A/N: I didn't think I would get reviews for this, but I did-yay! Thanks for all the (yet little) reviews, people. Yori-chan, you guessed somewhat correct-I am writing this from my friend's POV; he is often pushed away from the crowd, as I, some times, but we cannot help our social lives. (I wish.)
Disclaimer: Don't own a single slice of CCS.

I'm LivingDead or Gone, part 2

As once more, the next day I am pushed into the withering crowd of people. Trailing as a flea behind Tomoyo, my faults seem endless-one day I'm stupid, the next I'm strictly a wannabe, the next I hither myself as a low-life who thinks she's Miss Thang. Miss All That. Miss If-I-hang-around-Tommie-I'll-be-famous. Can't anyone look past the glam and the glitz and the peach smelling shampoo in front of me? Or am I invisible?
The day wears on; this time I don't have math (Gratefully.) Still, I feel as if the earth wears down on my soul. Let me be, let me go! I want to scream at everyone. Just leave me alone!
Someone pulls my ponytail and laughs. I whirl around, expecting to see Tomoyo or one of her stuck up drones-but instead stands the glassy amber eyed, ruffled brownish hair Syaoran. His perfect hands still in mid air from the pull. Instantly my cheeks turn a deep velvety red and I feel a huge lump in my throat.
"Where's Tommie?" Syaoran asks, playing with his voice; making it a babyish, high pitched tone. Is he trying to mock me? "I thought your life was hers, Sakura. What happened? Has she decided to pull someone else's strings for awhile?" He and his friends laugh at...at me? Or Tomoyo? My head spins. What are they trying to do? Torment me or help me? I can't take it anymore. Swiftly, knocking my ponytail into Syaoran's perfect cheek, I rush the opposite way. Don't follow me, I plead with the air. Stoppit!
For a few minutes I run until I am breathless. I didn't know where I was going, but now I'm in the gymnasium, and there is a game going on. Tomoyo and her cheerleading squad are flaunting their perfect, skinny stomachs while they raise pom poms and arms, yelling cheers. I slip into a door, under the bleachers, and cry.
What should I do? I ask this question (a floating question) to myself every time....this happens. Was I made to live or was I made to die? After pondering for awhile, I hear a knock on the side door I'd slipped into.
"Yo!" A DJ's head pops in. "Anyone here?"
I cower in the dusty corner, holding my breath (partly so the Deejay doesn't hear me, and partly so I don't breathe any spiders in.
"Da coasts'is' clear, my bro," The DJ snatches a twenty from an unrecognizable hand.
"Thanks, man." The voice gets closer. "I owe ya one."
"Dun mention it."
The side door is closed and now all I can hear is a gravelly sound. My eyes are shut tight and I breathe into my jacket, praying they won't notice me...but then again, who does?
And then I feel something against my cheek.

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A/N: SO! It's the second chapter. This is a weird one, eh? Well remember, NO REVIEWS, NO CHAPTERS!!!!!!HURRY UP AND GET IT ON!!! (Ew, that DID NOT sound right!!!!!!!!)