–on a Monday morning.

An absolutely beautiful Monday. Ah, yes – the sun's glorious rays pierced the cracks of the blinds that hung above my window. Birds let out a chorus of melodious chirps and my heart soared in delight. Despite yesterday's terribly dreary day, accompanied with sheets of rain and dominant clouds, today seemed awfully–

Oh, fuck it. Who was I kidding? No one actually thinks mornings are beautiful, much less Monday mornings.

Sharp streaks of sunlight slipped between the blind's cracks and speared my shut eyelids, practically rendering me blind. I groaned, why couldn't it be cloudy like yesterday?

Turning on my other side, I squeezed my eyes shut and attempted to fall back asleep. Just as I felt myself slipping back into my unconscious – and, oh so beautifully blissful – state, a sharp knock to my bedroom door drew me back out.

Eyes still shut, I frowned. I didn't need to open the door to hear her (disgustingly perky) voice singing for me to wake up, and I most certainly did not need to see her right now. But, as expected, she didn't wait for a reply before barging right in. I could feel her painfully cheerful smile plastered on her perfectly perfect face she looked at me. Grumbling, I turned back towards my window – I'd much prefer the sun's perkiness to my sister's.

"Baby sis, it's time to get up now!" I despise that cheery tone and had to restrain myself from barfing. She remained ignorant to my growing annoyance and her footsteps began to approach my haven.

There was some shuffling to my left, then suddenly a bright explosion of sunlight hit my room sharply, stinging my eyes. "You idiot!" I roared in pain, drawing back. My hands flew to my face as I attempted to shield my poor, innocent eyes from the heinous sun's glare.

Turning back on my other side, I pulled my covers over my head and curled up into a small ball.

Olga giggled (giggled! Who does that on a Monday morning?), reminding me that I was far from having my troubles solved. "You need to get up some time," Ugh. Her smile was more penetrative then the sun. I could feel it through my pillows, blankets and shut eyes. "C'mon, baby sis, the bus'll be here soon!"

Okay, that's an upright lie. Even Olga know that Pete was slower than a snail slithering through a batch of peanut butter. Personally, I blamed his age – everyone knows how slow old people these days are. Honestly, I was waiting for the day I'd be greeted with the face of a newer, younger (erm, as young as you could get) and quicker driver. One that picked me up from my house instead of making me walk down the street.

. . . still, as much as I loathed to admit it, Olga was – shudder – not wrong. At least, not presently. It wasn't unknown for me to sleep in and arrive later then Pete. That sly bastard took too much pleasure in making me run down the street after him.

I sighed. Looks like I had to get up.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The morning light that hit my window stung my eyes and I hissed, drawing my elbow across my face. I shook my head and forced myself to shed any remaining glimpses of my dream before forcing my eyes open.

The first thing that popped into my vision was Olga and her dumb smile. I frowned, did she have to be so cheery about everything?

Propping myself onto my elbows, I rubbed my eyes and pinched my nose. "Olga, pray tell, what time is it?"

Olga clasped her hands and peered at the black watch on her wrist. "Mmm . . . 7:20?"

My eyes widened.

"7:20?!" I shot up like a pistol and looked straight into her mascaraed eyes. Olga drew back, holding up her hands in defence with a sheepish smile. "Did you just say 7:20?!"

The smile wavered. "Y-Yeah . . ."

"CRIMINY!"

Leaping from my blanketed heaven, I stumbled across the room and snatched the crumbled pieces of my uniform from the floor. "Geeze – Olga, why didn't you wake me earlier?"

Olga rose a brow and tilted her head. "Sorry, I thought you were gonna get up earlier . . ."

I sent her a baffled look. "Since when do I ever wake up earlier?" I shook my head, remembering the situation. "Oh, who cares? I only have a few minutes to get ready and down the street – ugh, I don't have time to argue with you!"

Olga simply winked and headed for the door with her arms folded behind her back. "Don't worry, little sis, I already packed your lunch for yo–"

She hadn't even finished her sentence when I'd slammed the door in her face and began shedding my pyjamas. Shimming into my grey skirt and shoving on my button-down, I realised that I'd forgotten to wash my shirt and there was now a chocolate stain on the left breast. I slapped my forehead and reached for my hairbrush, yanking it through my haystack of hair. There wasn't anything I could do about the stain until I got back. Tying my hair in its two usual signature ponytails, I scanned the face in the mirror. Yup, I nodded, I deem my eyebrows acceptable for the day.

Throwing my blazer over my black hoodie, I quickly applied deodorant and raced out the door whilst attempt to pull a sock onto my foot. I hadn't realised I'd reached the stairs until I lost my balance and–

SMACK!

BANG!

CRASH!

–fell down the stairs.

"Criminy!" I roared, rubbing my pained rear. I shakily climbed to my feet and limped for the kitchen. My eyes swept carelessly over the couch and met Olga's concerned gaze. "Olga, you dummy, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"Shh!" Olga sent a panicked look, placing a finger to her mouth and sharply looking at the couch behind me before meeting my gaze again. My eyes narrowed, I didn't have to know that it was Miriam she was gesturing to. Probably passed out and clutching onto her empty smoothie.

Olga obviously had no idea just how unconscious Miriam regularly was. Regardless, I didn't care if I roused her.

I snatched my school bag from Olga's outstretched hand and marched for the front door, not giving another glance to my passed-out mother, making sure to slam the door on my way out.

Outside, I was reminded of the earlier rain from yesterday from the wet concrete. Taking a calming breath, I ran a hand through my hair. Blinking the image from my head, I let out another breath, crossing my arms over my chest, and marched down the steps.

My foot hadn't even touched the pavement when a yellow blur whizzed past me. I blinked, flabbergasted – once, twice, thrice.

Was that . . .

Looking in the direction the yellow blur had gone, I realised that indeed yes, that had been the bus.

. . . oh my god, that was the school bus!

Shrieking, I bolted in its direction, heart pounding in acceleration. I waved my hands in the air, yelling out in some desperate hope that Pete would recognise the wild-looking teenager running to the best of her ability. Unfortunately, he didn't notice (bullocks, obviously he had, he just hated me) and continued driving.

The bus sharply turned at the end of the street. I gulped but didn't slow down. Rounding the same corner, I gripped onto the pole and sharply turned. Swinging around, for a split second, my gaze locked onto a pair of bright purple eyes.

My eyes widened – purple eyes?

I realised all too late that the pavement was still wet from last night and, within a few seconds, found myself flat on my back with a throbbing ankle. Hissing, I slowly sat up and clutched my wounded limb.

Rubbing my ankle, I found myself involuntarily seeking out those eyes again. I found them across the street and blinked. Those eyes – glimmering orbs reminiscent of amethysts – belonged to a black cat. The feline was perched on the roof of a parked car, tail swishing sharply in the air. It blinked owlish at me and I nervously drew back.

The creepy thing was barely moving, instead it practically burned a hole straight through me with its stare. I felt unnerved that its eyes never moved from my form. I got the distinct feeling that I was being judged.

What the fu–

Our apparent stare off was interrupted by a familiar honking from down the street. I jumped and looked over my shoulder. Apparently, the bus had decided to stop and was currently waiting for me, half way down the street. I frowned, feeling my face heat. That dumb old fart knew I'd been running and had only now decided to stop and wait?

I scrambled to my feet and dusted myself off any dirt I may have acquired from my little, ahem, trip. Before I left, I looked over my shoulder at the cat. It's big eyes were still trained on me. Gulping, I turned back and stalked for the bus.

The door shuddered open when I finally reached it. Pete pointedly ignored my heated glare so, gritting my teeth, I turned my gaze down and walked down the aisle. My back burnt from the annoyed looks thrown my way. I sunk low into the closest free seat and didn't look up until I felt the glares lessening when the bus sprang to life.

