Somebody else, 'Round everyone else

Watchin' your back like you can't relax

Tryin' to be cool, you look like a fool.

(Renesmee's POV)

". . . was eighteen when he entered the army. The day after he graduated from high school, he was drafted. It was 1950 and the United States had just entered the Korean War. So, Joe was immediately sent to boot camp and was running drills in Georgia four days after he had signed up. After about three months of basic training and several other activities around the camp, he was sent on a boat to South Korea. After several days of travel, he landed in a port about ten miles south of Seoul. But, he never would have guessed how much being in this country would change him." Mrs. Calus said to AP history class i was in, I rolled my eyes and tapped my pencil on my desk.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Carlie, so do you like, totally mind?" the girl in front of me said, as she spun around and glared full on at me. I smirked at her and tapped my pencil some more.

"Fuck off, Morgan." I whispered to her. She scoffed and turned around to listen to the fifty something year old teacher.

It had probably been repeated about a few trillion times by every teenager in the whole entire fucking world, but high school is hell. It was made to ruin happy kids lives, to turn them into freaks, It stole your morals, it made you change your mind about everything. It took my soul away, pun intended. If the teachers gave a shit about their pupils, they wouldn't allow any of what just happened to me, happen.

If anyone, gave a damn then it would be nice. High school would be . . . easy. But It's not, it's like you're at war, you against everyone and everything, even sometimes against yourself. They give you rule to follow, take away your freedom.

Have this many friends.

Never be alone.

Tell me your problems.

No, You can't go to the bathroom.

Do this problem.

Solve this equation.

Don't text in class.

Pay attention.

Do your homework.

Don't talk to your friends during class.

Don't bully.

Read this book.

Express how you feel about this book.

Tell me what you think.

Don't lie.

No, not really what you think.

Just tell me what I think.

Yes?

No?

F = Failure.

Leave all of your dreams and hopes behind, those who enter this hell hole. Yeah, thanks for warning me, could've sent a warning call, but you also could engraved on the front walk. Oh really, you're giving me a pamphlet about high school? Gee thanks. Let's read it, shall we?

Forget your dreams, check your morals, change your opinions, and convictions and leave them at the door so we can toss em' in the incinerator.

New ones will be sent or passed out to you as soon as you step through those doors.

Well, this is my advice;

Fuck that.

Normalcy isn't sports jerseys and ribbons in your hair, short skirts or big muscles. It's being human, not a prissy-stuck up snob, or a dumb jock who does steroids to make them selves look good.

But, you're a freak if you have stripe through your hair or a ring in your lip. If you wear colorful clothes, like purple pants. That's a freak in their book, the prissy-stuck up snobs and you'll be disregarded from their perfect "system" they've created, the one where the freaks are out-casted.

Bullshit, a bunch of bullshit if you ask me.

But if you ask them, they'll play the innocent card and pretend that they are nice, and sweet. Not demonic bitches, who try to kill you with their words that stab at you like swords.

"Ah, Mr. Clearwater is it? Well, Uh . . . you can take your seat next to . . . Carlie." she said my name like it was poison to her tongue,

"Sweet, thanks Mrs. Calus. You sat me down next to a hot girl, your the best." I looked up at him like he was absolutely insane. He'll get pushed out of the system if he keeps it up. But then I noticed what he was wearing, Red skinny jeans, sagged a bit and a nice black V-neck. His copper skin was vibrant against the colors. His height and serious muscle's were a plus along with his cropped black hair and shinning white smile.

I nearly squeaked when he sat next to me, he was so huge compared to me.

"I can't believe you sit back here all alone, this the class you text in?" he said quietly, his eyes burning hole into mine. Whatcha looking for? My none existent soul?

What?

"Uh, I sat back here on purpose, so I wouldn't have to sit with the prissy kids." I replied dryly and started to tap two pencils on the desk, making a fairly nice beat that could be resembled to drumming.

"You play the drums?" he asked casually, not paying a damn bit of attention; just like me.

"Eh, I have a nice set back home, but I only mess around with em'. My dad's a music fanatic. Killer piano player, though. But, classical isn't my style. I like hip - hop, rap...you know." I shrugged and kept the beat up I was making with the pencils. I began to tap my foot along to it too.

"I prefer good ol' rock and roll."

Hah, figures.

"Hmm, Rock and Roll is a waste of time, Metal compared to that dominates. Along with Alternative. Ever hear of Anberlin? Their stuff is deep." I replied casually.

"So, whatcha doing in Ontario?" he asked me, forgetting about my slight crude remark.

"Uh, my - er brothers and sisters went to this school when they were younger. And when it came my time to start school as a freshman, we decided to come back here." I shrugged and started up a different beat with my pencils, hoping he would believe me.

"Decided to come back? What's that s'possed to mean?" he asked curiously, did I let to much slip? Eh . . .

"They left after they all graduated, and then they uh - brought me into the family and after sixteen years, we came back and now I'm at this school here in Ontario." nice save. At least you remembered part of the story they gave you to feed the poor, insignificant humans.

"Oh, mind me asking what your name is?" he asked me, curiosity will kill you honey, did you know that?

"Re - Carlie. It's just Carlie."

retard, way to almost blow it.

"Seth Clearwater," he smirked and looked at my body.

"Take a picture, it'll last you longer." I rolled my eyes and started packing my things up.

"Nah, but you have a last name? They're kind of important." he smiled, and I shrugged.

I sighed, and gave him my 'last name'; "Masen."

"Carlie Masen? Well, Carl's, It was nice meeting you, by the way. I'll see you at lunch." He winked and got up just as the bell rung, I followed a mob of kids out the door and went to my next class.

Here I come Spanish class.