It didn't take as long as I expected to write this chapter. It only took me a day. The other two days I've been working on a different chapter of A Selfish Thing. I have the whole week off of school, so updates should come faster.
Thank you so much for the reveiws, alerts, and favorites! They make my day!
Here's the first chapter!

Max's POV

I woke up this morning to the irritating ring of my alarm clock. I opened my eyes to the house we just moved into a week ago, and sighed. Today is my first day at my new school as a Senior (Max is sixteen, soon to be seventeen. I'm still in middle school, so I'm not sure how the highschool catagories *if you can call them that* go. I think it starts wiht Freshman, then Junior, then Senior. Correct me if I'm wrong. Okay, enough talk). Needless to say, I was not looking forward to it. Who ever does? School started a month and a half ago, but that's still plenty of time for people to find their freinds and start up little groups. There's the Emos, the Jocks, the Mean-Girls, Nerds and Dorks, and the leftovers. With luck greater then what I already have, I would be in the leftovers. I would fit in the Emo catogory, but they still probably would't let me in. It's not like I'm to weird to function or anything like that, it's just I don't talk to people that often. After living with Robert, I've learned that just being quiet willl get you along.
Oh yeah...Robert. He's my step father. My real father died when I was Eleven. He was my bestfriend, even though I still had planty of good friends at my school at the time. He was just awesome. He died in a plane crash. That broke me, and I wouldn't talk for weeks on end. I barely ate, and I would just sit in my room and cry. When I wasn't crying, I was sitting on my bed staring blankly at the wall.

The pain eventally faded away when my mother started to date Robert. Six months later, they got married. At first, he was okay. A little rude to...everybody, and he would never replace my dad, but I toterated him.

But when I was thirteen, my mom was on her way to work. She was a social woker, like my biological father. That was how they met..anyway, getting off topic. She was on her way to work on a cold, December morning when her car spirled out of controll and steered int a ditch. She was dead upond impact.

I didn't even have time to morn over her death because that was when Robert started to show his true self. When we heard the news, he started yelling that it was my fault that she died. That if it wasn't for me, Mom wouldn't have to go to work to take care of me and wouldn't have to drive on the icy road. I was still in shock at his words when he smacked me across my face. I didn't fully comprehend what happened when he smack me again. Then he stromed up to his room and slammed the door hard enough to make the sound echo throughout the house. I just stood there, my hand on my cheek that would have a bruise the next morning, in shock over what happened.

It was never the same then. It was abnormal for me not to have a new bruise everyday. And I believed what he said about it being my fault that Mom died...and a small parrt of me still feels that heavy guilt when ever I think if that night.

It was when I was fourteen when he started doing drugs. He had a good job and only spent the money when he "Truely needed" it. Quotains at "Truely needed" because I don't believe drugs are ever the answer.

Well, now you know the current situation at home. I haven't cried in two years. I've toughened up a bit, I was never the type to cry often. But now it was like it was impossible for me to cry. I also haven't laughed in a long time, unless it was forced. See, Robert was a comidian, and will tell me his jokes to see if they're funny. They would have been funny if it was comming from a different man. I forced my laughter so I won't get a slap across the face, and I made sure it wasn't loud or high pitched so I won't irritate him.

Enough of that, I had to go to mini Hell..it was more like Hell's waiting room. I swung my legs over my bed, stood up and streached. I hit the snooze button my my clock and stood up, my limbs aching. I walked over to my dresser, and pulled out a long sleeved black turtle neck shirt. The neck part only reached mid-neck, and it was cold out so it didn't look unappropiate for the weather. I put it on along with dark blue skinny jeans and black ankle boots.

I walked to the bathroom and stared in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and my chocolate eyes looked dead and empty. There was a bruise on my cheek bone from when Robert hit me last night because I accidently dropped a plate while washing the dishes.

I sighed, and grabbed the fountaion on the counter. I don't usually wear makeup, only to over up bruises. I did wear eyeliner and mascara along with eyeshadow when I was fourteen, hoping to make people noticed me. It was when I actually started to get bullied when I realized I much perfered to being ignored. When my mother died, my social life started to drop. It was also when I started cutting, when I needed a way to get rid of the pain without crying. So the logical explaination was more pain to add to the abuse..please note the sarcasm. I started when I was fourteen, and just wouldn't stop. It made me forget everything, even though I knew that it wasn't good for me.
I just hope that school this time won't be so bad. I wanted to get through the day with as much ease as my life will give me.

I pulled my unruly light brown/dirty blond curls into a pony tail and straightened my sleeves, to make sure they covered every scar. When I deemed myself presentable (normally, I woudln't have cared. But now I payed more attention to my attire), I walked down stairs quietly so I won't wake up Robert. He was not a morning person, neither was I. The only thing I have in common with him, which I don't care to ammit.

I put two slices of bread into the toast and got out the butter. Toast was the only thing that I can make that won't set the house on fire, not inculding cerial (although I swear once I saw my Frosted Mini Wheats smoke when I mixed the milk in).

The toast came out, and I quickly buttered them while they were warm. I setted them on a plate and covered them with a cloth so they'll stay warm. I setted Roberts breakfast on the table and headed out the door with no breakfast. I didn't care, even though I love food. It's just right now, food seems secondary and un-needed. That made me skinnier then I once was. Back at my old school, people joked about me having an eating disorder, which I thought was nothing to joke about at all. About half the girls at my old school were in rehab at the time recovering from anorxia.

