In a faraway land, mentioned only in legend, a king lived with his children. He had divided the land equally, giving his children parts of the land, letting them rule it together. Two children felt bitter and left the kingdoms. The other children and the king were saddened by their choice but allowed them to do so. Wars and contentions filled the land.
Grace hugged her books to her chest, her shoulders slouched. Her gaze was directed to the ground. Don't make eye contact with anyone, she thought. She had moved to the new high school a few weeks before. She had come with her father, his work had moved him. It's not like she really left any friends behind, except one. Riley, her one true friend. The one she could count on for anything. I mean yeah, they video chatted weekly and called each other almost every night. However, it still was not the same. She walked out of the school, the smell of fresh rain filled her nostrils. She saw her father's truck idling. He was waiting for her; she liked that.
As soon as she got home her father had to leave for another shift of work. She sighed, she was used to this, however. She'd had a rather lonely childhood. Not a bad childhood mind you, just a little more lonely than most. Her mother had died when she was twelve, so it had just been her and her father for five years. Her father had dated on and off for a few years, but nothing had ever gotten too serious. She liked it being just her and her father, it was peaceful.
After finishing her homework, she changed into a long T-shirt and leggings and went for a run to warm up her body, listening to music as she ran. This had always been a coping mechanism for her. She had had another hard day at school. However, she was still determined to make friends despite her discouragements. There had to be someone at this school who wanted to be her friend. She just hadn't found them yet. She hoped she would soon through. She ran harder, pushing herself beyond her limits. She ran into her room, beginning to run in place, then jog, then walked. After her run, she began to stretch then do pull-ups, push-ups, and situps. After each, she kept pushing herself farther than she had in previous times. After her workout, she started to make dinner. Her dad would be home around six, it was five-thirty right now so she had plenty of time. It took her until her father got home to finish dinner.
"Did you make any friends at school today, little half-pint?"
"No, not yet, but someone here wants to be my friend," Grace said, more to convince herself, then her father. "I hope," she muttered to the side.
Her father smiled, "You will, half-pint, you will."
Grace lay awake that night thinking, wishing that tomorrow someone wanted to be her friend. A sinister thought crept into her mind that no one would want to be friends with her. Grace locked the thought away, deep inside her. Someone did, she thought. She closed her eyes; dreaming of a place she had heard of in her childhood, the Forgotten Kingdom that was only heard about in legends.
Early in the morning, the land was peaceful. A soft mist settled gently over the lush earth, enveloping all the plants and trees. The fresh smell of rain still lingered in the air, and the animals hid from the cool air, sleeping in their dens or nests. Grace wandered, barefoot, through the forest, the mist swirling around her legs, chilling her bare skin. She looked around and saw two youths walking with her, speaking excitedly about something. Grace felt disoriented. Her head spun—where was she? Who were these people?
"What do you think Grace?" they asked her, as though she had been apart of the whole conversation—which she hadn't. She didn't know what they were asking her about.
Grace woke up, sighing. It felt so real. The companionship of friends, something she longed for. She quickly got ready, dressing into her black ripped jeans and a black tank top with a ripped army jacket. She went down the stairs, ready for breakfast, but not ready for yet another dreadful day at school.
Soon she was out the door, in the car, and seated, looking quietly out the window, imagining herself in a depressing movie, looking out with a sad face, all along with sad guitar music playing in the background. Eventually, her dad stopped the car in front of her school.
"Love ya!" he said cheerfully, but Grace didn't respond. She only deflected the happy emotion. "Hey," her father continued, "have a fantastic day. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure," was her only response. Her father, unbidden, kissed her on the cheek. Grace only smiled a little, then began on her way to the school's doors. She slouched as she approached the doors, then thanked the random kid who held it open. The kid had a habit of it for some reason, she didn't know why. She passed through the second pair of doors, braced herself, then entered into the chaos of the school.
Other teenagers like herself chatted, laughing along the hallway's walls, lined up and in groups. Most groups, however, stood right in the middle of the walkway, prohibiting her passage.