I pulled my hoodie up and slumped further in my seat. Instinctively, my eyes sought out and found a familiar mob of blonde hair sitting up the front, chatting animatedly to his best friend. My heart thundered and I barely restrained myself from smacking my forehead against the window. As usual, his back was turned in my direction as he remained oblivious to my very existence.

End me now.

I feigned looking out the window while secretly peering at him from the corner of my eye. Ugh, how I loved his messy hair that stuck up at awkward angles from his oddly-shaped head, sat upon his perfectly proportioned body. Thankfully, a benefit to school uniforms being mandatory was that it forced Arnold to ditch those awful flannels and instead wear shirts that let me appreciate the beautifully sculpted muscles layering his arms.

Ugh. I would die for his arms . . . and his eyes. Those sparkling orbs that could pull in anyone with their striking shade of emerald.

Dumbass hormones.

I sighed. I couldn't entirely blame my hormones. I mean, yeah, they were a bitch, but I'd been in love with the guy since pre-school. Could I really blame teenage sensations that I just got a few years ago? Hell, I was nine when I had dedicated a shrine to him made from his gum! Yeah, I was obsessed. Although, to be fair, you had to give it to me for the creativity.

I tried getting over him. Like, really, really tried.

I got rid of the shrine, threw away the poetry, cut off all contact I had with him. But alas, it appeared that one does not need social contact to admire Arnold Shortman. No, one does not need to speak with such a fair spirit to know he only utters the finest of words. One does not need to listen to hear the deep baritone of his chocolate melting voice. One does not even need to look to see how absolutely breathtakingly beautiful he is. No, Arnoldo was so perfect that human being simply cutting her ties with him could never cease the infatuation she felt for a man as exquisite as this.

So, in short, no – I hadn't gotten over him.

Arnold was, to put it simply, too good a person to simply get over. Anyone who wasn't aware of this was, in my books, a freak. Furthermore–

Screeeeeeeeech!

My head flew forward and collided with a thump! into the bar in front of me. I groaned, feeling an ugly headache forming. There was a buzz of angry voices asserting their annoyance at the sudden halt the bus had taken. Rubbing my forehead, I glared at the back of Pete's balding head.

What could possibly be so important that–

I almost cried – we were stopped outside of, ugh, Lila's house.

I threw another dirty look at Pete – sure, he had no problem stopping outside of Ms Perfect's house, but mine? 'Simply unnecessary, Ms. Pataki.'

My blood was boiling when the doors shuddered open and said perfect specimen stepped – nay, glided up the steps, hugging her books to her chest. She avoided our looks (you know, of the students who almost died) as she breezed down the aisle, her freckle cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

I hated to admit it, but Lila had only become more beautiful as time passed. She'd been cute as a child, but time had stripped her of her baby fat and blessed her with slender, delicate curves. Lila had ditched her braids and wore her fiery hair around her shoulders. Her baby eyes were pools of sapphires and electric blue. Yet despite her beauty, the uniform hung awkwardly from her body.

My heart lurched when Arnold straightened in his seat and watched her with the eyes of a puppy. Gerald, in response, groaned and smacked the heel of his palm to his forehead. "Lila," Arnold breathed, as if in the presence of an angel.

Hearing her name spoken, Lila's eyes flickered to Arnold's before uncomfortably turning away. She sat at the furthest available seat and forced herself to look out the window.

My stomach sunk as Arnold's face fell and his shoulder slumped forward from Lila's rejection. Swallowing, I turned back to the window, determined to ignore whatever was going on. But I still could hear some of their conversation. "C'mon, Arnold," Gerald sighed, turning to his best friend. "It's been six years, man. Six years. You've gotta let it go."

"I know, Gerald," Arnold grumbled, eyes downcast. "It's just . . . so hard, y'know? I mean, yeah, its been six years and . . . its hard to let a girl like her go. It's Lila, for God's sake – she's perfect."

Perfect.

His words rung in my ears.

Perfect. Right. Lila, she was perfect. Of course, it was her to earn his heart, without trying. Swallowing, my wet eyelids fluttered, and I dug into my bag, pulling out my phone.

Popping in my earphones, I scrolled through to find something sad sounding. A particularly song caught my interest, so clicking it, I rested my head back and shut my eyes.

I see you standing here

But you're so far away

Starving for your attention

You don't even know my name

I wanted to cry.

These lyrics hit particularly sore spots that I hadn't talked to anyone about.

You're going through so much

But I know that I could be the one to hold you

Placing both my elbows on the bar, I buried my head into my folded arms.

Every single day

I find it hard to say

I could be yours alone

You will see someday–

I gritted my teeth and sat up from my slumped form with a huff. This was supposed to be helping me, not making it worse. I pressed skip and sat my head back atop of my folded arms.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na,

The corners of my mouth tilted up as my feet tapped to the rhythm. Finally, a song I could relate to without feeling depressed.

I guess I just lost my husband,

I don't know where he went,

So, I'm gonna drink my money,

I'm not gonna pay his rent,

I got a brand-new attitude and

I'm gonna wear it tonight,

I wanna get in trouble,

I wanna start a fight

I breathed a relieved sigh when the bus pulled up in front of the school. It had been downright agonising listening to Arnold go on and on about Lila. Gerald looked how I felt – with his cheek pressed against the window and unintelligent groans coming from his mouth. From the back, Lila appeared uncomfortable, like she already knew she was the topic of discussion for the entirety of the trip.

Regardless of her disinterest in Arnold's affections, a surge of jealousy rushed through me any time he watched her, with that handsomely dumb love-struck face. I knew I should be happy that Lila had no interest but rejecting one of the nicest guys at Hillwood High didn't strike me as smart. If not Arnold, who could earn her affections?

Anyway, once we'd reached the school, I'd jumped to my feet, eager to leave. Before I could even reach for my bag, Lila had already made it halfway down the aisle. I noticed that, as she passed Arnold, she ignored his attempt to converse and quickly left the bus. My heart broke at Arnold's crestfallen look, earning a sympathetic pat from Gerald.

Shaking my head, I shoved my hands into my pockets and made my way down the aisle when, out of nowhere, someone's bag clocked me straight in the nose. Yelping, I clutched my nose (honestly, how could one go through so much pain in one morning?).

"Oh, gosh – I'm sorry!"

I froze, recognising that beautifully luscious voice as a warm hand clasped my shoulder. My eyes locked with his – bright green and flat brown. My hoodie had fallen from the hit and his eyes widened when he realised that it was me. By his side, Gerald seized up in alarm, realising my identity, and watched with bugged eyes.

Sparks flew from his touch and my knees buckled under my weight. It'd been so long since I'd been this close to him. I hadn't realised how much taller he'd grown – I barely reached his chin. His brow was strong and nose arrow straight. His hair flopped over his forehead and hung above his eyes. I had the impulse to brush it away, but thankfully my common sense restrained my inner nine-year-old.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to scowl despite the giddiness my heart squirmed with. I couldn't keep doing this, not anymore.

I slapped away his hand from his shoulder. Eyes widening, he stepped away with raised hands. It felt like a shard pierced my gut as he watched me like an untamed animal ready to attack. Gritting my teeth, I wiped my face free of the hurt travelling through my veins. "Watch where you're swinging that thing, Football Head!" I barked, elbowing past him. A thrill hit me after using that nickname after seven years, but I brushed it away.

My fists swung by my side as I stalked down the aisle. I must've appeared angry because Pete actually shrunk back when I passed him.

Two pairs of eyes burnt holes into my back so I quickened my pace for the building. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as I marched for my locker. I gripped my bag straps so tightly that my knuckles began to cramp, turning a disgustingly pale colour.

