Slam!

Brooke slammed the book down on the desk with all her might. Not even she had any idea what she was doing as anger coursed through her body, making her much stronger than the frightened boy. He did a good job hiding his fear, but Brooke caught his eyes darting towards the door. Any second now, it would burst open and the teacher would walk in; Derek would tell her exactly what happened while conveniently leaving out the part he played, and she would most likely be expelled. But she couldn't help it; it had been so precious to her!

"How dare you!" Was the kindest thing she had yelled at him after he broke her mother's necklace...on purpose.

The entire class had stopped what little work they were doing at her first shriek. Now they were gathered around in a loose semi circle, all waiting for her to do her worst. Everyone knew Derek and Brooke had it in for each other since the first day of school. Surely after he broke her mother's old necklace, her favorite possession ever, she would rip his little sneering face off. Or worse, give it a good slap. And she did.

At first, Derek just smirked at her. But then, just as the teacher walked in, he howled with pain and clutched his slowly reddening face. The teacher gave one look at Brookes hands, with her knuckles turning white from her strong grip on the book, and she found herself being whisked away to the principal's office.

The bell rang, finally signalling the end of today's torture for the teens. But not Brooke's. Thirteen years she had lived here, in America, at supposedly their best school, and now she had a good feeling she was going back home, to England, in disgrace.

Brooke Merryweather was fourteen years old, with dark brown hair and light brown eyes. Like usual, her hair was quite a mess, and her face looked quite plain from worry. That was part of the reason she had no friends. The other reason was her temper. It had a tendency to get her into trouble quite a lot. Today was the last straw, she soon found out as she sat in the principal's office. She could go back home or find another school that could take her. Brooke doubted if even the worst school in the world would accept her, with her record and the fact that it was only three months into the school year.

Her aunt picked her up with an even worse scowl than normal. Brooke was so furious with herself for losing her temper that she couldn't even meet her eyes as she climbed into the small black car. But, despite her temper, she couldn't help but feel hopeful maybe she could go back to England. She and her aunt had lived there until she was old enough to walk and talk. They had moved to America to find better schools than what was available to her in England. Neither of them loved America nearly as much as they loved their home. In fact, her aunt was the only one who seemed to even like it at all. She gave a small sigh and closed her eyes.

The car pulled into the driveway, and neither the driver nor the passenger said a word as they got out. You could tell the difference between the two as Brooke walked quickly-almost running, in fact-up to the door. She didn't even bother to close it as she ran to her room.

Her aunt, the complete opposite, locked the car, walked slowly towards the front door, and carefully closed it as she fixed to make dinner. Ms. Merryweather was a tall and neat woman. She had neat chestnut hair that was always tied into a tight bun and green eyes. While kind, she was very strict, especially in making sure everything was nice, neat, and orderly.

After meeting her, you'd think she would have fainted at the prospect of looking after little Brooke. But deep down, she loved Brooke more than anything. Brooke knew this, but would never admit this to herself for pride.

Brooke slammed the door to her room, but much more gently than when she had slammed the book down. She burst into tears as soon as she felt the comfort of her pillow. After what felt like an hour, she took a deep breath and sat up. Her mother's old necklace, a silver chain with a beautiful unicorn horn pendant, was completely broken. Made of glass, the little horn had broken in two as soon as Derek had gotten his filthy hands on it.

This was all his fault, not hers. If he hadn't encouraged her to lose her already going temper, everything would be fine. She would never have disappointed her Aunt Mary so badly, destroyed any chance of an acceptable personal record, or gotten kicked out of the one school that accepted her.

She stared down at the broken pendant with mixture of sadness, self-pity, and disappointment. England was her only chance now. She felt a small surge of happiness at imagining her family greeting her, entering the tiny castle they lived in, and gazing at the stars. But then she remembered why she would be moving back. Everyone would be disappointed, including her mother.

The next morning, she was awakened early by her aunt, and ordered to clean herself up quickly and pack her things. Brooke took only 30 minutes to get cleaned up and pack her most precious belongings. She gingerly wrapped the broken unicorn horn pendant in tissue paper and buried it safely in her clothes suitcase. Another hour or two, and everything she owned was packed away in some sort of bag or box...except her books.

"Aunt Mary, what about my books?"

Her aunt simply gave her a stern look and shoved her last pair of socks into the suitcase. Brooke decided not to push it. Their suitcases, bags, and boxes were somehow all loaded up into the car and her Aunt Mary started the car. Brooke stared in shock. They were going to leave half of their belongings in the house?! (Her aunt never packed anything other than clothing or her favorite possessions.) She ran back in just as her aunt was backing the car into the street, alongside the sidewalk.

She just couldn't leave her absolute favorite books. She grabbed Romeo and Juliet, Holes, To Kill a Mockingbird, and her absolute favorite, Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. Books were her only comfort at school when no one would talk to her unless they were trying to see how bad her temper could get.

Before she knew it, they were boarding an airplane to England. She was both nervous and excited to be going home. While she couldn't wait to see her mother again, she also wouldn't be able to stand to see her disappointed. She fell asleep listening to the plane's engines start and the motion of flying, smoother even than an elevator.