My name is Sarah. It's not my real name. I don't know what my real name is. The story behind Sarah is a very long story, of which I will tell you. I will tell you everything about me. But it is a long story, so I hope you are comfortable.

I live in a place called The Hole. This is a place where homeless, parentless, teenaged children live. Technically, I'm an orphan. But no one wants to adopt a teenager, so we all live in The Hole.

It's also a breeding ground for the worst kinds of people. People who do drugs and deal them, who rape women, abuse others and commit disgusting, inhuman acts against nature, among other things. I do none of these things. I spend most of my time in my shabby excuse of a room, locked away from everything. People have tried to sell me drugs, and also tried to rape me, but I have broken most of their bones. Now, no one bothers me.

Today is my first day of school. The old lady enrolled me a week ago, but I had to wait until the new term to start before I could officially go. Everyone here was shocked when they realized I seriously was going to school. No one in The Hole goes to school.

The old lady offered to walk me to school. I think in the week of my being in her manor she has taken a liking to me. She has begun to look me in the eye more often, despite my look being described as the Look of Satan. I declined her offer, thanked her, and left on my own for school.

Another thing you need to know about me is that I hate sunny days. It reminds me of home. And today was a bright, sunny day.

Yes, I said home. I did have a home at one point. I am thirteen years old, after all. Of course I had a home. I will tell you of that, as well. But like all stories, I must start at the beginning.

It took me half an hour to walk to the school. I had no books, but I did have a notepad and a pencil. I'm not sure if I would need it. There was no one around when I reached the front doors, but when I opened them, I noticed everyone.

There was a hush. I barged in the school like I owned it. My scowl and dark eyes made everyone back up. There was a slight breeze that swept around my thin, damaged hair. I stood in the doorway for only a moment, taking in the scenery, glaring at the people around me, before I moved away. It was so quiet when I walked in; it was as if someone had swallowed all the noise. That someone must have been me.

Was it because I was new, or because of my presence? I had an aura about me that frightened others, which I wasn't sorry about. The more fear I strike in others, the less they bother me.

I was, however, lost. And the only way to get to where I needed to go was to ask for directions. I walked up to someone and I barely got within hearing range when he backed up and almost ran.

Fine. No help there. Three other times resulted in almost the same thing. Someone called me a bad name, but I took no heed of it. I did, however, see a small group of children by some lockers chatting. I was hoping at least one of them could help me.

I walked up to the group. As soon as I approached, the four of them looked at me in unison, but none of them walked away from me. They each looked at me a different way: the one who looked in charge was analyzing me; the rather beautiful girl tried to mirror my glare, unsuccessfully; the other boy was afraid of me; the other girl looked at me like I was her friend. It was that look that took me aback. I almost forgot the reason I came over to them.

"What do you want?" demanded the pretty blonde.

"I want to know where the science room is."

"Which one?"

"Obviously the one where the classes are being held."

"Are you stupid or something? There's more than one science class." She added, "Moron."

I glared at her. "At least I don't look like white trash."

"Whoops!" said the goofy-looking boy. "That was a bad thing to say to her!"

The blonde grabbed my collar. "What did you say, you -!"

"Let go of me." It was a simple statement. I didn't mean it to be like a threat. Really. But I forgot that when I say things, they always come out like I'm going to follow it with an attack. Either way, she let go of me without a hesitation. Maybe it was my look. My already dark eyes, I could see in the reflection of the lockers, got to the point where they matched my pupils. I almost frightened myself. But I didn't relax my face. Three of them were already backing up slightly.

But one didn't. She said, "I'll show you to your classroom, if you want. What room is it in?"

"Cassie, are you nuts?" asked the boy. "You do realize she's Death, right?"

I ignored him. "Room 271."

"Oh, that's my science class, too. I'll walk you." The school bell then rang. While people were madly dashing to their classrooms, she began to veer away from the other three, who were all looking at her like she was insane. I just followed, for lack of anything better to do. I still didn't know where it was, and she was showing me, not telling me.

