The music streamed around me, and the wind contorted my short, dark hair into strange shapes. A faris wheel rose on my right and behind me was a rollercoaster. The smell of chips and other fast foods hung in the air as I listened to the band play. My friends flanked me on either side.

"Hey Celia," the one furthest on my left called for my attention. I turned slightly to show that I was listening. "Do you reckon the band's alright?" It might have seemed to others that she was asking out of curiosity or something to say to pass the time, I knew better. What my 'friend' really wanted to know was if it was okay to say that she liked the band.

She was one of those hangers on that wasn't really attached to any particular clique at school, so had joined my clique until such time as her social status improved enough so that she could join the most popular group. She was trying to improve said status by copying everything I did, advertising to the world my likes and dislikes, generally over agreeing with anything I said and being a huge suck up.

Most people with high social status enjoy being pandered to. I dislike the entire stupid system; this adds to my popularity and ensures that people like her will inevitable try to use the damned system with me.

Not all of the people who hang round me are there for the status of it. Those currently standing closest to me; Sarah, Amy, Matt and Ryan are my actual friends. They also hate all that is the hierarchy of high school, but are less vocal about it.

I let out a frustrated sigh that no one can hear because it is immediately snatched up by the wind and drowned out by the music.

"Yeah it's good." I shout at her over the music. I predict that she will hence go on insufferable about how amazing they are and possibly raving on about how gorgeous the lead singer is.

The girl smiles and starts a gushing monologue on their sheer brilliance, and oh isn't the lead singer hot! I smile and laugh at her predictability. She looks puzzled and a little crestfallen. This makes me laugh harder, Amy shares a grin with me completely understanding what is going on. The others are all hiding smiles.

Reaching out, Ryan ruffles my hair improving on the damage the wind has already done to it, making it stick out in lopsided spikes.

"Celia, let's move. This band's getting real old." he hollers, I suspect that he actually doesn't mind their music and is only saying so to bug our current hanger on.

I nod my agreement and stride off, leading friends away. The girl pauses for a while, obviously wondering wether being popular was worth putting up with me and mine. Deciding the affirmative she chases after us.

Crouching in my messy room, I rummage through my school bag. I came home from the carnival five minutes ago at 2000 hours, and am now seeking to do my homework. Seizing my homework diary, I flop on my bed and go through it.

Science; nothing. English; I have to read for ten minutes. Sose; there's that annoying assignment, no way I'm gonna start that, I've got another three weeks before it's due. Maths; I have to study for an exam I've got tomorrow.

The idea of me studying is weird one. The whole school knows that's one of my taboo activities. Celia Deuska does not tan, Celia Deuska does not date, Celia Deuska does not study, etc. The point was I wasn't going to do it. I know I'll get nigh perfect marks anyway, I'm good at maths.

So without any homework to do I just lie on my bed with my hands under my head, and listen to the cars go by. I reflect on my life. It's pretty good. My parents are still together unlike many of my peers. They're both doctors which means I'm lacking for money, of course I'm not rolling in the stuff either, I hope I'm not too spoilt, or stuck up. My friends are loyal and intelligent and being the centre of my group is definitely likeable.

A weird feeling goes over me and my heart pounds in my chest. I can hear it racing beating both faster and harder than it did last time I ran an eight hundred metres. It's becoming hard for me to breathe, the walls of my throat feel oversized and I have trouble getting the air in.

The noise of the cars on the nearby highway shuts out, and then I can't hear anything. My sight goes all fuzzy, and then grey and I can't see. I try to call out to my mum so she can tell me what's going on, but I can't move my mouth, I can't move at all!

A creepy feeling of being watched like an unimportant bug on the ground, by something much more powerful than me, runs up the back of my neck. I feel as if I'm being judged on whether or not I'm worthy, of what I don't know. It's a scary feeling and I don't like it, but it only lasts for a moment.

Then the feeling passes and I'm left clutching at the sheets, gasping while my functions are returned to me. I feel as If I'd just had a bad asthma attack, been pummelled by a boxer and struck by lightening. A headache starts to plague me.