Head hung low, I pulled my hoodie back over my head to cover the tears that prickled my eyes. Pressing my forehead against my locker, I closed my eyes and ignored the buzzing chatter. My heart throbbed as Arnold's lovesick face ran through my mind. Breathing through my nose, I tried shaking those images from my mind, but I couldn't. I could only think of how much Arnold loved Lila, while he remained apathetic to me.

Well, who's fault is that?

Right.

It's not like it was either Arnold or Lila's fault. It was obvious that Arnold never had feelings for me – I'm not even sure if he had any platonic ones, let alone anything romantic. I used to be so cruel to him when we were kids. I never stood a chance against someone like Lila.

Little Ms. Perfect.

A hand suddenly slammed inches from my face and I jumped in surprise. My hands flew to my heart as I spun around and met the smiling face of my best friend – Phoebe.

"Pheebs!" I gasped. I could feel my heart racing at an agonising rate, doing multiple somersaults in my chest. "Don't do that!"

Phoebe grinned mischievously at me, not looking the slightest bit regretful. "Sorry," she grinned. "But I couldn't resist."

I glared down at her. I swear, Phoebe was the only person I knew shorter then Ms. Perfect. Honestly, you'd have a hard time believing her martial arts background given how fine-boned she was.

I stuck my tongue out and turned back to my locker, yanking it open to snatch my needed books. Phoebe leaned on the locker next to me, trying to get my attention with that annoying grin of hers. Why was everyone so cheerful today?

She opened her mouth to speak when a high-pitched squeal pierced the air, halting our conversation. All eyes zipped in its direction, which, I realised with irritation, had come from the cheerleader corner.

Or, more specifically, Rhonda Lloyd.

She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, sporting her short red cheer uniform and shaking her hands as if she were having an exorcism. It was obvious her scream wasn't of horror when she threw her arms around the neck of some (admittedly, good-looking) guy. My fine and deductive skills tell me this girl had just gotten herself a date for the prom. The guy squirmed under the amount of attention Rhonda was earning and awkwardly patted her shoulders.

"Ugh," I closed my locker and bumped my hip against Phoebe's, winking when she gave me a curious look. "Cheerleaders, right?"

She nodded, giggling. "It's about time Nick asked her," she rubbed her hands together. "I was worried for a moment."

I rose a brow. "Um, why?"

The smirk she sent me looked downright evil. "I had a bet going with Nadine," she explained, looking like a scheming supervillain. "If he hadn't asked by the end of the month, I would have to pay – now I'm twenty dollars richer.

I snorted. Must've taken place in one of Phoebe's after-school geek sessions. For the life of me, I couldn't remember which one though. If you asked me, Phoebe was signed up for too many clubs. But, hey, what did I know?

The familiar buzz of the bell rung through the hall, signalling the end of our socialising.

I groaned. "I've got double Bio."

Phoebe gave me a sympathetic look. She enjoyed Biology but was aware how much I didn't. "Good luck, H."

"Thanks – you too." I knew she had double English, which she hated more than the other multitude of classes she had.

We bid our goodbyes then spit, each going to our separate classes. I groaned and prayed the rest of the day would turn out better.

It didn't.

Not in the slightest did it get better.

Turns out my next classes was Algebra, not Biology. I had Biology third period, how the hell did I mix those two up?

Either way, I ended up barging into a class full of seniors and completely humiliating myself. Grumbling, I was forced to run to my actual class and arrived much later courtesy of my still-sore ankle. Mrs. Brown was not the least bit pleased; she didn't bother listening to my explanation and proceeded to let myself (and the entire class, for that matter) know that she was not happy with my tardiness with a long, long lecture. I became aware that Arnold and Lila were sat together at the back. I glared down at the tips of my shoes and cursed my horrid luck. Why couldn't he sit with Gerald, like he usually does?

When Mrs. Brown finished her lecture, I settled myself into my usual seat next to the window. Of course, given how much I hated Algebra, I ignored whatever it was that Mrs. Brown was supposedly teaching us.

But mid-way through the class, I became aware of a pair of eyes boring into the back of my neck. Chills ran up my sign. The stare didn't feel like it was coming from inside, but . . . outside.

Oh my god. Did I have a stalker?

My stomach lurched. Of course, another simply wonderful occurrence to mark down on today's list – slept in, missed the bus, injured my ankle, got hit in the face by Arnold, went to the wrong class, got my ass handed to me via Mrs. Brown and currently being stalked by a creepy man dressed in a trench coat.

I tried distracting myself by drumming my fingers along the desk, but the curiosity was killing me. Sighing, I craned my head to look out the window. I scanned the area for any creepy-looking suit-clad men but came up blank.

No one stood on the grounds.

That's odd. I could've sworn–

A pair of eyes popped out of the leaves of one of the trees in the middle of the yard.

I jumped in surprise and let out a small shriek. Squinting, I realised that those eyes belonged to that dumb cat from this morning. And, like earlier, its purple eyes were glued to my form. It didn't even blink.

"Ms. Pataki," Mrs. Brown's voice brought me back and the reality of the situation washed over me.

Right. I was still in class.

Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze from the window and was met with numerous bemused stares. Unfortunately, one of them was Arnold's. I felt my entire face glow beet red and forced myself to meet Mrs. Brown's look. Boy, she did not look happy.

So, I guess that made me her target for the rest of that double period. She kept directing her questions at me and I kept guessing them wrong – all of them. I scowled when Mrs. Brown lectured me for the fourth time and the rest of the class laughed.

Throughout the lesson, I couldn't rid that image of the cat's piercing eyes from my mind. I found myself regularly looked back to see if it was still there, watching my every move. It wasn't – it must've gotten bored and left.

When Algebra finally ended, I high-tailed it out of there. I made sure to occupy a seat far away from the window in my next class. Yeah, call me paranoid, but those stares were really creepy and felt too human. I didn't even like cat, especially one that analysed and judged me with its freakishly purple eyes. How were that cat's eyes even purple, was that normal?

I threw suspicious glances over my shoulder and flinched anytime someone would so much as sneeze. Not that I was scared. No, of course not. I just didn't fancy myself being stalked by a cat freak. Not how I envisioned my death, really. Personally, I always pictured myself drowning . . . yes, I had already planned it out. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't suicidal, but there was something poetic about it. Dying in one's sleep was awfully cliched but drowning on the other hand was dramatic.

I mean, just picture it; water closing in around you, darkness embracing you. Still, you fight, for as long as you can. Holding your breath, you kick your legs and struggle to break for the sun-speckled surface, but eventually they tire. Heart hammering, you realise no one was coming to your rescue and let go of that tiring breath. Cold water fills your lungs as all illusions of survival dissipate. The darkness pulls you in, swallowing you whole, as you send prayers that they'll discover your body and pass it on to your loved one–

"Ms. Pataki! Pataki!" Mrs. Belmonte's hands clapped mere inches from my nose.

I jerked back, blinking wildly. "Wh-what?"

"Jesús, esta chica." She muttered under her breath as she rolled her eyes. "Daydreaming again, Ms. Pataki?"

Only about my death, miss.

Well, I couldn't exactly tell her that, could I? Not without being sent to counselling to discuss the suicidal thoughts I didn't have.

So, I settled for silence. It was, after all, among the best of answers.

Apparently, Mrs. Belmonte didn't agree with me. Because she kicked me out of class. I cursed Purple Eyes as I marched out of the class, ignoring the snickers. I slammed the door extra loudly for good effect. In the end, I was forced to stand in the hallway for the rest of the period.

And lunch didn't hold the comfort I had hoped for – Phoebe didn't turn up. She must've had another one of her geek sessions. So, I was left eating my lunch alone, peering over my shoulder.

Home Ec. dragged on for what felt like months, when really it was barely an hour. By the end of it, I was seriously considering just heaving myself out the window to escape Ms. Scott's disgustingly chipper voice.

