My first one-shot. K-centric. I don't mean to hate on other characters, I truly love them all. Oh and the song is Invisible by Skylar Grey. I love it.

And no I don't own the Clique. If I did, why would I be writing fanfiction?


These Shoes

I take these pills to make me thin,

I dye my hair,

I cut my skin,

To any other person, they just looked like an ordinary pair of beat-up, worn-out black Chuck Taylors with tattered laces and scribbled-on rubber soles. But to Kristen Gregory, they were so much more.

These shoes had gone through an entire year with her, going through the ups and downs of her senior year at Octavian Day County school. When they were brand-new, she had excitedly laced them on and hurried to her best friend's house. Those shoes had perceived the glorious scene of five beautiful girls having their last good time all together. They had been splattered with pool water when the four girls had a water fight to celebrate the end of summer.

Trembling hands had laced them up on the first day of school and they had tentatively crept through the hallways of OCD, like at the start of every year. They squeaked with excitement when she saw that her friends were waiting for her, anxious to start their last year of high school, but not wanting to go without her. Her spirits soared. That day was the best, fresh free pizza delivered as a treat, the five of them sitting under their usual tree, laughing and gossiping, mainly about Olivia stealing (and later sleeping) with Derrington, and didn't that make her such a two-faced skank, a traitor slut, a stupid bitch?

I tried everything to make them see me

But all they see is someone that's not me

Those shoes had watched Massie and Alicia walk away from them at lunch, one day in the late fall. They felt Claire crush them with her Keds and mouth 'Can you believe them?'. They were on when Massie and Alicia first started to make fun of Dylan and Claire and her. They skidded to a stop, then froze in shock when they reached her locker and saw that it had been completely trashed. And inside them, her feet trembled with rage because they knew exactly who'd done it.

They were the same shoes that walked through the lobby of the Brickview Apartment buildings, weighed down by knowing that she was, and always would be, poor.

Even when I'm walking on a wire

Even when I set myself on fire

Why do I always feel invisible, invisible

They were propped up on the cold bleachers in late November, when she stared desolately at the empty soccer field, butterflies soaring through her stomach at the thought of tomorrow's championship game. Those shoes had slipped off with a clang when he came and sat next to her. And the those shoes stayed perfectly still in happy shock when he stayed and they talked for over an hour.

After he walked through the damp grass, dark hair tousling in the wind, her heartbeat sped up and she suddenly saw everything in a lighter, giddier fashion. Black converses skipped all the way to her apartment, starting to realize that maybe it wasn't the end after all. Everything seemed brighter for a while.

Everyday I try to look my best

Even though inside I'm such a mess

Why do I always feel invisible, invisible?

The shoes were waiting patiently at the bottom of her duffel bag, soaking in the sweet sound of cleats smacking leather and the spontaneous cheers from spectators and occasionally the satisfying clang as a ball soared into the opposing goal and the commenter called out "Another goal for OCD!". Victory and sweat mingled air and it couldn't have been sweeter.

After three short blasts from the ref's whistle sounded out, the victorious team came stomping in, laughing, celebrating and congratulating one another. Changing was anything but ordinary and Kristen ditched the shorts and cleats for skinny jeans and chucks, but kept her jersey, glowing with pride. Two girls started dancing, still not fully changed and Kori started singing horribly off-key, but the laughing was good natured. The giddiness only increase when the black converse stepped onto a changing bench and, to her surprise, Kristen led the team in a goofy, off-kilter dance, all the girls throwing in their own moves. But for some reason, Kristen's heart seemed to die halfway out, as if it wasn't used to being this happy, as if it wasn't used to feeling so warm. And maybe that was her first warning.

Later on, the coach came in and the shoes cringed as she scolded Kristen for not making the goal she could have in the last minute, chasing off her happiness high. They didn't even need that damn goal, she thought, her heart feeling cold again. It just wasn't fair. They won. That should have been all that mattered.

