Chapter 1
The life of a teenager is a hard one. Sure, we get some fun times in high school and with our friends. But is it really worth the insecurities, hormonal imbalances, and the skewed perception adults usually give us?
Being a teenager is worse when you're different. Different, like me. Now, looking at me, you would not necessarily call me different. I'm a teenage girl at around five foot-four with long, thick black hair in a ponytail and fair, tan skin. Looking at me, you also wouldn't guess I was seventeen or a senior, at that! My youthful face and brown eyes with innocence would make you think I was an eighth grader. It also does not help when you do not wear makeup…But that's beside the point, the point being that I look like a normal kid.
But I'm not a normal kid, even before the incidents.
Unlike most kids my age, I cannot be put into one clique or sub-culture. I definitely didn't go with girly-girls. But I couldn't be classified with tomboys. Yes, I am smart, but I can't be classified with nerds either. I don't like going on social networking sites and found texting to be too impersonal. I preferred reading or just having a conversation face-to-face. It also doesn't help that I'm not too good at social stuff. (Somehow, though, people have found me to be charming. Their words, not mine).
I also have a strange personality. I am a blunt and open person to the people I trust. I also have an aggressive, scary side if you provoke me too much (don't worry, it takes a few months of pressure and stress to get me that mad). Most people know me as the strange, smart kid with the smart tongue. Then the incidents began. And they all started on the eve of October.