"So you're new, huh?" she asked, as we walked down halls, up stairs, passed lockers and around frightened little children. I said nothing. How annoying: because there was silence, she automatically assumed I wanted conversation. "I'm Cassie, by the way. What's your name?"

Again, I said nothing. She finally got the hint and stopped talking to me. When we reached the room, I took note of the directions and walked inside. The teacher was already at the front.

"Cassie, you're late."

"I was showing the new student where the class was."

"Oh, you're joking!" someone shouted. The class turned to see a rather large boy jump up. "She's not seriously in this class, is she?"

"Sit down, Billy," said the teacher. She waved me in. "Come in and sit down somewhere."

Cassie took her chair near the front of the class. She waved me over to the only available chair left, which was next to her. I sighed and sat down. I could hear muttering behind me: things like what is she doing here, she's a crazy witch, where did she come from, among various insulting phrases. All of this I paid no heed.

The teacher began, "Open your books to the sixth chapter, please." The sound of rustling paper was heard, but I just folded my hands on my desk. Cassie was set up with her own notepad and pencil, waiting for further instruction.

The teacher glared at me. "Where's your textbook?"

"I don't need one."

"This is a very important chapter about very difficult topics. You will need a textbook."

"I guarantee I will not."

I think some people in the class were impressed. Others were probably just waiting to see if the teacher would explode on me. Some laughed. The teacher said simply, "Come to the board and draw a diagram of Dichloromethane." She held the chalk out to me.

Most of the class asked, in hushed tones, "What's that?" but I just got up, walked to the front, took the chalk, moved to the front of the board, thought for a second, and began the diagram. It wasn't difficult. It wasn't as if I hadn't done this before. I drew a few circles with a few letters, mostly Cs, and finished in a matter of seconds.

I believe the teacher was the most stunned. I don't think she expected me to know that. But she got back to the front, looking a bit embarrassed, took the chalk from me and relieved me back to my desk. She no longer pestered me about not having a textbook.

For the bulk of the class, she just discussed what was in the chapter. A bunch of stuff I already knew, mixed with meaningless descriptions, stupid little facts, and other things that bored me. Finally, near the end of the class, the teacher said, "Pair up and go to one of the counters over there. We're going to do an experiment."

I stood up and looked around. People were backing away from me as much as they could. Good: hopefully the teacher would declare I could be on my own. But Cassie came to my side and asked, "Wanna be partners?"

I looked at her, sighed, but said nothing. She assumed that meant yes. She took me to a counter and we waiting for the teacher to give us further instruction. She began handing out papers with chemical ingredients on it. "You will turn the one chemical into the other chemical by following those instructions exactly get that out of your hair Billy!"

I looked at the large boy in the class and saw him take a stir stick out of his hair. Everyone around him was laughing. I didn't. If he wanted to create a chemical reaction on his head, let him.

"I'll get the ingredients, if you want," offered Cassie. I said nothing, so she went to the cupboards and shifted around other kids to get what was needed for the experiment. I waited for her. Other partners were frantically taking notes, jotting things down, mixing things, but not me. I waited for Cassie.

She put all the things she brought on the table: chemicals, beakers, stir sticks, etc. I took a beaker, held it up at eye level and began to pour one chemical in it. "Um, maybe we should use a measuring system?" Cassie suggested. I ignored her, and proceeded to put the other chemical in. Then I added some water, and filtered it over the filtration system Cassie brought. She just watched. After a while, I took the filtered chemical and boiled it, then filtered it again.

Cassie looked worried at me. "That's not what it says in the instructions," she pointed out.

Ignoring her, I took the second filtered chemical and put it in the test tube provided. I handed the finished product to Cassie. It would have been more impressive, but the chemicals were watered-down.

She looked at me oddly. I couldn't describe it, though. I've never seen that look before. Was she impressed? Scared? Worried? Nevertheless, she took my test tube and put the tape with our names across it, then put it in the canister on the teacher's desk. Ours was the first one there for a long time…