And it was fairly safe to assume Ms. Ainsley was having boyfriend troubles again, considering how brutal the lesson played out. For starters, we were forced to do fifteen push ups, twenty sit ups and run at least seven laps. And if she caught us stopping to catch our breath, she'd make us begin again. She then decided to make us play a 'friendly' game of volleyball. 'Friendly' meaning intense – extremely intense. I counted at least three students being sent to the Nurse's office.

I had the unfortunate timing of being caught bending over to tip up my shoelace so I was stuck singlehandedly packing up all the equipment. I gritted my teeth as Rhonda and her minions sent me snickers and barely restrained myself from smacking them.

By the time I had finished, my last period had begun.

Thankfully, it was English, my favourite and only class I actually tried in. We were receiving our assignments back today and I was more than excited for mine. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but my narrative had been pretty damn good. It was a story about a passionate love shared between two teenagers, separated by their different social statuses in school. The boy, Aaron, was popular, well-liked and a total blonde babe. Heidi, the girl, was the unpopular but beautiful nerd – shy, insecure and a mystery to her classmates.

One day, Heidi confesses her love for Aaron, how she yearned for him to touch her, kiss her – love her. Out of desperation to appear cool in front of his friends, Aaron pretends her feelings are unrequited and humiliates her by proclaiming he'd never go for a nerd like her. Heartbroken, Heidi leaves in tears and Aaron watches her go, guilt stricken.

Eventually, Heidi, no longer possessing the will to live with such a pure, powerful love going unrequited, decides to throw herself off the city bridge. However, Aaron, with his remarkable timing, shows up before she can go through with it and confesses that he too loves her. The couple embrace in the sunset, sharing their first kiss.

I could barely contain myself as I sat in my usual seat at the front when a feminine giggle caught my attention. My eyes were drawn to the doorway where both Aaron and Lila were, heading for their seats at the back of the class. It felt as if someone had punched me when Arnold's cheeks lit up at Lila laughing at something he said.

I forced my gaze onto my folded hands and blocked out their voices. Why were they even spending so much time together? The veins in my hands were popping as questions ran through my mind. Where was Gerald when you actually needed him, wasn't he Arnold's best friend? What's with Arnold spending so much time with Ms. Perfect?

"–so, I just can't decide which colour to go with," a low voice from the front rumbled. Looking up, I realised it belonged to Rhonda, who was perched on her desk, looking through some dumb magazine while her minions scrolled through their phones, pretending to listen. "I mean, red is my signature colour and its really flattering, but its also kinda typical, y'know? For me, I mean. Like, I'm always wearing it. I wanna pop, y'know and stand out from regular days and–"

Of course, Rhonda was discussing dress colours for an event almost half a year away. Makes sense, she already had her date, might as well snag a dress.

When Ms. Hartman finally showed up, I straightened in my seat, eyeing her multiple binders in her arms. She dumped them on her desk and, placing her hands on her hips, turned to grin at us. "Hello, students! So, I finally marked your papers," she announced, looking like she would just burst with joy. "So, guess what you're getting back today?"

She was met with a chorus of groans as everyone slumped back into their seats. Some even attempted to hide behind their textbooks or oversized jackets.

Yeah, that was gonna work.

I had a hard time containing my excitement when Ms. Hartman bean handing us our papers back. When she reached me, I tried searching for that proud grin she always gave me whenever I aced. But, lips pressed in a hard line, she avoided my gaze.

My eyes zipped to the mark on my paper and I almost let out a horrified cry. A 9/20 was circled in red ink on the corner of my paper.

My jaw dropped.

People either groaned or cheered when receiving their papers, turning to their friends and trading their scores. I was left in a dismay, eyes glued to my absolutely pathetic excuse for a score. Did this count as a fail?

Now standing in front of the room, Ms. Hartman cleared her throat. "So, if you have any questions concerning why you got your score–" her eyes flickered to mine "–just see me after class and we can discuss it."

Oh, believe me honey, we had plenty to discuss.

I knew I would be the only one to stay behind. The people who failed didn't care for English and those who received decent marks were satisfied. But waiting for the final bell was infuriating. I had to calmly wait in my seat while analysed themes in a movie I didn't care about. The entire time, my gaze was glued to Ms. Hartman, who got so uncomfortable that she began pacing up and down the room.

Oh yeah, she knew she had to deal with me.

When the bell rang and the students bolted for the door, I calmly stood from my desk, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and stalked to Ms. Hartman's desk. Hearing my footsteps, she gave a defeated sigh and slowly turned to face me.

I rose a brow, crossing my arms across my chest, and wordlessly demanded why, or rather how, I could have failed.

A muscle twitched at the corner of her right eye. "Look, Helga, you story – it's not terribly written or anything, it's just–" she struggled for the right word. ". . . its kinda, well, y'know? Uhh – dull! Yeah. It's quite dull and, honestly? Tad bit worrying."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Well, Helga," clearing her throat, Ms. Hartman's mouth formed a rigid grimace in preparation for the oncoming storm. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but whenever I assign writing assignments, you always base your topics around romance." Pulling her bronze hair across her right shoulder, she sat on the edge of her desk. "Which I get – hopeless romantic, right? There's no shame in it – hey, I consider myself one too. So, naturally, you can't help escaping into your fantasies while writing, right?"

Forgive me, but I fail to see how my perception of love has anything to do with this.

"Is there," I demanded, "anything wrong with that?"

"No, of course not," Ms. Hartman said, shaking her head. "However, given how much of yourself you, erm, project into your writing, the fact that you wrote of a girl who decides to kill herself over a failed romance worries me."

I didn't respond but could sense where this was going.

Clearing her throat, she continued. "I know, I know – I'm your teacher and I shouldn't be barging into my student's personal lives – but I'm concerned how you portrayed this girl's act of dependence as true love. You were really descriptive when you wrote of the heartbreak – you know how to properly vocalise her thoughts, even her suicidal ones, and I was wondering if you're–"

I held up my hand. "Look, Ms. Hartman, I'm not about to go throwing myself off bridges cause some guy doesn't like me." I paused, then added. "Not that there is anyone. No, of course not. Um, that was hypothetical. Strictly hypothetical. So, um, hypothetically I wouldn't." Ms. Hartman's deadpanned look unnerved me, so I quickly changed the topic. "So why does this result in me failing?"

Ms. Hartman shot me a questioning look. "Failing? Helga, you didn't fail per say." She paused when I gave her an unimpressed look and cleared her throat. "Well, anyway, as I've mentioned – yes, your story is kinda dull. It doesn't stand out from your other ones – they're all about passionate romances. Nothing outside of it. Your characters were two-dimensional and, outside of their 'undying' love, didn't have actual personalities. And the moral was kinda – erm, well really unhealthy. And honestly? Not your best written work."

Wow don't hold back there.

"So, bottom line was it sucked," I summarised.

"Oh, no, no, no – it doesn't suck. It's just a little . . . boring." She cringed at her choice of words but forced a weak smile. "Listen, I know how much you care about your writing, so I'll give you some tips – the next narrative assignment is in a few weeks. You remember, right? Rewrite a classic tale with a different approach. You're gonna have to write this with a partner, so why not open yourself up to something other than romance?"

I frowned. "Like what?"

"Oh, Helga, honey, there's thousands – millions of themes you can explore!" Her brown eyes sparkled, and she gestured wildly with her cardigan covered arms. "Prejudices, good vs. evil, family, coming of ages, friendships – the possibilities are endless!"

"But how can I write about something I don't know?"

"Research, honey." She answered excitedly. "Keep up to date with the news, read articles, other books, ask people, do a google search – research is fundamental for a writer to crafter their works." Scanning my face, she must've seen the cluelessness I felt. She smiled warmly at me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, which I didn't shrug off. "You're an intelligent kid, Helga. I don't know why you don't try in your other classes, but you're very bright. I know that not only you can get a better score in my class, but you can go so much further in the other subjects. You've just gotta break away from this slump you're in and explore things for yourself – not this hypothetical boy. Be willing to put yourself out there and just . . . live."

