How could you do this, Blue?

Have you not learned from what happened to Pink? How can you be so foolish?

Do you have any idea what will happen if White finds out about this?

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

That ever so annoying sound from the alarm clock on my nightstand shakes me out of my dream, the voices still echoing inside my head. I groan and reach over to pound the snooze button. 7:00am, it reads. I guess I can catch some more Z's. As soon as I snuggle back into my cozy blanket and array of fluffy pillows, I hear my mom's shrill voice call for me from downstairs.

"Lori Ann!"

That's me.

"Get your ass out of bed, or you'll be late for school!"

"Fine," I grumble to myself as I kick the blanket off and stand up. My head still foggy from sleep and my eyes still drooping, I slowly walk over to the moon chair with a giant pile of clean clothes stacked on top of it and pick through it, trying to find a decent outfit for the day.

My name is Lori Ann Reese. I'm fourteen years old, and it's my first day of high school. Lovely. I've always hated school, but I've been dreading high school the most for a while now. Just from the movies I've seen, it looks awful. Mom says it's really not that bad. I'll believe it when I see it.

Most girls my age are starting school with brand shiny new clothes and fancy new backpacks that Mommy and Daddy bought for them. But not me. I get the raggedy old hand-me-downs from my sisters.

Well, technically my sisters.

You see, I've been tossed between foster homes for as long as I remember. I've never had a place I could truly call home or anyone I could really consider family. Kind of sad, I know. But I've grown accustomed to it. I don't know too much about my real parents. I was just told that my birth mother died when I was born due to difficulties in labor, and no one knows what happened to the father. I don't like to think about it.

Every foster home I've been to, I've always been the odd one out. I've always had freakishly white hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and a weird blue crystal thing embedded in my chest that no one can explain. I think I was just born with it. I've always had it, and I'm convinced it's a part of me. It hurts like hell when I try to take it out. I've tried. I tend to avoid wearing low-cut tops so no one can see it, but I can't hide it all the time. It usually starts to glow when I get emotional. Sometimes it just does it out of nowhere. It's really annoying, and I feel like a freakshow. Some days I wish I could just rip it out.

All the other kids at home, at school, and in the neighborhood have always made fun of me. I've never had many friends because of it. I get called a freak, an alien, a witch, and many other nasty names. Someone once spread a rumor at school that I actually was a witch. It stuck with me for a while.

I grab a t-shirt and jeans from the pile and head out my bedroom door, toward the bathroom. Someone's already in the shower. Figures.

My little sister, Carrie, is standing at the bathroom door, pounding on it. "Hurry uuuuup, Amy! I gotta peeeeeeee!"

Good morning, family.

I put the fresh clothes aside and go downstairs. I guess I can get my breakfast while I wait for the bathroom to be free. There, I see Mom sitting at the dining table, sipping her usual morning coffee from her favorite mug.

She looks up at me and smiles. "Oh good, you're up. Hope you're ready for your first day of high school!"

I don't say anything to her as I prepare myself a bowl of cereal. Her smile fades.

"I forget you're not a morning person like I am. There's some coffee if you want some. It'll help wake your grumpy ass up."

"You know I hate coffee," I say as I pull up a seat across from her. I'm not used to seeing her without makeup. She has dark circles and bags under her eyes, along with worry lines resting across her forehead. Hard to blame her with all these kids running around the house.

"Well, you know that those energy drinks are awful for you." She observes my messy mop of hair and oily, unwashed face. "Why haven't you had a shower yet?"

I choke my first bite of cereal down. "Amy's hogging the bathroom, as usual."

Just then, the entire crew comes tumbling down the stairs. My foster brothers and sisters. There are four girls, including me, and two boys.

There's the oldest, Amy, who's seventeen. We don't get along. She comes downstairs wearing five pounds of makeup and a slutty tube top. Mom yells at her and tells her she can't wear that to school. She begrudgingly goes back upstairs to change.

There's Alyssa, fifteen. She's alright, I guess. We help each other with our homework. She hangs around the nerdy crowd at school, invites her friends over to play games. I join them sometimes.

There's Carrie, ten. Her blonde hair is tied up in pigtails. She's the biggest brat I know.

There's the youngest out of all of us, John, six. He's a cool little dude. Maybe the only one around here I get along best with. He likes to play video games with me. I usually let him win.

Then there's…ugh…Matthew. The worst of them all. He's sixteen years old, smokes like a chimney, and has made my life hell the whole time I've lived here. I went to school with him at one point. He might've been the one who spread that rumor about me, but I can't prove it. The first day I came to this foster home, he called me a "freaky looking bitch," and put his cigarette out on my arm. Way to make a good first impression. The pain was indescribable. I still have the scar.

Other times he's tried to touch me in places I don't want anyone to touch me. He's tried to peek on me in the shower. I hate him. He's a creep. I've told Mom about what he's been doing. She simply scolds him, but nothing else.

He brushes past me and gives me his shit-eating grin. My heart jumps up into my throat. I rush up to the bathroom so I can get my shower and start my day so I can just avoid him at school. I stand in the shower and let the hot water run down my body for what feels like hours. Just looking at him makes me feel gross.

I quickly brush my hair, put on some makeup, and throw on the outfit I picked out and run downstairs, where my backpack waits for me on the couch.

"Come on, guys, we're burnin' daylight here!" Mom calls out to all of us as we rush out the door into the warm morning sun. I stand there with my eyes closed and enjoy the warmth beating down on my back. I do this a lot, because I feel like I get a moment of peace for once. Then I pile into the Mom Van with the rest of the kids.

I hope the rest of my day is at least bearable.