Winged

A/N: Yeah, this chapter makes a lot more sense. 18 hits and 17 visitors. I like to see how many people view my story. I'm like that.

Can you guess who the little Eraser boy in the last chapter was?

High School

I jerk up. That was some dream. Thank god I'm awake now. I shove myself out of the bed, strolling to my closet. A blue t-shirt and black, ripped jeans. I smell the breakfast food cooking downstairs, bacon and toast and something else. I've never had eggs before; I guess Momma just doesn't like them.

"Morning, Momma," I leaped off of the stairs and ran into the dining room, where my mom and little brother waited for me. "Decide to get up today, Ben?" I asked my brother.

He smiles and goes back to his food, ignoring my question. Typical Ben, he doesn't really like me. "Sarah will be here soon, go get your backpack." Momma tells me, setting a plate in front of Ben.

I grab my bag and leave the house, calling, "Bye, Momma! Bye, Ben!" as I leave. I walk back and forth on the sidewalk, waiting for Sarah. Sarah has been my friend since 3rd grade, when I put the science lab's hamster on her head. She absolutely hates animals. I don't know why, though.

Sarah. That was the girl's name in my dream! I must've been in Sarah's nightmare or something. Surrounded by mutant animal/human people, locked in cages, that was it. I was creating a nightmare for Sarah, and putting myself in it.

Sarah comes after a few minutes, in her brand new car. Why does she have to be two years older than me? "Wow," Was the only thing I could say, worried that if I said anything else, it would be bad.

"I know, right! I just got my license!" She squels, jumping in her seat. "Come on, Alyssa!"

I opened the red door and jumped in. "This is sweet," I said. I didn't prefer red, but I have to admit, it really fit Sarah. "I thought your birthday was like, two weeks ago."

"It was. I waited." She starts up the car and we drive off to our first day of school.

My only friend is Sarah. She's really popular, and rich. I don't know how I'm friends with her. Maybe because I stick up for myself, but stay hidden at the same time. Maybe because of the time in fourth grade, when we were on a field trip and a sciency-looking man came up, and I kicked him. Where it hurts. Mom risked enough money for me to have karate lessons. I love her for that.

We get our books at go to Algebra. I hate math. There's so many rules; it's like language, but more logic or something. Kind of hard to describe. Our teacher isn't a load of sunshine, either. He used to be one of the school's science teachers, until someone took his place. They say that the two often have arguments, and that it's actually kind of funny to watch.

"Good day, class. I am Mr. Chu." Giggles and chuckles spread like fever. "First lesson," They spread even more. His accent is so ridiculously funny that I risk cracking a smile, too. I glance at Sarah, whose pale complexion has a red glow to it. She trying hard not to laugh.

The door silently creaks open. Our principal, Mrs. Martinez, who is also my grandmother, steps into the room. She nods and leaves, giving me a look. I look at my desk and smile. Maybe high school won't be so bad after all.

I survive the first part of my day. The bell rings, and I'm up and out like a light. Lunch time. My great escape. I pull out my ipod and switched on my music. I mouth the words, moving quickly down the hallway to the cafeteria.

But all of her friends . . . stuck up their nose. They had a problem with his baggy clothes.

Why do people have issues with baggy clothes? We're not Comunist. If you like your freedom and self-expression, then don't mess with other people's.

He was a skater boy! She said, "See you later boy!" He wasn't good enough for her.

Man, I love skating. I wish I had my skateboard right about now. I pull up my crimson-colored hood when I entered the cafeteria; people surrounding me always make me a little nervous.

I get my lunch and sit at an empty table. I know what your thinking: why don't I sit with Sarah? Well, I don't like it. She sits with a bunch of cheerleaders and jocks and stuff. She understands that I'm not the most socializing person in the world.

I nod my head a little to the music. It's nice to sit and be alone for a while. I pull back my hood and let my brown hair fall below my shoulders. I'm not sure where I got my brown hair from. Maybe from my grandfather, but I don't know who he is. See, my dad left when I was about two years old. I don't know if he died or if my parents divorced; I don't know anything about it. All I know is that he's gone.

I finish my lunch and throw away the trash. I go into the bathroom and take off my jacket. My back has been bothering me for about a week now. I rub it. I hear someone coming and go into the stall. It's Sarah. She's probably fixing her makeup or something. I continue to rub my back, inching my fingers up towards my shoulders. I feel a bump. I wipe my hand over it, it feels like an actual bone, sticking out of my back.

I feel my eyes widen. I stick my other hand up my back and smoothly glide it across the area. One. Two. Two small boney bumps on my back, and they feel like they're growing! I draw in a breath. I rotate my shoulders and move my back, curious if I can feel the bumps. I can't.

I sigh and slip my jacket back on, stepping out of the stall. High school sucks.

A/N: This is really short. Sorry. I'll try to make it longer next time, but I wanted to end it there for now.

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