The ride home was a blur.

I sat at the back of the bus, hoodie drawn up and earbuds jammed in. My heart shook uneasily when my gaze returned to Arnold and Lila at the front, both chatting away and oblivious to the world.

Perhaps they would've made a great couple – maybe even Hollywood's golden couple. They were, after all, both remarkably good-looking, kind-hearted and popular. It only made sense that they would eventually fall for one another.

Arnold at least thought that.

He didn't stop there; even when Lila got off at her stop, Arnold immediately turned to Gerald behind him and prattled on about how breathtakingly beautiful she was.

I gritted my teeth.

". . . you're an intelligent kid, Helga."

I couldn't remember the last time someone had actually thought I was smart, much less said it. No one, including me, believed that I was, in any sense of the word, smart. English aside, I didn't try in any of my classes. Why should I? I could come home with Phoebe's grades, but it still wouldn't compare to Bob's precious Olga.

". . . explore things for yourself – not this hypothetical boy."

My eyes flew to the back of Arnold's head as he continued on about Lila's head. Gerald nodded along, but I could tell was slowly falling to sleep.

I knew I had to get over Arnold. But it was so hard. Because, when you got down to it, Arnold was a good person. I'd never met someone with a heart as pure as his. He was a pinnacle of all that was right and that made it hard to hate him. If he were like Gerald – you know, a prick – then yeah, I could do it. But Arnold's kind nature and simplistic outlook made it practically impossible to hate him. And if I couldn't hate him . . . how could I stop loving him?

Our stop was approaching. I watched as Arnold bid Gerald goodbye with an easy-going grin. Shaking my head, I dragged my feet down the aisle and avoided looking in Arnold's direction as we both stepped off the bus.

A few seconds passed, and my gaze fell to my shoes, stomach in knots. My pulse was pounding at my temples and I bit my cheek to ease the shakiness in my legs. Criminy, I was acting ridiculous – its not like he had even spoken to me for me to act like this.

Hearing his footsteps descend, I looked up to see him already walking up the steps to his home, not sparing me so much as a glance. Clenching my jaw, I turned in the direction of my home and began to storm off.

"Helga." His voice cut through me like knives but was so sweet to my ears. I stopped in my tracks, butterflies attacking my stomach, but didn't turn. "I'm, uhh, sorry about y'know . . . hitting you earlier."

The temptation became too strong and I looked over my shoulder, seeking out his warm eyes–

Uncomfortable.

That's how he appeared. His smile seemed forced and his fingers were rubbing the back of his neck. His unsettled eyes met mine for a second before turning down to his feet.

The silence between us was thick and unsettled me.

He was so uncomfortable – because of me.

It reminded me of the last time we'd actually spoke, how uncomfortable he'd been. Arnold could talk to anyone, bring down anyone's shields with just a smile, but when it came to me, the entire situation left him itching to turn away. But, like I said, he was too good a person to not apologise, even for something as minor as this morning. Even if it was to me, someone who had bullied him for years.

Nausea swirled in my stomach. The raw pain, the feeling of my heart breaking, was relived as I began to remember–

Golden rays pierced the burnt sky as the birds chirped an explicit background melody. How I wished I could grow my own feathers, sprout my own wins, so I could escape this uncomfortable scene. Breath paused in my lunged as I met his unsettled eyes, heart quivering like a quake.

The way he looked at me now was different from all the other times.

Eyebrows furrowed, he opened his mouth. "You l–?"

–no, no, no. I wasn't going to remember. This was why I dropped my contact with him – it was too painful to keep talking to Arnold when it was obvious how uncomfortable I made him.

Swallowing my pain, I didn't spare another glance and began walking home. I turned my music up so it blasted so loud that my ears throbbed, but I didn't care. I needed to get away from him. My heart felt like it had been sliced open and my throat clasped by a big, meaty hand.

I had blocked out those memories for a reason.

Ms. Hartman was right. I needed to et over him. It wasn't healthy and that simplistic yet disgustingly obsessive story I'd written was scary. I wasn't about to throw myself off a bridge, but its not like it didn't hurt.

"I'm home."

I shut the door behind me and took out my earphones. My voice fell on death's ears as the only person here was passed out on the couch.

I rolled my eyes.

For a moment, I thought that she hadn't bothered waking up at all since I left this morning until I noticed her change of clothing. Looking at the half-empty mug still clutched in her hand, I snorted and stalked up the stairs.

I didn't have the patience for this right now.

Slamming my door shut, I dumped my bag and flipped off my shoes. I made my way across my room, faintly aware of the moisture blurring my vision, and threw myself onto my bed. I dug my nails into the pillows and buried my head in the blanket.

When had everything gotten so pathetic?

My 'family' barely noticed my existence, my teachers had no faith in me, Phoebe rarely spent time with me and Arnold was in love with the most perfect specimen on this earth. Not only that, but he found me just as intolerable as everyone else did.

I just . . . I wish I could shed my skin and become someone else.

The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood straight. Bolting up, my eyes settled on the window. Or rather, the black cat with the unblinking purple eyes perched outside, calmly watching me.

I let out a muffled yelp and leapt up from my stomach, backpedalling until my back hit the wall. The cat's eyes remained trained on me, looking less then impressed. "D-Did you follow me?" I demanded, clutching my frantic heart.

The cat simply flicked it's tail.

Suddenly, a prickling sensation gnawed at my scalp, and I grimaced. Without my permission, my body stood up from the bed and crossed the room. I held my breath as I crouched in front of the window and electrical surges moved my arms to slide it open.

I swear the cat nodded before leaping inside. The moment my fingers closed the window, I regained control and practically leapt across the room.

What type of satanic voodoo Darth Vader shit was that?!

Crouched on the balls of my feet in front of my shut door, I stared down at my shaking fingers. What the fuck possessed me to do that?

Did it infect me with something?

Bouncing uneasily on the balls of my feet, I found that an infection was the only legit reasoning for why I had suddenly lost control of my body.

Criminy, now I was stuck with a diseased cat in my room, which would no doubt permanently leave me infected that would certainly take control over my body again, then I'd die because I couldn't get my hands on something to eat, then I'd come back to life because this illness was obviously of supernatural origin, but I'd be so hungry that I would start eating people, then my life would be ruined because that would make me a murderer and the cops would be after me, then Arnold would no doubt hear of my freak-ass and gather a bunch of his friends and pitchforks to hunt me down and I'd try to run away, but because that is almost certainly satanic, it'd zap me with something even more demonic and have me under its control again, then force me to do the chicken dance in front of Arnold, then my life would be ruined again, then–

Purple Eyes pounced onto my bed and surveyed the mess that was me. Squealing, I lost balance and fell to my butt, but kept my frightened eyes on the black body in front of me.

"W-What did y-you do to me?" I shrieked. "That wasn't me! You did something, didn't you?! A-And you've been following me all day – unless you're not that same cat, then I'd feel pretty dumb. Wait! No! No – there's no way some other cat with purple eyes has been following me all day! No, it was definitely you! What the fuck did you do to me, Purple Eyes? It wasn't permanent, was it? I don't want to do the chicken dance in front of my beloved! And why do you even have purple eyes anywa–?"

"Are you quite done?"

. . .

. . .

. . .

I looked around my room, searching for another human being. I mean, I hadn't left my window open or anything, but if purple-eyed cats could become stalkers, a man who could walk through walls wasn't that far-fetched.

Getting on my hands and knees, I peered underneath my bed, in search of any silhouetted bodies or beady yellow eyes.

But I came up blank.

I eyeballed the closed door to my closet. Perhaps–

"What on earth are you doing?"

My jaw dropped.

No way.

No way.

There was no way a British-sounding voice had just come from the mouth of that purple-eyed black cat.