I walked out the door, making sure to close it carefully, and started walking to school. The neighborhood we moved into was small, and...for a lack of a better word; cute. The house had bright green yawns with white washed fences, like in those movies where a kid has a perfect life and a perfect neighborhood to go with it.

My house had two floors and had a medium wood and dark brown porch. My window was open, which was stupid, considering it's the middle of October. It showed my Skillet posters and Manga drawings I did when I was twelve.

I walked down the sidewalk, staring at my converse shoes when I heard a door open on the other sie of the road. I jerked my head up, out of curiousity, and saw a teenage boy-dare I say; a hot teenage boy-and a little girl with blond curls in low piggy tails. They were about to exit thourgh door of a house across the street and one house to my right of my house.

The little girl was wearing a blue shirt underneith her purple jacket and a white skirt. She made a show of shivering when she stepped out the door. She was so cute, with that little smile on her face as she reached for the older boy's hand. She looked about four years old (making Angel younger because I love little kids, and I thought it will be adorable).

The boy, which I assumed was her older brother, looked nothing like her. He had black silky hair which a part of it flopped over his eyes, olive toned skin. From where they were, I couldn't see much detail except that he was wearing all black.

The hot-emo-kid and his possible-little-sister started to walk the same way I was headed. I decided to follow, since I wasn't sure about where I was going. I assumed that they were heading to school...let's just hope that I was right assuming that.

So I followed them untill I found the school I was looking for. Salem Schools...simple and boring.
The school was huge (Yeah, I broke the rule of Showing vs Telling. Because I'm a rebel XP). One building was for Kindergarten and Preschool, another one was for Elemertery, then another one for Middle and the one for Highschool. There was another larger building which I assumed was the cafiteria, and a smaller building with two doors next to it, one door labled "Nurse" and another one labled "Princable Office". All of these building were a light greyish/blueish brick and were connceted to each other with side walks. In the very middle were four benches pushed together to make a square. Inside the bench square was a rose bush with white roses.

All around me people were rushing to their classes, which lead me to believe I was late. So I walked quickly while taking out my schedule out. First class was Biology in room B6. Okay...where the crap was that?
My next class would be History in room B2, then it's English in B3, after that it was lunch and then Gym, then Math in B22. Next is Creative Writing in room A5, Homeroom in C4, Art in H7 (Why was it so far back? Were they just putting random letters infront of numbers?), and after that I can sign up for Enrichment classes. I just might; the more I'm away from home, the better.

I sighed, looking at my list of classes. It's going to be a long day.

I crumbled up the paper in my hand and walked through the front doors of the Highschool building, and started looking for my locker, locker 86. People sent stares my way as I looked at the lockers, which were in no organized order.
12...54...31...83... I listed in my head as I searched for, what it might as well be, my non-exsitent locker.

In what seemed like forever, I found locker 86. It was in a cornor with a couple other lockers. I put in the combantaion, 61441, and started to stuff my school things into it. The bell was about to ring, so I quickly got the things I needed and started out at a sprint. It would not do good if I was late on my first day. But, as I found out, it would also not do good if you colide with someone and knock both of you down.

"Who did that?" Screeched the person I ran into.

"Sorry," I said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear and gathering up my books. I advoided eyes from the gathering crowd. I started to get up when the same nasually voice stopped me.

"'Sorry'? You made my skirt dirty! 'Sorry' isn't going to cut it!"

I glanced at the voice, and saw a girl wearing a short white skirt and a tight lavender shirt. Wasn't she cold? She had red hair and pretty green eyes, which would have been prettier if it was for the butt-load of eye makeup she caked onto her self.

"Oooohhhh," She started as if she came to a brilliant realization. She got up and straighten her hair. "You're new, you're a new girl."

I glared. "You're kidding, really?" I said sarcasicly while trying to walk around her, but she placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed by back to my oringanl spot.

"And you're mouthy." She said with a snarl. "Look, just stay out of the way, I we won't have to go to extreme measures."

"Who's 'we'?" I asked harshly.

The red head smirked and guestered to the crowd gathering around. "The whole high school."

I scoffed. "Yeah, I'm really scared." The Red Head Wonder looked taken back. "I've been through worse, try to match what ever you have up your sleeve with my problems."

I started around her again, but she pushed me back again. Getting fed up, I said harshly "Look, I just want to get to class, and if you keep us here, we're both going to be late."

That seemed to change her mind a bit, because she let me pass this time. I was lucky that room B6 wasn't that far from where we were, and I got in just as the bell rang.

"I see that someone decided to join us afterall," said the male science teacher. "Please take a seat next to Miss Mack at that table while I begin the Name Call."

I nodded and walked over to the table next and sat next to a girl with long gold, curly blond hair. She had light blue eyes with a touch of green in them and long dark lashes. She was wearing a shirt that said "M.A.S.H" on it and black skinny jeans. She was twirling a pan in her hand as she yawned. When I sat down, she shot me a friendly smile.

I read on the board that my teacher is named Mr. Lewis. He started the Name Call, and when ever someone was present, he would mark on the paper and mutter to himself 'present..' and when someone is late, he'll mutter 'tardy...', ect. ect.

"Maximum Ride?" He called, glancing up to find the owner of this new name.

"You can call me Max." I said, raising my hand slightly.

"Maximum is here..." Mr. Lewis muttered while people snickered at my name, just like what happened at my last school.

Hell has begun.

Sorry for any mistakes, I didn't proof read it so well.
Reveiw please?