AUTHOR'S NOTE! PLEASE READ: Ok, readers, this is a story I started a while ago and now cannot remember where I was going with it. I like what's written so far and wouldn't feel right giving up on it entirely, so I'm submitting it with the hope that you will give me your ideas and comments on where you'd like the story to go. I'm pretty much open to anything (within reason), and the story leaves plenty of different routes by which one's imagination can travel, so I'd really like to hear from you. I have six relatively short chapters, and I'm also open to critiquing of my horrible Spanish titles.

Enjoy!

Wait For Me

Chapter 1: Pequeña(tilde) Chica Extraño(tilde) y Callado (strange and quiet little girl)

The large, grey-bricked building seemed to loom over her with a cold unfriendliness. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide with uneasiness even in the sunlight of that bright April morning. Even her soft, brown braid couldn't hide her tensed shoulders. With her schoolbooks clutched tightly to her chest, she stepped uneasily toward the stairs leading to the entrance, her tattered, black and white sketchers scuffing the cement lightly. The crowd of high schoolers moving all around her was slowly becoming less, and she carefully read the hallway signs, looking for her new homeroom.

As she walked carefully, she was suddenly bumped into by a passing teenage boy dressed in brown corduroy pants and a black "Lead Zeppelin" T-shirt, along with a chain on his pants and another around his neck. He knocked her so hard that she dropped her books all over the floor.

No apology was given, the boy didn't even stop or look back, just continued on his way. She was already on her knees picking up her books when someone came and knelt down to help her.

"Oh my! Here, let me help you-" Said the older man. He was tall with sandy blond hair - well, what was left of it was sandy blond. He had a strange, flaky voice that made her a little uncomfortable at first, but it didn't take long for her to feel a little more at ease around him. He talked to her more as he helped her, and when they were both standing again, he asked, "Are you having trouble finding your class?" He had noticed her obvious distress.

"Um...yes..." She said slowly and quietly. "213?"

"Oh!" The teachers face brightened at this. "I'm the teacher of that class, my name is Mr. Simmons...You must be our new student!"

When she nodded, He smiled brilliantly. The principal had told him all about his new student, and he walked with her down the hallway toward the class, constantly chatting about his special class and how he knew she would feel right at home.

Somehow she doubted it.