"D-Did," I stuttered, eyes wide, "you just . . . talk?"

Purple Eyes looked offended with my surprise. It stuck up its nose in the air and . . . was it frowning? "Well, of course I can talk!" It burst angrily. "Really, you humans are such daft creatu– what are you doing?! Unhand me this instant!"

Ignoring how it squirmed in my hands, I searched its fur for some type of battery compartment or glowing light or a selection of buttons – I dunno, anything to prove that it was a robot. Obviously, it was some type of Japanese robot, fashioned to look s realistic as possible. "Where're the batteries?" I mumbled to myself as I inspected its triangular ears.

Purple Eyes had apparently had enough and clawed at my intruding hands. Hissing, I drew my hands to my chest to nurse the stinging as the cat leapt from my arms back to my bed. "Why, I have never been handled like that and I refuse to let it start now!" Its tail flickered wildly as it levelled a glare at me.

I sunk to my knees, unable to grasp that I was being lectured in my bedroom by a British, purple-eyed cat. "Y-You talk . . ."

The cat snorted – it snorted! – but cleared its throat, nodding. "Well, yes, I guess I can understand the bewilderment you must be feeling. After all, I've become aware that cats on your planet don't seem to possess the ability to communicate verbally with one another. Pity, really."

My planet?

"Anyway, I believe a formal introduction is required," its voice lightened in an attempt to sound friendly. "My name is Nel and I have been sent to seek out four potential Guardians that must defend their planet against enemy forces. This morning, I sensed quite a bit of potential from you, which is why I have followed you. I apologise if I startled you, but I needed to be sure that you really were one of the four. Now, I, without a doubt, believe that – excuse me, where are you going?"

Looking up from the door handle grasped in my pale hands, I met the cat's angry eyes. Purple Eye's – I mean, Nel's eyes narrowed at me and she sprung to her fours. Daze, I tapped my temple. "Obviously today has gotten to me worse than I thought," I admitted, more to myself then Nel. "I'm going for a walk to clear my head."

Nel sighed, sitting back down. "I can see you are having a hard time believing anything I'm telling you." Oh, believe me, sister, I'm having a hard time believing much more then what you're telling me. "For this, I do not blame you. Instead, allow me to prove to you that what I speak of is true."

And, with that, she began drawing random symbols in the air with her paw. I found myself sinking back to the round, my back sliding down the as I watched her. There was a bright flash and I shielded my eyes. A few moments passed before I opened them again and–

What the fuck?

–where the light had been a golden pin now floated.

Before I could blink, it zoomed in my direction straight for me. I closed my eyes and braced myself for whatever impact. On its own accord, my arm shot out just in time for something small to fly into my palm.

Immediately, upon grasping the object, I released a soft gasp as it felt as if a door had opened deep in my mind, inviting foreign sensations to travel through my veins. There was a loud buzzing in my head as colourful spots flashed around me. For a moment, all I could hear were those voices, numerous voices – whispering, singing, babbling, yelling. A sharp prick struck at the centre of my skull and the voices increased their volume. I couldn't understand their words, but they sounded strangely melodic, yet venomous.

Threading my hands through my hair, I held my ears and begged the voices to please stop. The pounding in my temples only intensified and I bit my bottom lip. Where were these voices coming from? What were they saying?

Then, they slowed to a stop and I was left listening to my ragged breaths.

What the hell was that?

Looking at my hand, I found the golden pin. Shivers ran down my body as I examined the warm metal in my hand. It was of a bird, spreading it's wings in flight, with a golden halo wrapped around it's body. I blinked, there was a tingling in my palms that didn't hurt but also wasn't comfortable.

Then, it pulsed.

I jumped.

"This is your personal transformative device – it allows you to unlock your true potential as a Guardian," Nel's words were lost on me as I stared at her. What the hell was going on? Sensing my puzzlement, Nel broke off mid-way through her explanation and sighed. "Right. Okay, how about this? Place the pin on your shirt and repeat after me: My Inner Guardian: Exorior." At my confused look, Nel snapped, "Just do it!"

Touchy much?

Still, what did I have to lose? This was some crazy dream or delusion I'd created to escape the sad dwellings of my reality. Who was it gonna hurt if I played along?

I cleared my throat, pushing my shoulders back, and stuck my nose in the air, ignoring Nel's sigh. Pinning the bird to my shirt and stretching my hand above my head, I shouted, "My Inner Guardian: Exorior!"

A warm – no, burning sensation surged through my veins as a beam of light shot from the pin and wrapped me up in an embrace. My vision was overtaken by a blinding white as I felt myself lift from the ground. Closing my eyes, I hung freely in the air, my heart fluttering and my stomach flying with glee at the overwhelming warmth that swept through me. I became aware of my hair growing in length, my clothes shrinking and something clasping along my feet and legs.

The warmth abruptly disappeared with a flash and my feet were gently placed back on the ground. Nel's flabbergasted expression was the first sight that greeted me.

I quirked a brow.

I felt strange.

No, not strange – great! I felt amazing. My brain was racing and my body felt strong – so unbelievably strong. Everything looked so – clear. So defined and detailed. And my senses – without even looking out the window, I could feel (I swear to god, feel) the air dampening and the clouds rolling in. Despite the shinning sun this morning, I could smell the humidity in the air and see the changing in light. Not only that, but I could hear things as well – Miriam's snoring from downstairs as she shifted around to find a comfortable position. The drink swished over the edge of her mug and splashed to the ground. I grimaced, Bob was not going to be happy when he came back–

Wait a minute.

Did I just hear Miriam spill her drink from downstairs?

I looked down at my hands and felt my eyes widen. Before my hands had been averaged-sized and callous with ugly, bitten nails. Now, they were larger, with baby-smooth flesh and perfectly shaped, French-tipped nails. And along my forearms were glowing white arm braces.

I leapt to my mirror and momentarily marvelled at how quickly I got there – I mean, it was like there was no movement. It was like I'd just thought of it and barely a second had passed before I found myself staring at an unknown face in its reflection.

My jaw dropped and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

The girl in the mirror – she was an ethereal beauty. Her hair was a platinum blonde and pulled from her face; two sections of her hair on the side of her head were wounded back into braids that joined across the top of her head like a band. The rest flowed gently down her back in soft waves, reminiscent of silvery curtains. She was tall – I'd say about 5'10" – and impressively proportioned. She had a small waist, flat stomach, toned legs and– holy fuck, boobs.

The girl wore a white leotard with a hoodie hanging from the shoulder blades. She adorned a pair of knee-length boots with impressive heels. In the place of the pin lay an enlarged version of the golden bird taking flight. Her identity was completely concealed – a white mask in the shape of a bird spreading its wings was plastered over her eyes and nose.

The girl . . . was most certainly not me.

I mean, yeah, she had blonde hair (kinda. Mine was more a dirty-blonde while hers was . . . not), but c'mon, since when do I have boobs? Mine had remained the same since I was twelve, I swear. And do not get me started on my lack of curves – this girl, on the other hand, not only had a curvy, but looked physically older. I couldn't tell her exactly age, but she was definitely not sixteen – she was at least an adult; roughly in her early twenties.

I spun around to face Nel and stopped to take in how quickly that happened. Okay, that was going to take some getting used to. Anyway, planting my hands on my hips, I gave her an accusatory look. Nel quickly shook off any remaining shock and narrowed her eyes.

"W-What happened to me?!" I demanded, then froze, dumbfounded at the voice that had come from my mouth. It was deeper than mine; a low but warm rumble, rich in tone. Nothing like my sound. "W-What the hell? What happened to my voice?! Wha-what the hell did you do?!"

"I told you," Nel replied with a cluck of her tongue. "You're a Guardian. You were born with some untapped potential – a power if you will. The voice is so no one can identify you when you speak."

