A/N: I just wrote this for kicks. If anyone wants to see more, tell me, kay?
Disclaimer: Don't own a piece of CCS.

Gone

I thought I was always in Tomoyo's shadow. She had it all, or so everybody else thought. Love-looks-life-voice-riches-who could ask for more? I was her best friend to her, but to everyone else, I was a wannabe, an apprentice, a pupil, a speck, a loser, a low-life, and the list goes on. Even Syaoran Li, the hottest guy in school, had his eyes set on her. I wish they'd just tear their eyes away from her for a second and look at me without the glares and meaness. Just look at me for who I am.

"Yeah, so, I told him I was gonna be late and he stands me up..."
6th grade hallway. It seems I am hidden in the purple-black locks that befall upon my shoulders. The hair's not mine, but Tomoyo's. It looks like snakes, going to entangle in me, going to squeeze till my guts pop out. I jerk away, and if by coincidence, into Syaoran Li. He stares.
"Loser." He shakes me off and joins his cool group, and I am in the shadows again, forgotten.
"He stood you up? You should just break ties with him, Tommie." Tomoyo's nickname is only to be said by the popular people, as she said: "You say Tomoyo, they say Tommie."
The bell rings, and I am grateful. I rush off to Language Arts and bump into Meiling Li, Syaoran's cousin and fiancee'. She seems to be my only aqauntince, since nobody cares to know the speck of dust that trails after Tomoyo.
"Hello, Sakura." She says the name briskly, and then walks away, joining up with her poppie group. Am I the only who'd gone unnoticed? I sigh, and turn the which ways over to class.
As usual, my math teacher skimps on my name. "Is there anyone I didn't call?" Well, yeah, I think. I let myself hide. Math class gives me hives.
The day wore on, and as always, the blackness of Tomoyo's crude shadow envelopes me as I stay, strictly a sole step behind her. The only times she turns and talks to me are the times when she criticizes on my clothing. Criticizes on how I should put my hair into a chopstick ponytail, and not just a sporty one. Criticizes on how my backpack should be purple, and not pink. Criticizes...criticizes....and she tells me I am her best friend.
At the end of the day, only Tomoyo and Chiharu walk me home. Strictly walk me home. They seem to be talking to each other, and not me. Am I ugly? I think to myself as I look in the mirror after school. Sick? A geek? Too wannabe-ish? Too smart? Disgusting? A slave? There are no answers to these questions. Floating, I call them. Sakura's Floating Questions. The never answered ones.
Dinnertime at Tomoyo's. I only go here to eat. The food is resplendent-all the things I like, just for me. Tomoyo has her own platter. There is only a cucumber and a small vile of Italian dressing. It seems Tomoyo is always on a diet....I don't think she's fat. Sonomi, her mom, compliments me on my shirt, but I always know she is thinking the opposite inside-Ew! Yuck! Where-When-How-Ew-sick-nasty-
I want to die.