I read the question over and over in my head, "What is one word you would use to describe yourself?" I stared at the bright green paper my new high school wanted me to fill out before my first day of school tomorrow. And oddly enough this was the one question I could not answer. All the other answers came easily to me, "Where were you born?" or "What are some of the things you like to do in your spare time?" Most people could come up with thirty words to describe themselves. However, I could not think of even one.

My life was extremely complicated as a seventeen-year-old girl. School was a constant chore with homework and tests, let alone having to get up at 5:00 every morning. Plus, it did not make things any easier when I stayed up until midnight perfecting my English paper. I couldn't help that I was somewhat obsessed with doing well in school. However, this obsession did was created from a foundation laid by my father. He was always pushing me to do my best in high school so that I would get into a good college. My dad did not just live for the moment; he lived for twenty years from the moment. He had me in all of the advanced classes, and had researched every scholarship option I could possible apply for by the time I was in eighth grade. Don't get me wrong, I loved him for it, but sometimes it got overwhelming.

Then, I had to deal with not only the work of school, but actually going to school. This involved talking to people, and attempting to blend into the walls to go unnoticed. The social part of school had never been easy for me. I was not exactly outgoing, and I tended to bottle my emotions. Besides being unnaturally shy and clumsy, I did not really connect well with people my age. My mom was always teasing me that I have the maturity of a thirty year old. Therefore, I never really had many friends. My main goal was to get in and out of school without getting involved in the social drama. Of course, I had a few friends, but extending outside of this small circle was virtually impossible for me.

However, my old circle of friends wouldn't be able to protect me anymore. In fact, chances were that I would never see them again. Because on top of school, friends, and all of the other problems a normal seventeen-year-old girl has, my family decided that to move.

It was one thing to move a couple of blocks down, or even a different town. But it was entirely something else to move to a different state. Moreover, it became an even bigger problem when moving involved picking up, leaving your life behind, and moving six states away.

I knew I would always miss what I left behind in Florida. Sometimes I wished I could go back one more time just to smell the freshness of the rain as I drove down A1A (Don't know any freeways in Florida). I wished I could go back to see the city of Miami just one more time. I never realized all that I had when I lived there. I missed the really good Italian restaurants, and the warm sunny days, and even the grocery stores. All of it.

And for all that I gave up, what did I get in return? I got Sacaton, Illinois. Sacaton! I had not even heard of Sacaton before my parents "sprung" the idea of moving on me. They ensured me that I would just love living in Sacaton. Boy, were they wrong.

What exactly did Sacaton have to offer? Well, first off, it was just about the smallest town in the United States. Every single person in the town knew about every other person. It was actually extremely sad. It seemed as if the people didn't have anything better to do than to sit and talk about someone else. Therefore, naturally, everyone knew I would be moving to Sacaton before I even knew I was moving.

Sacaton also had a Wal*Mart, one gas station, and an ice cream shop. Yup, that pretty much covered it. Oh, yeah, I forgot. During the fall and winter, and sometimes even the spring, it got really cold. And it snowed. It snowed! I have never even spent one day of my life in a temperature below 50 degrees. How could I ever survive temperatures below zero (yes, sometimes it dropped below zero)?

To make matters worse, I would have to change high schools. Yes, junior year in high school, I would have to start all over again. It would be like being a freshman only worse. When you were a freshman, it was way easier to start high school, because chances were that you were not the only person who started off alone at the school. After just graduating, kids split off and went to several different high schools, so the odds were that other kids would be without a friend. But no, I was starting as a junior. Everyone already had his or her group of friends. I was the odd girl out.

Besides that, transferring was just a pain. I had to send all of my documentation from my old high school, Sagewood Meadows, to my new high school, Sacaton High. Oh, yes, Sacaton High. Quite a creative name they had there.

My brother, Jacob, but we called him Jake, had it easy. He was entering eighth grade. He only had to deal with middle school for one year, and then he was going on to high school. I had to undergo the challenge of making friends for two years, and then go to college.

But my parents insisted that I would get used to things. After all, they said, I had a whole month of summer to get used to things. However, I had fully intended to spend that whole month of summer locked in my new room, listening to music and spending time alone. And that was exactly what I did. Besides, that was, when I left for work. It just so happened that I got a job working at the ice cream shop in Sacaton, known as the Ice Train, during the time that was left of my summer. It also just so happened that when you worked at the Ice Train, you were not called a "worker," you were called a "conductor."

So, as I sat filling out a sheet that would help my teachers "better understand me," I could not think of an answer. As I said, I was not social, and my life was currently in the state of a mess.

The one word I could think of to describe me was, "conductor."

My name is Isabella, though I go by Bella, Swan, and I was a conductor.