"Wait, what? I have powers?" For emphasis, I pointed a finger to myself.

"Yes."

"No way!" A gigantic grin spread across my face. "What, what! Is it laser vision? Flying? Shooting fireballs from my fists? Moving things with my mind? How about–?"

"I'm not quite sure yet," Nel interrupted, frowning. "However, as soon as that pin meshes with your DNA, you are granted physical capabilities greater than average humans."

"Physical capabilities?" I parroted, tilting my head.

"Yes," Nel nodded. "You should find your strength is boosted, your healing factor heightened, your speed–?"

A sharp screech tore through me like glass and pierced the air. In sync, Nel and I both jumped. Bowing my head, I covered my ears to block out the horrid sound, but it did nothing. Nel grimaced and drew back her ears flat against her head. My heart thudded in my ears and the hairs on my neck stood straight.

"W-What the hell was that?" I demanded once it had stopped. I turned to Nel still cupping my ears.

Nel leapt from her spot on my bed, padding across the room, and peered outside the window. "An attack," she answered solemnly.

My heart jumped in my throat. "What?"

Nel turned back to me, looking deadly serious. "You remember what I said about enemy forces?"

My eyes went from Nel to the window and I found my legs pulling me towards it. The sky, as I earlier had noticed, was darkening; dense clouds covered the sun as bitter winds whipped ferociously at Hillwood. Sheets of rain fell from thick blankets of clouds, battering down on roofs like bullets.

I was pulled from Nel attempted to open the window. "What're you doing?" I said, wrapping a hand around her torso and pulling her from the glass.

"Listen, Helga!" She barked, scaring me with her force. "That scream means that, somewhere, a Mutant has spawned and is on the hunt for victims. And its your job as a Guardian to protect your people!"

"What?" My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

I grimaced at her choice of wording but covered it with a dismissive snort. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it was only five minutes ago that I witnessed a talking cat – now all of a sudden I'm some type of superhero? Forgive me if I'm not jumping for joy."

Nel looked irritated but, closing her eyes, released a calming breath. Her frown softened and opened her eyes to look up at me. "I understand, then. I know it is asking a lot to suddenly be told you're one of the sole protectors of this Earth and must be the one to defend it from enemy forces. And, believe me, if I had another option, I would take it. It pains me to force such a responsibility onto such a young girl, but there're no other options. So, I beg of you, please help defend your world – your home – from the dangers that await it."

No.

I wanted to reject her – to reject this. I know I had wanted to become someone else, but criminy, I hadn't meant this.

I opened my mouth with the intent of declining the possibility of becoming a Guardian, when another shriek cut through the air. We both winced and covered our ears. "If you don't," Nel bit out above the high-pitched squealing. I looked up from my boots and into her hardened purple eyes. "Then everyone you know, anyone you could possibly love – everything on this planet – will be destroyed. If not today, tomorrow; if not tomorrow, the next day. Personally, I give it under a month."

Sweat drenched my skin as, for a second, a familiar blonde-haired figure flashed before my eyes. My stomach began to knot itself into tight cramps and I shook my head of his charming smiles and kind words. No, not now, damn it!

Heart hammering, I thought of Phoebe, her dark eyes glimmering with amusement as she yet again managed to scare the living daylights out of me. A small smile touched my mouth – Phoebe, the only one to stick by me throughout these years. We hardly saw each other anymore, but I still loved her as much as I did as a child. She was my best friend. I wasn't about to let her – or anyone die from some Scooby-Doo freak.

My fingers glided along the smooth metal of my mask. For whatever reason, I was given the task to protect this planet. It was me that this pin had chosen.

I turned my back to Nel and slid the window open. Releasing a slow, calming breath, I looked back at the cat. "Criminy. Let's . . . get this over with then, yeah?"

I was surprised when our next move was to leap from my window.

I mean, my room was on the third level of the house, so mid-jump, I realised my legs should be shattered (especially considering these boots). But, when I landed, my ankle didn't so much as roll. Instead, I landed gracefully on the balls of my feet.

I didn't get the time to marvel at this when Nel shot off like a dart in the directions of the screeches. I followed her but stumbled upon seeing the world with new eyes. I spied every raindrop before it splattered and smelt different scents as we whizzed by multiple houses.

I wanted to stop when we passed Arnold's house – even from outside, I could hear the multitude of his family's voices. But his I couldn't detect. I quirked a brow, was he not in tonight?

Nel's glare brought me back and I gave her a sheepish grin before we both took off again. A minute had barely passed when I found myself behind a building, observing a deserted park.

Well, almost deserted.

Gripping the edge of the building's wall, I leaned around to scan the situation (situation – yeah, good word, Helga).

The monster had it's long, meaty hand wrapped around the neck of a young man. I narrowed my eyes when a yellow cloud of smoke bathed the man's face. At first, he struggled – he kicked, screamed and clawed at the hideous hand – but his movements weakened as the monster drew more and more smoke in through it's vile mouth.

I gulped, taking in the monster's form. Legs like tree trunks, it towered over the man with protruding eyes that glowed with delight as its nail sunk into the man's neck. Heart throbbing, my eyes traced it's deformed state and the reality of the situation all hit me.

Yeah, no thanks. I so did not sign up to get viciously murdered tonight, thank you.

"Helga!" Nel hissed, glaring at me as a bright beam of light shot out from the screen clutched in my hands.

I turned to her, confused. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

I scowled at her bewildered look. "Um, what do you think I'm doing?" Because, really, wasn't it obvious? "I'm obviously calling the police! Criminy!"

Because apparently one of the perks of having larger breasts was possessing enough room to store your phone in your bra.

There was a silence.

Now, I wasn't a professional, but to me, it seemed a little odd that there was such a pause in resonance activity, when not two seconds ago I could hear a man struggling against a evil-looking alien.

In sync, Nel and I exchanged panicked looks before our eyes darted in the directions that the monster stood. My breath was caught when I realised the monster's eyes were settled on my quivering form.

It snarled, baring its three rows of ugly teeth, and narrowed its bulbous eyes. Ripping its bloody nails from the man's neck, it dropped the man to the ground and stepped over his unmoving body. And, like a dart, the monster took off in my direction, shaking the ground with its bounds.

I gulped.

Oh, hell no.

Nel's ears folded back as she glared ferociously at the monster. "Alright, Helga, now's your chance. As a Guardian, you should possess enough strength to – Helga?" Looking to her side, Nel realised that I no longer occupied that spot anymore and my abandoned phone now lay next to her feet. No, I already had begun running before the monster had even taken it's first steps.

I practically threw myself into the largest bushes I could find, determined to hide until he got bored and left to terrorise someone else. Oh, don't judge me – you would too. Apparently, I was a much better hider then I thought, since the monster had lost sight of me and currently was search underneath park benches.

Annnnnnnd that, my dear readers, is when Nel revealed my position, which was how I found myself here – running from an eight-foot tall alien, dressed in nothing but a white leotard and heels. In the rain, no less.

"Stop!" I cried over my shoulder. "Just leave me alone, you freak!"

Unsurprisingly, the monster did no such thing and continued to chase me. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as its pounding feet only grew louder and faster.

I tried to turn at the corner but slipped on the wet leaves and landed flat on my back. The wind was knocked out of me and the cold air shocked my lunged. The footsteps were quickly approaching and I struggled to my feet. But, before I could take a step, a crushing blow came down on my skull and I was sent reeling back, landing a few feet with a sharp crunch! Whimpering, I spat out a mixture of salvia and blood.

Breath shallow, my stomach squirmed when the monster began approaching, grinning maliciously at me. I shakily climbed to my feet and tried to run, but the spinning world sent me down onto my stomach.

Helga, what are you doing? Nel's voice echoed in my ears. I shrieked and whipped my head up, looking around wildly. My eyes landed on the dark feline, watching in horror from a tree. Get up!