"Excuse me," she said, pardoning herself as she tried to make her way around them and toward her locker. Discouragement filled her, she kept her eyes on the ground. She grabbed her math book, it's weight giving itself to her arms. She walked to the math classroom and set her stuff down, making herself comfortable in the hard chair. She sat there, alone, waiting for the bell to ring. She pulled out her Rubik's Cube and began to play with it, mixing it up and solving it. Some time passed before the bell finally rang. The usual dread began to fill her as everyone else began to walk in, the teacher making his way to the front. She sighed, putting the cube away, pulling out her pencil and paper.
The lecture soon began, and later the assignment was assigned. She filled it out as fast as she could before the bell rang yet again, and when it did, she solemnly stood and left the class with her back-pack slung over her shoulder, her math book in the other arm.
She made her way down the hallway, avoiding all contact with people. She wished that people would notice her mood, but they never did. They probably were simply repelled by her fancy word and never asked her anything. She didn't think this, however, she only thought that they were just selfish of their friendships or were desperate for the friendships that they were barely hanging onto. She didn't care anymore. It had become her usual daily routine. Go to school, walk to class, no socializing, learning, and on and on. Meh. she silently thought.
The bell rang, and soon she was seated in her assigned seat. She pulled out her notes and began to listen to yet another lecture. As she learned, she found that she had a very interesting interest in the topic of Vikings. They were pretty epic, she thought. But then they all died. Just like everyone else.
By this time through the second semester, the thought of depression had overcome her. There was no way to avoid the depressing thoughts that she associated with anything and everything. She didn't care, and even the school's supposed ''Hope Squad '' didn't care. Did they even notice? Why should she care? No one wanted to be her friend, so what? She was used to be a lone wolf. Every time a childish hope rose that someone wanted to be her friend it was brutally shattered by bullies. Keep up that happy face. Let no one know anything is wrong. She thought. You're fine. You are a warrior so act like it. Warriors don't cry.
Time went on and on, and soon her hand was aching from all the note-taking. The teacher asked the class a question, but this time she didn't raise her hand—even though she knew the answer. She didn't want anymore embarrassment. She only welcomed it when she was very cold, as the embarrassment warmed her up. It was a simple scheme that she had discovered for herself. It worked, most of the time, though usually she didn't get the chance to be embarrassed when she needed it most. She kept her head down, but alas it was not enough.
The bell soon came to the rescue, and she, along with all the other bodies, made her way to the hallway. The same boys from the day before walked past her.
"Hey ugly," one said, pushing her down. She fell to the ground with a small shout.
"Oh," one of the boys said mockingly, eyebrows flying upwards. "Did the little new girl fall down?" he said, pityingly. "Well, I hope it hurts. Ha!"
The boys around her began to taunt her. She curled up into a ball. Trying to keep their voices out but to no avail. At least they didn't hurt her. The image of their dancing feet and laughing faces haunted her eyes.
It all went on for a bit, but soon to her relief the principal happened to be walking down the hallway and broke them all up, scolding them. He helped her up, kindly, asking if she was okay.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," she replied. He smiled lightly, then left her, walking towards another group of troublemakers. She sighed audibly, then walked to her next class. Her body began to ache in longing to be active. She was tired of sitting all day, every day.
Sitting down, she yet again pulled out her notebook. She soon realized what class it was and, laughing to herself, put her notebook back in her bag, replacing it with her art book. She smiled as she flipped through the pages, finding a blank one. This was her favorite class. Art. It allowed herself to let go of all, or most, of her depression when she couldn't go running. She loved the way her pencil would glide across the pages, all seemingly insignificant lines of graphite that connected into a masterpiece.
The lecture coincided with her drawing, the movements of her hand guided by the teacher's words, and soon she learned yet another skill in her art. Time flew as she drew, and her mind was lost to oblivion. Multiple times, however, she was called on by the teacher to pay attention, but whatever. She didn't care. She just wanted the day to be over. She had no friends. Without realizing it she drew the two youths from her dream last night. 'Who were they? Why did they seem so familiar?' As soon as the bell rang, she stood up and ran out of the school. Her phone chimed. It was her father.
I'm sorry, Grace. I had to put in my extra hours, and I needed to work late. Walk home, be safe
That's ok. I will. You be safe too, papa. 3.
She walked home, alone.