Here inside my quiet heart, you cannot hear my cries for help,

I tried everything to make them see me,

But everyone see's what I can't be,

Later on, after a victory celebration at Slice of Heaven, they squeaked and quivered as Kristen tried to stay on her toes as long as Josh Hotz kissed her, hot and passionately under a street lamp near her apartments. And when he fiddled with his keys and hopped into his convertible, they waited outside the apartment until late in the night, dazed and giddy.

The next day at school, though, he ignored her and sat with Massie's group. When she walked by, Alicia smirked and then entwined herself around Josh, looking every bit like the snake she was, and kissed him—well, it looked more like their mouths were having sex—and he didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. He looked straight at her.

Those shoes crept into the bathrooms, tears spilling down her face, wondering how everything could have gone so terribly, terribly wrong. They found Olivia Ryan—the two-faced skank, the slut, the bitch etc.—slumped against the wall, crying silent tears. They slid down next to her as Kristen's slim hands gently plucked the thin white object out of Olivia's shaking hands, a sharp intake of breath when she saw the pink plus sign. She stayed with Olivia, trying to soothe her, realizing maybe it wasn't that bad.

Even when I'm walking on a wire,

Even when I set myself on fire,

Why do I always feel invisible, invisible?

Two days later, black chucks were tapping impatiently against the bottom of Olivia Ryan's convertible as Kristen directed her to a Youth Help Center. They calmly walked in with Olivia, speaking for the shocked silent blonde.

They were propped against her door as she studied, falling down from a vase hitting the wall in the room next to hers, the thin walls allowing her to hear every word her mother screamed at her father.

Those shoes were called into the principal's office, where Alicia sat sneering as Principal Burns demanded if it was true that she cheated on her finals. They fumbled around anxiously as Principal Burns screamed and screamed and screamed at her, what a disgrace she was to the school, how she would lose her scholarship. She didn't even listen when Kristen said it wasn't true.

Everyday I try to look my best

Even though inside I'm such a mess

Why do I always feel invisible, invisible?

These shoes were on when Dylan and Claire ditched her sweet sixteen to go to Massie's party. The shoes were still on when Kristen cried out tears of abandonment. Then, the shoes were sprinting down the stairs when she heard a terrifying crash from outside. The shoes stood still when she opened the lobby door and got a gust of fresh air in her face, and they were there when she saw Layne's beat-up Chevrolet embedded in the lamp-post, her and Dune in the car, unmoving, with a 'Happy-Birthday' balloon, unpopped.

Now, looking at them, they seemed so fragile, so frayed. It seemed impossible that they had survived that much. But Kristen tied them on, cautiously, her face expressionless but stained of tears, and walked out of her apartment, as oblivious to her parents fighting around her as they were of her, the cruel words they directed to each other bouncing off of her. She slammed the door, and headed up to the roof garden.

Sometimes when I'm alone

The sky was a beautiful blue, just starting to tinge gold and pink and orange. Dusk. It was perfect. A cool breeze cut through the dry spring air, tousling Kristen's hair around her face, her teal eyes staring defiantly out across the horizon, seeing everything and nothing, all at once. Down below, the city's lights twinkled happily, like stars, and somewhere in that happy place, people were laughing and hugging and joking, people were falling love, people were being friends. And none of them knew that up above them, someone so desperate for some attention, someone who craved love that was given to her and then she was deprived, someone so sad, was watching them, taking their lives all in.

I pretend that I'm a queen

In her mind, her memories flashed, quickly and blurring together.

It's almost

These shoes sprung up off the dark gray asphalt, elated at the feeling of flying, the laces coming undone and the tongue flapping out. Those shoes, those black, beaten up, weathered down, worthless converse, were with Kristen Michelle Gregory when she jumped off the top of her apartment and committed suicide.

Her last thought was that she was finally, finally, free of everything.

Believable


Yeah, um, some feedback would be nice. Like I said, first one shot and I was trying the sad angle, but I wasn't sure if it was too intense. And yeah, she killed herself in the end. Sorry bout that. I just wanted to try something new. I'd love me some reviews (hint, hint). And flames are accepted as long as they are helpful.

So. If you didn't like it. At. All. Please tell me. And give me some advice.

Bree

PS Yes I did change my pen name. It used to be BreeLemar101 but now it's this.