I scowled. "You fucking try fighting this asshole then, if its so motherfucking easy!" I barked. How dare she critique me whilst she sat in the safe havens of a tree, watching me get the life beaten out of me. I mean, did she have to fight an evil, ugly monster while dressed in the most impractical get up? (Note to self: If, and that's a very big 'if', I get out of this alive, I'm gonna have a word with Nel about this stupid thing).

The monster slammed it's mere inches from my face into the ground. My skin crawled as I looked at it's disgusting foot, sprawled like tree roots, and craned my neck upwards, tracing up its thick legs, ashy body and bulging eyes.

I felt myself turn cold when the monster pulled its fist over it's shoulder. My heart raced frantically, but I couldn't move my body a fraction. Letting out a scratchy cry, the monster's fist came down. A scream ripped itself from my throat and I lifted my arms up in front of my face and squeezed my eyes shut.

. . . and felt nothing.

There was a loud crackling buzzing in my ear. Vibrations slithered up and down my arms as my neck hairs stood straight. Something shook in my stomach.

Slowly, I peeked open one eye–

And gasped.

The monster's fist was pressed up against a thin, shimmery blue wall that had formed at the tips of my fingers. My ears pounded as I examined the swirling patterns that danced along the blue light.

It – it was a barrier.

Helga, Nel's voice ran clear through my mind. I looked up, finding her wide eyes easily. That's your power – forcefields!

The barrier's brilliant haze almost rivalled the harsh bulbs of the monster's eyes. Amber narrowed to slits as it let out a ferocious roar. I almost peed myself, but before I could even scream, the monster threw another punch at the wall. It felt as if my skeleton was vibrating inside my body, but the wall remained strong, whispering cackles in my ears.

A light bulb suddenly struck me. I brought my hands close to my chest then pushed them towards the barrier. As expected, the barrier stayed at the tips of my fingers and sent the monster flying.

I smirked.

Good job, Helga!

Damn right, 'Good job, Helga'.

As I climbed to my feet, I realised that the rush of power left me feeling extremely drained. Not only that, but I was beginning to take notice of my injuries. Something warm soaked the back of my head and I knew it wasn't the rain pelting down on me. Something dripped into my eyes and I swiped at it. Looking down at my stained hand, I balled it into a fist. Rain hammered down like a hail of bullets, soaking me to the bone, but I didn't care. Spitting out another ball of reddish salvia, I pulled my hoodie over my head and muttered, "Oh, it's gonna get it now."

Multiple gasps caught my attention. Blinking, I looked up and felt my jaw go slack. There – on the edge of the park – stood a growing crowd, of probably twentish people, watching the entire thing. Some even had their phones out and had been filming.

Shit.

I didn't know hoe to properly act in this situation, so I settled for glaring at them. What? Who decides to record something like this from the sidelines with my ass on the line? "What are you all doing?!" I demanded. "Don't you all see that monster? Get out of–!"

Helga! Look out!

"Huh?"

Looking over my shoulder, my eyes widened as a giant fist came right at me. I ignored the gasps and cries from behind me and quickly dodged it. The monster glared daggers but I turned on my heel and bolted in the other direction. "How am I supposed to defeat this thing?!"

Helga – inside your boot!

"What?"

Look inside your boot! Quickly!

I hid behind a nearby tree, slumping against its trunk to catch my breath. My heart was racing in my ears and my breath came out in short puffs. Bending down, I reached into the leg of my boot, pausing when my fingers brushed a unfamiliar item.

Did you find it?

Pulling it from my boot, I grasped it in both hands. It was the size of my forearms and had a double-edged blade forged from silver. A set of strange writings were carved into the blade and the hilt was an ethereal shade of white.

Sweet.

Looking up, I shrieked when my vision as filled with an approaching fist. I barely managed to roll over, hugging the dagger to my chest. The monster's fist flew past me and smashed into the tree. I watched as the trunk was ripped from the ground and landed with a tremendous crash onto its side. Screams sounded from the crowd and the monster's eyes flashed as it turned back to me.

I gulped. Way to go, Helga, you made him angry.

Stop running away, Helga!

The monster snarled and swung its meaty fist again.

Only this time, I was ready.

I quickly brought up a blue shield and gritted my teeth when its fist made contact with it. My muscles strained and vibrations ran through my body as it repeatedly bashed its fists into the wall, one after another.

"You know–" I gritted my teeth, panting hard. I met it's malevolent look with a glare of my own. "–you seriously are ugly, asshole!"

I thrusted my arms forward and sent the monster stumbling backwards. It was momentarily defenceless, but that was all I needed. My fingers curled tightly around the hilt and, wheeling my arm backwards, I sent the blade into the air.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The world froze as I watched in anticipation as the knife sliced the velvet air. I didn't hear any words leaving the mouths of the watching crowd. Everything stopped, except the spinning knife.

It lodged itself deep into the monster's torso.

My eyes widened as the creature let out a high-pitched howl. I covered my ears from the terrible sound.

Helga, get out of there now!

I obediently spun around and bolted, mustering any remaining strength to put distance between me and the monster. I barely had taken a few steps when I was swept off my feet from a sudden explosion and sent flying.

The impact knocked the wind from me and I landed roughly on the pavement. Landing on my belly, I was winded and struggling to breath. For a few seconds, I rigidly lay there as my mind replayed the events, over and over. I rolled to my side and blinked. Did I just . . .?

My body acted on its own – in a flash, I sat up straight with my arm stretched out in front of my body. The knife returned to my outstretched palm and my fingers curled around it. Looking down at the blade, my eyes widened as I caught the glowing writings winking out of existence.

I breathed loudly, and my eyes found Nel, whom looked both surprised but relieved at my success. She sent me an approving nod, which I returned with a crooked smile. I suddenly became aware of the cheering and applauding of the crowd. Turning to their direction, I scanned the faces in the sea of people, taking in each of their grins.

I stiffened when I recognised one of those faces – Arnold.

A flash of panic sent my heart racing as millions of questions buzzed in my mind. How long had he been there? Did he see everything? Did he recognise me? I couldn't tell if he recognised me, he looked like he were in too much shock. Gawking at me, he was amongst those who clapped, with disbelieving eyes that no doubt were questioning everything they'd witnessed. The longer I stared, the more faces I began recognising; I spotted Gerald, Sheena, Sid–

Helga, we best be going.

I looked in Nel's direction, but she no longer resided where she'd once stood. I heard sirens approaching and decided now was a good time to get out of here.

I turned to leave–

"Wait!" I froze in my tracks but didn't turn around. It was silent, no one dared to say anything, except the speaker, who I recognised as Sheena. "Please, who are you?"

I didn't reply right away.

Instead, I focused on controlling the frantic giddiness of my heart. Clasping my shaking fists tight, I turned back to face them unabashedly.

"Blue Jay–" My voice was strong. "–My name is Blue Jay."

And boom! That's a wrap! I don't actually know when I plan to update this story - this is more a test drive then anything. I haven't written any other chapters and just wanted to see what type of response I got from this. So, if you enjoyed this or are in some way curious as to what happens, let me know with a review and I'll work harder to finish writing the next chapter.

So, for some unneeded context, I don't actually know why I thought up this idea. I just freaking love magical girls - it's one of my favourite genres since a) feminism and b) the possibilities are freaking endless! It's interesting to explore you characters through how they react to getting powers, risking their lives for other, keeping it all a secret and all that crap. I never get tired of reading magical girl AU's and decided to mix it with this fandom.

Also, the songs used in this chapter were: Yours To Hold by Skillet and So What! by P!nk

Anyway, yeah, as I said before, be sure to drop a review to let me know if I should continue with this, or give me some constructive criticism or even just a question. I dunno, reviews are really encouraging and do make me work harder. Hope y'all enjoyed reading this though!