldn't that be fitting? Pushing her down a flight of stairs, and me getting into trouble for it. Picturing that, imagining pushing her down a flight of stairs brightened my day just a little bit. I just wanted to see that stupid head of hers bounce off each step. That wasn't so much to ask for, was it?

I sighed and followed, sticking close by Mr. Daniels as we made our way into the first class. Looking around carefully, the older kids' eyes were on us as we stepped into the room. Some seeming annoyed, others enthusiastic about our arrival. The high school students all sat watching as we made our way in. Some of their faces lit up at our apparent "cuteness".

"Class, your first group is here." The teacher announced to them, "Move into your groups, and choose a student." The desks had already been rearranged, pushed into large groups of four. One of us for a group of theirs. I looked down, already hating this day.

I stepped closer to Mr. Daniels, but that didn't hide me enough not to be chosen.

A boy in my group was chosen first, before I heard a very feminine voice call.

"The small, darker haired girl." I looked up, realizing I was the only dark haired girl in my group. I looked to the group that had someone standing, and was greeted with a very kind, enthusiastic smile from the girl that stood watching me.

I found someone deeply familiar. Her eyes on me, my eyes on her. The depression melted from my eyes, and recognition entered them. I knew she saw it. Her smile faded ever so slightly, watching the emotions in my eyes.

I didn't know where I knew her from, but I knew her. It scared me. Giving another quick glance around, I stumbled a step back. Right back into Mr. Daniels.

"Go on." He urged, and I looked up at him.

"God," Rachel snorted, "I'll go. What a baby." That was unacceptable to me. I got moving then, stepping forward quickly. Blocking her path, spinning and shoving her back with much effort. All without a word. I gave her a look, and she looked nervously toward Mr. Daniels. Not daring to say a word either.

For once, I shut her up.

I slowly turned again, stiffly making my way to the open seat beside the girl who chose me. I didn't know what to think, but the color of her eyes was the same color I recalled from my dream. The very same. I sat down slowly, barely managing to hide the wince as I did so. I looked up at her, trying so hard to remember where I'd seen her.

"Have I ever met you before?" I whispered to her when the focus was off of me.

She hummed a little in thought, her smile still there, "No, I don't think so."

"That's what I thought." I mumbled, sitting straighter. I was so concerned about my sanity at that point, I had no idea what to think anymore. Maybe it was nothing. Probably nothing. It had just shaken me a little to see that color again.

"Why do you ask?" She asked, laughing a bit.

I closed my eyes in slight humiliation, "I don't even know." She studied me, but didn't comment. That had to sound so crazy. God, what was I thinking?

"What is your name?" She asked me, and I glanced up again, before looking back down at the table. Should I answer her? She had the gold eyes, though. She had to be okay.

"Leandra." I answered quietly, "I-I.. I'm sorry. A-About saying-"

"It's fine." She assured me, laughing a little. I fidgeted a little, trying to ease the pain. I cursed under my breath when all it did was make it flare. Squeezing my eyes shut. I didn't know what to say to her.

I tried to ignore the deep, resonating sense of deja vu. This felt so familiar. My frown was back. The one I had when I first woke up that morning. I nodded, letting her know I heard her. I couldn't speak, though. Not until I knew why I knew her. My own distrust keeping me silent.

Her smile was still kind, as were her golden eyes as I met them. For a moment, only one second in time, I swore she looked at me as if she'd met me before. Like she already knew me, and it shook me.

I looked back down, trying to gather my thoughts. There was no way she could know me. I didn't know anybody.

"Aww, she's so cute!" I turned my head, looking at Rachel's group, glaring. I shook my head and turned back forward, now glaring at the table. Running my hands over the printed wooden patterns. Like Rachel needed any more reason to feel superior.

"I'm Alice." She smiled at me, "And don't worry. You're cute too."

"No I'm not." I said immediately, a hint of confusion in my tone, "Not even close." Her eyes grew concerned, meeting my confused gaze. I hated being lied to.

"You don't like her?" Alice asked, and I simply shrugged gently.

Her deep golden eyes seemed out of place, but her short black hair accentuated her features fairly well. She really was beautiful, making me not like her just a bit. Some kids had it all. Despite the jealousy, however, she had this air of happiness that seemed to draw me to her. I liked her, despite being devastatingly jealous of her.

"No." I finally said, looking down, "I don't. She's such a little..." I bit my tongue around the word I wanted to use, "Brat."

I turned my head again, my hair uncovering part of my face. I watched Rachel laugh, giggling obnoxiously along with the group she'd been chosen for. I desperately ached to hit her.

