I watched my dad give me a thumbs up after he dropped the cardboard box into the truck. I nodded towards him but didn't feel like smiling. I never felt like smiling these days. I trudged down the hall to my room. A vacant space now. Only the curtains still hung. I didn't want to leave. Home was home. I would miss this place. For one thing, the apartment we were going to move to meant having to share with my little brother. I liked being alone sometimes and having a schizophrenic brother didn't help. I loved George. But he stressed me out sometimes. Especially since he was only seven.

"It's time to go, honey. Everything's loaded up." I released a breath and my mom seemed to understand the meaning of that small sound. She brought out her hand and I took it. When we hopped into the moving truck, I tried to peek out the window to get one last glimpse. The window was too blurry so I moved away next to George. He was playing with a small toy motorcycle. Twirling it in his fingers like it was flying. I leaned my head against the armrest. I wish I could fly now.

My mom and dad were talking about how they were both excited to reach a new place. I wanted to cry out that we were moving to a shithole. To Nickleston. One of the most poverty stricken neighborhood sides in town. Because we were poor. And because I needed to get away from everything and everyone. I know my parents meant well but being raped meant having an eternal scar. And it wouldn't chip away. Ever.

I tucked my hair in. Even a braid would come loose easily. George stared at me. He had this way of knowing how I felt without saying much. God, I wish he could just be a normal boy. A normal boy without a disorder. "Mom?"

She glanced up from the book she was reading. Dad was humming to a 70's song. "Yea?"

"Did you bring my violin?"

She smiled and patted my leg. I flinched. She noticed and her brown eyes softened. "Yea, Clary. I did. Don't worry."

We had left a bunch of stuff at the old house because we couldn't fit anything in such a small space. An apartment wasn't that big afterall. Then we were there and dad whistled loudly as if we were living at a castle and we weren't bankrupt or poor. It was weird how in just seconds we moved from one of the richest neighborhoods to the poorest because of dad's job. The business he worked at failed miserably. It wasn't like I was leaving friends. I didn't have any. Not after what happened, anyway. Plus, I was a paradox. Pretty, sometimes called hot. But then when guys actually got close, they left. I couldn't care less about boys now. Or anybody.

Mom took George and Lisa in to show them around. Dad asked me help take boxes in. I heard him talking to a neighbor. Friends already? Then I heard the steps of more than one person. I glanced up just as three guys popped behind the truck. One was large and chubby and bald. The other was black and had too many piercings to count. He gave me a wave. I nodded numbly. Then the guy in the middle. Long gold hair. Messy. Tawny eyes. Cruel face. Tattoos across his arms. How did dad know these guys? They looked like thugs. I grabbed a box and shouldered my way to the apartment, trying hard to ignore their eyes.

The boxes went into our floor so quickly that I was actually glad the three goons helped. My dad pulled out his wallet and I wanted to beg him not to give them anything. We didn't really have spending room anyway. But then the golden haired guy waved his hand. "Thanks." Then they sauntered away. Chubby one was laughing.

Dad saw me looking and shrugged. I shrugged too.

Lisa and George looked excited. They were buzzing around me like bees. I planted a smile on my face and skipped past them to my room. Brought out a mattress and slid it across the carpeted floor. I liked sleeping on a mattress on the ground. I didn't care about anything else. It was easy enough to place about eight outfits into the small closet. Mom said we'd buy from the local thrift store soon. I used to buy things from the mall. I guess that changed.

It's eight o' clock. I run down the stairs to the kitchen. Mom is cooking a late dinner. Dad's adjusting some dishes and cups. Lisa is playing with George. Kinda looked normal for once. "I'm going to sleep. I don't want to miss out in school."

Mom looked up, her eyebrows creased. "Are you sure? You're not hungry, sweetie?"

I shook my head and she hugged me just as dad patted my hair like I was a kid. Once I was in my room, I brought out my case and pulled out the violin. Warmed up a bit. Then sang as quietly as I could. Then George hurtled towards my bed, a smile on his face. "Play." He replied simply. And I did as he rocked his body against me.

Then he climbed back to sleep somewhere just as Lisa came in. She was seven and ordinary. Smart for her age. She kissed me goodnight and hopped onto her springy bed. I shut my eyes and let my mind wander.

[]

Morning came early and I woke Lisa and George up. I reminded George to take his meds. "I hate them." He told me. I rubbed his cheek.

"Me too." He swallowed them anyway.

I didn't know what to wear. It wasn't like it was the first day of school. It was the middle of the year. I was just a newbie who had a lot to catch up on. I chose a gray sweatshirt and black jeans. Dirty boots to match. I only had three pairs of shoes. I glanced at the mess I called hair. Pulled my hair into a ponytail and went into the kitchen. Mom handed me my bagged lunch. Kissed my forehead. Lisa and George had already went into the elementary school bus. I saw the high school pull to a stop. Waved to my dad and darted towards it.

There were a lot of people on. Most looked scary. I avoided everybody's gaze. Sat at the very front seat. Some people whispered. I stared out the window. At the coming trees and roads. Another stop. Someone climbed in, I heard. Then that someone sat beside me. There were still seats empty so I scooted a bit. "You know, the bus isn't that bad." He said.

I glanced at him. Golden hair. Same guy. He looked passive. I didn't say anything. We stayed silent that way until we arrived to the school. It wasn't that big which made me glad. I didn't want to wander to different classes. He climbed off first, not giving me another look. I grabbed a school map from the office and found my locker. Thank god. It wasn't crowded. Somebody's backpack bumped against my shoulder. I moved away. "Sorry." The person unlocked their locker, next to mine.

"It's okay." So quietly, I think he needed to lean in to hear me.

"Are you new?"

I got out a notebook and my pencil pouch. Met his eyes. They were green. His hair blonde, curled behind his ears. Tall. "Yeah."

"My name's Sebastian." He said, extending out his hand.

I stared at it, my own palms getting sweaty. "I-I have to go." I pushed past a coming crowd and stepped into AP English where unfortunately, Sebastian was in.

He stayed silent throughout class while Mr. Hannifan kept talking about of Mice and Men. I had read the book in ninth grade. I still had a vivid image of it. Once the bell rang, I had trouble getting to my next class. Physics. The map of the school was wrinkly because I had crumbled it in anger. I wanted to go back to my old school even if it meant seeing people I didn't want to see.

"What are you doing here?" A voice asked. Deep and careless.

It was that guy again. Tawny eyes. "I can't find my class." I admitted.

He was staring a little too closely. A little too intently. I wondered if he would say anything mean. "What class?"

"Physics." I showed him the map.

He didn't take it. "You're gonna go up the stairwell. Third room to the left."

"Thanks." I mumbled and walked off as quickly as I could without looking crazy. God, I just wanted to go home.