You should not be reading this. That was what the note told me. Did I listen? No. And look where that got us. I should really just listen when things tell me not to do something. Well, this is not entirely my fault. Everyone contributed to where we are now. But, of course, the blame falls on me. Wait. You don't even know what's happening right now. I should probably explain. So, uh, listen up, I guess.
My name is Cyra BlackWood. I live with alone my father. I have a great group of friends, a good school, a cute crush who, sadly, is my best friend and I have a pretty good life altogether. I was never intentionally mean to anyone. My friends weren't either. My friends and I had just planned to go on an awesome retreat to a ski resort over the winter holidays. It was going to be perfect. Then the day began.
From now on, I'll just tell the story in the present tense because I feel it will immerse you guys better in how quickly everything went wrong. There'll be little parts where I interrupt myself to say something, but really, it's just you guys seeing my story unfold.
The sun glaring on my face, I wake from a really fitful sleep. All night I felt as if something would go wrong, somehow. Looking in the mirror at my reflection, I studied myself. A tall, gangly, pale, teenage girl. My eyes startled people, with their striking purple glare. My porcelain white skin contrasted with them very boldly. Pulling my choppy black hair into a ponytail, I scowl at my reflection. Turning to the side, I look at my figure, biting my lip. I've always been too skinny, as my father loved pointing out, although you couldn't see it when I was wearing my sweats and tank top. My 'pyjamas', if you will. I turn my attention to my breasts, focusing on their size, deciding they weren't too small. Sighing, I undress, stepping into my shower. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to not worry and just relax for a minute. The minute was quickly over when I heard my father yell.
"CYRA!" He called down the hall, "Nico's here! Get going!" Quickly, I jump from the shower, turning off the water and drying myself. Tripping my way into my room, I pull on a bra and underwear, looking through my closet. I decide on ripped black jeans, a dark red shirt which I tuck into my jeans and my trusty leather jacket. Slipping on my socks, I grab my Doc Martens and hurriedly apply some eyeliner. I twist my uncooperative hair into a messy bun, cursing under my breath. I grab my bag, run down the hall, hugging my sister goodbye before finally sitting down in Nico's old jeep. He grins over at me knowingly. Not even having the energy to make a comment, I just flip him off. I pull my seatbelt on, then my body wakes up and realises I'm sitting next to Nico Di Angelo. My best friend since forever and the object of my undying love for a few years now. Like me, he was skinny, pale (like seriously his skin was almost see-through). He had a few freckles along his cheeks and nose, and when he blushed there was no hiding it. His eyes were so dark, they were black. Black, wide and filled with suspicion and weary of everything. He has two dimples in his back and extremely self-conscious about himself and I will love him endlessly. Rolling his eyes, he turns back to face the road, but I can still see the ghost of a smile on his lips. I punch his arm softly, surprised by the shiver that goes up my body at touching him. It must just be me though, because he just bites his lip slightly then clears his throat.
"So, Cy, how're you going?" he asks. I sigh. Nico has never met. My dad. I always just say 'my parents' because I am ashamed of the truth. My mum was killed and my dad abused me for it, accusing me of being the problem. Nico interrupted my thoughts by leaning over me to open the heating vent, letting hot air blast over me, warming me from head-to-toe. When he pulls back, he grins over at me and I have to bite my lip to keep from sighing in frustration at my body's hormones. I mean, I can't even look at him without turning red. Nico and I sit in silent for a few moments until we reach our high-school. We get out, me gracefully tripping on my laces and almost falling out of the car. Thankfully, and unfortunately, Nico's there to catch me. I quickly realise I'm not breathing as his arms hold me steadily. He helps me steady myself, then grins a Nico grin.
"Come on, we're not in hell yet." He says, muttering under his breath. Nico slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling him against me as we walk through the school gates, entering my weirdest day of high-school yet.