"Why not?" Alice asked. The rest of the group seemed content with leaving her to ask all the questions, not caring one bit that we hadn't gotten into anything in particular. Choosing to use this time to socialize with each other instead.

"I-I don't know.." I wasn't used to being asked so many questions. Normally, nobody ever tried this much, "She's not the easiest person to like." Instead of clamming up like I normally did, I found myself wanting to answer Alice's questions. Actually wanting to speak to her. Maybe it had something to do with the sense of familiarity, but I wasn't sure.

"Is she mean to you?"

"Yeah." I murmured, "All the time." It was the strangest feeling, actually having a conversation with someone.

"Well, don't listen to whatever she tells you." She said, smiling, "Don't let someone like that get you down."

"Yeah." I snorted, looking down, "Because it's that easy."

A short silence took place and I felt her studying my expression. For a small second, I feared some of the concealer had come off of my cheek. There was no way for me to check, so I had to settle with easing my nerves by the fact that nobody else freaked out. I kept my gaze down, trying to slow my racing heart.

"Oh, it can't be that bad, can it?" She asked, her smile fading in concern. For the oddest reason, I had to force back tears. I blinked a few times, clearing my vision enough to see the desk under my hands. The last thing I needed was to cry at such a simple question.

Hoping she didn't see that, I cleared my throat quietly, and sighed. She saw it, however. I knew she saw it. The pain in my tired eyes. Misery in every single one of my features.

I hated my life, and everybody in it. I hated everything about myself. I spent each waking moment in physical agony, and obviously each sleeping moment torturing myself with thoughts of how good life could be. How could it not be that bad?

"You have no idea." I gave her a forced smile, hoping to ease her concern.

"I think I can imagine." She replied, not falling for it. Something about the gold in her eyes made me uncomfortable. It made me feel as if she were actually looking at me. Not just seeing me, but her piercing gaze made me feel as if she could see every single thing I tried to hide.

I shook my head. There was no way. Shoving away the urge to hope. Even if she did have the slightest inkling of what went on at home, there would be nothing she could do. I scolded myself quietly. I had to get it together.

That dream had my head all messed up. I wasn't in a good place, despite how nobody seemed to know that. Alice seemed to understand, which was weird in itself, but it wasn't worth getting my hopes up about.

"So." She said, and I looked back up at her, "Tell me about yourself." Her tone had completely changed, throwing me off again. It returned to the same, chipper tone she'd first used. Open, friendly.

"There isn't much to know." I replied, gently getting more comfortable in the seat, "I'm not very interesting." My tone was quiet, much like it always was. Especially considering I was still confused. Very confused. I didn't know what to think or how to feel with her watching me so closely.

"I'm sure you're plenty fascinating." The way she said that made me believe her, if only for a moment. The smile she gave me was slightly contagious as well. I gave her a small, genuine one in return. I was quickly growing to like her. Too bad I'd never see her again after this class.

"Well, what do you want to know?" I asked, meeting her eyes again.

"How old are you?" She asked curiously.

"Same as just about everyone in my class." I said, "Nine."

"You're just a baby." She smiled, "You look a lot younger."

"I know." I said, my mood dropping as did my gaze. I blushed, sensitive about my height. I was sensitive about it because I knew the reason behind it.

"I only meant," She said quickly, trying to make up for her comment, "That I thought you had maybe skipped ahead a grade."

I sighed, shaking my head, "I'm not smart enough for that."

"Oh." She said, seeming worried now, "Okay, well. Tell me about home."

"No." I told her defensively, looking up again. She seemed slightly surprised at the finality of my tone. There was a quiet pause as we held each other's gaze. A solid wall of defense in my gaze until I realized that she'd meant no harm by that request. I was being rude, which I often did when someone asked about that part of my life. I looked back down, cursing quietly to myself, "Sorry. I just.." I trailed off, unsure of what excuse to give her.

"It's okay." She said quietly, comfortingly, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I just.. Don't like that subject." I murmured, shaking my head gently, "Pick another."

Luckily, the others seemed fine with Alice and I talking. They didn't bother interrupting us the entire hour we talked, letting Alice do all the interacting with me. We covered no part of what they'd been covering in class, and I was okay with that as well. I didn't mind so much just talking to her. I wasn't that interested in 'English literature'.

Okay, so the color gold was proving to be a good one. I honestly still had no idea what to make of the way I recognized her, but I didn't want to ruin anything. Perhaps it was best to distance myself from that color. Just to be safe.

A/N: I know, not a lot is different in here. I have noticed a lot of places that needed work in the next few chapters.
Short A/N here. Not much else to say. :)
Hope you enjoyed this first chapter.
Until two, my friends! :D