The cars outside suddenly sound ominous and the walls seem to trap me. I feel claustrophobic. I shut out that thought angrily before it could go any further. I don't get claustrophobic. I'm not 'ever' afraid. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me. I decide to ignore that trapped feeling, maybe it'll go away.

To my unending frustration the feeling only gets worse. I need to go for a walk. It was beginning to dark outside so I can't just waltz out the door. There was no way my parents will let me.

That left two options, the first was giving up. I was not going to not go for a walk now that I had decided I would. Celia Deuska does not give up. So I choose the second option which is leaving by a different exit. Namely, the window.

I vacate the spot on my bed and make sure that my door is well and truly locked. It will not do for either one of my parents to find out that I've left through my window, to go on a moonlight walk at night.

I pull up the blinds, open the window, yank out the flyscreen and shove it under my bed. Then I jump onto the window ledge and close the window behind me.

The window must be about three metres above ground. It sure looks a fair way down from my vantage point. I grip the ledge and hang off it. Then I let go.

I reach the ground unharmed, but feeling less like wanting to go for a walk. Wait a second. Oh, I am 'so' dumb. My bedroom window was three metres above ground. That made me three metres below the window that was supposed to be my entry point back into the house. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Grimacing at my own stupidity, I stalk off down the darkened street in a huff. Walking at night is calming. I'm not afraid of the dark, of course. I've never been. When I was six, I came up with this idea that since all my friends were afraid that there were things in the dark that were going to attack them, I should pretend to be, not one of the people who were afraid but one of the things that were attacking.

Walking at night, normally for me is a tantalising experience. Tonight I felt all the freedom of nigh time and darkness that I normally do, with a little extra. Feelings I've never had before well up inside me. I want to break into a run and hunt down prey. I want to growl as I stalk and kill my inferiors. Confused I control my primal instincts.

I estimate that I've walked around six kilometres, since I've reached a nightclub about that distance from home. Loud music emanates from the building and I can only imagine what horrors it would inflict upon my eardrums if I was actually inside. I spy a table and chairs, so I sit down for a bit. The unpleasant smell of cigarettes is emanating from the building.

The slam of the nightclub door startles me as a couple of drunks are escorted out by the bouncer. I look at my watch, it's 2045 hours. I freak out at the time and decide to leave too.

A hand grasps my shoulder and I stiffen as I turn around. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes accosts me, and my nose curls in disgust. The drunken man presses his face close to mine, invading my personal space.

I look towards the bouncer wondering if he'll get me out of the situation. The guy's just watching with an amused expression. What a Jerk!

"Give me a kiss luv." the drunk orders.

Reacting with an instinct and speed that until then I didn't know I possessed, I elbow the drunk in the stomach. As he stumbles I shove a fist into his nose, not nearly as hard as I'd like to. Blood splatters onto me and the drunk groans and collapses. Repulsed I wipe my hand on his shirt.

Making a rude sign to the bouncer who didn't help me one bit, I stalk off back home in a temper.

I arrive at the front door to my house after trying unsuccessfully to grab the window ledge. The door is of course locked so I have to go fetch the hidden key. The house is silent, and I hope to whatever deities might be listening that everyone is asleep.

I enter the house and promptly trip over the cat who must have been trying to get outside. I then begin the difficult journey to my room via the kitchen and the living room trying to run into as few objects of furniture as possible.

As I miserable fail my mission with crashing and pain galore, no sounds of 'what the hell is going on down there?' reach my ears so I assume my parents are still asleep. Incorrectly.

When I open my door my parents are sitting on my bed side by side, glaring at me. Oh, damn. Damn. Damn. Damn! I open my mouth and do an impersonation of a fish.

"Are you going to tell your mother and I what you were doing outside, and why you had the pressing need to leave through the window?" my father asks, though we both know that he isn't asking. He is demanding, there's an unsaid 'or else' at the end of his sentence.