My name is Lena and I'm not exactly 'normal'. What is normal anyway? Everyone has their own little definition of what they perceive as 'normal'. Your normal could be waking up at six o'clock on the dot (God help you.) and catching a bus to the exact same coffee shop every morning and drinking the same old drink while reading a book or the newspaper, mulling over your thoughts while everyone else goes on about their days, and then someone else's normal could be sleeping all day, waking up at noon, and staying on the computer reading fanfiction and watching cats do hilarious and adorable stuff at night while drinking nothing but Monster energy drinks and munching on some chips until they succumb to exhaustion and pass out.

I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Maybe I should just start over. That would be the best thing to do. First impressions are important after all, and you only get one. People hardly ever give out second chances anymore... It's like you mess up once-make one teeny little mistake-and everyone hates you for it and will never let you live it down.

Oh, yeah... getting off topic again. Let's get back on the Train of Thought, shall we?

My name is Lena Bradley and I'm… weird. Yes, that's it. Weird. I'm not talking standing alone in a corner doing nothing weird(although I can see myself doing that) or running around your own house naked singing Sponge bob songs weird (that, I will NEVER do), I'm talking WEIRD. You see, I have recently discovered that I could do this… thing. this thing... it's really... heh strange, I guess. What supee ability isn't strange? It makes me feel extremely uncomfortable and just plain awkward. Well, I was awkward before but now it's just more so. I'm afraid to even talk to anyone else, let alone have physical contact with them. Although it's not like I was really social before all of this, I tended to just lock myself in my room and fiddle with my guitar...

And it's not that my ability is dangerous, it's actually quite harmless... unless you want me to accidentally transport you to Chicago by accident. I just… get so nervous around people because I'm afraid that they'll find out about what I am and they won't want to talk to me anymore, let alone be my friend. I... I've tried controlling it and sometimes it works, but there are times when I just get really emotional and I can't do anything to stop it.

Maybe I should explain what my ability is, or at least try. That would probably help you to understand my situation better. I phase shift, quite literally I end up in a different place from where I was by thinking of it or trying to run, that defiantly put me off cross country

And as if to make everything worse Grandad decides to just enrol me in Gotham North High. He says that there are plenty of teenaged girls there and that they could help me feel comfortable with being a new student. Hah, help? The only help any high-schooler can give a girl like me is showing me how easy it is to fit a head in a toilet or how cramped it is in a cleaning closet. Grandad … clearly doesn't understand the concept of high school. For someone like me it's those long hours of agonising social interactions and teachers yelling at you and giving you mountains of homework that they expect you to finish and turn in the very next day. Now, with the mutation it will be even more so, the second someone finds out what I am it'll spread like wild fire and the next thing you know I'm being shoved into a locker, and trust me lockers are not comfortable… at all.

"Ms. Bradley," the teacher spoke and my head jolted forward and away from my notes. My mind immediately began to jump to conclusions. Oh God, what if he knew? How did he find out though? My body hasn't accidentally transferred to the park again, right? I looked down to my pale hands to find that they were perfectly fine, not one patch of the purple energy. Oh no, don't tell me my face is sparkling with energy; I don't like it when I energise. I like being just the way I am. But there was no way that he could have found out right?

… Right?

"Since you're new here why don't you stand up and tell the class a little bit about yourself?" he suggested and I heaved a sigh of relief. Of course my relief was short lived when what he said finally registered in my mind, and suddenly a whole flurry of thoughts began racing through the nervous wreck that was my brain. This, was exactly the thing that I had wanted to avoid on my first day. I've seen all of the movies where a new kid arrives and they go up to the front of the class... it all ends horribly and the kid is either covered spit balls or being pelted by paper airplanes.

"U-uh, um… I would actually prefer to just sit here... and not do that." I squeaked, my voice cracking in multiple areas as my green eyes began darting everywhere except for his stone cold stare. Look, one of the tiles isn't turned the right way... that isn't helping. There's nothing here that you can distract yourself with, Lena. So you might as well just stand up and get it over with... NOPE. Oh God, oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no. It's going to happen; I can feel my skin rippling already. I can hear the screams and the shouts. Please don't make me do this. I really don't want them to know.

I don't want ANYONE to know.

"Just stand up, tell us your name and something about yourself." He said sternly, most likely trying to scare me into doing the task. I closed my eyes for a few seconds as my brows furrowed together. Taking deep breaths I swallowed hard before finally coming to a stand, my legs were shaking and threatening to phase me right out there. "Good, now go on."

I hate you so much, you toupee wearing, ugly tied, little man.

I mumbled, hoping that he would take it and leave me alone to sulk.

"Could you repeat that?"

Oh God, "My name is Lena Bradley,and I like photography and play soccer."

"What was that?"

... You... are going to get slapped one day-not by me, but by someone else. Someone way bigger than me, with multiple piercings and a giant Doberman named Killer.

Isn't that enough? Come on, the guy in the corner could hear me-and he's listening to his iPod! At least… I think he heard me. He was nodding his head… then again that could just be his music. What did this teacher guy want? A pep cheer blasted at him through a megaphone? Oh I'll give him that… minus the megaphone bit. I don't have a mega phone; even if I did I wouldn't know how to use it.

Or… I could totally wimp out like I'm doing right now, "My name is Lena Bradley and I like to play soccer."

Geez, Lena. Grow a backbone, won't you?

He shook his head, "In Spanish, please."

"Spanish?" I looked to the board and discovered that the word 'Spanish' had been written in big, white, letters in chalk. It was even underlined three times and circled. "This isn't Ancient History?" he shook his head and my mouth went into a small 'o'. "Oooohhhh. That... that would explain a LOT. I... sorry, for... for um, interrupting your class time."

Gosh you're so stupid! Why didn't you look at the board when you came in? Are you blind, or do you actually enjoy having everyone laugh and talk about how stupid you are behind your back? You should have double-checked the room number, you idiot! Now, get out of this room and go find your real your class, you despicable, moronic excuse for a person.

I poked my head through the door, crossing my fingers and hoping that this was the actual class. I just wasted five minutes going up and down the hallway and asking the teachers if this was History or not. So far, nope. All I got was some stifled giggles and smirks. Don't you just love how everyone laughs at each other's pain and misfortune? I don't, not one bit. That's high school for you. But then again what did I expect from a bunch of hormone-driven, axe body spray breathing, pimple popping demons? To tell you the truth... I expected at least ONE person to be nice to me, maybe even throw a smile my way. But noooooooooo, apparently the only way you can get a smile out of anyone here is if you go all drastic plastic surgeon on them and freeze it there.

The teacher turned to look at me as soon as the door creaked open. "Please tell me this is ancient history?"

She nodded and I burst through the door with a look of triumph on my face, "Yes! Finally, you will not believe how many classes I had to go to to get here."

She appeared to be saying something but I continued, "I went up and down this entire hallway just poking my head through the door like this-"

Okay, stop doing that. NOW. You will set yourself off!

"Are you Lena Bradley?" she interrupted loudly and I stopped then nodded, "Lena." I insisted. "Good, now sit down."she scolded.

"Well, alright then." I said, she didn't have to be so rude about it. She didn't even say please, now that's just cold. Though I'd never tell her that to her face. The best thing to do when confronted with a strict teacher is to just crawl up into the fetal position and-no… wait, that's what you do if you're attacked by a bear. What you really do is just nod, smile, and do whatever they ask you to do.

I sat down grabbing out my pencil case and books, The teacher droned on and it hardly seemed like she was caring if there was anyone listening or not, I placed my head on the desk and sighed. Today's the day, today was the worst day of my life.