DISCLAIMER: as previously stated, Mrs. Stephanie Meyer owns all except Amy.
Chapter 1
Self-proclaimed Outcasts
Amy's POV
My first day at Forks High. yippee. I'm joining part-way through the school year. I think my parents didn't send me to this dreary landlocked suburb till now because I was healing. I don't think it was really a coincidence that 1 week after I got off the major pain medication they shipped me off to here. Don't you think that half way through senior year is a little late for a new beginning? Maybe they thought I needed a chance to go somewhere new, where no one knew. Maybe they were right. Maybe when the medicated fog lifted, the mutterings and stares would further damage my crushed heart. Whatever the reason, I am here attempting to make the best of it. the best I can make of life. yay highschool.
1st period English I thought… ehh not as bad as it could be, novels are easy. People and words are just so… readable. Then shuddering t myself I thought… You shouldn't think you're so great at everything, you're a person, you can be blind, ignore things you should have seen… I snapped out of it. The past was the past. I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom.
Bella's POV
At first I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me. Then I thought that it had to be some trick of the light. It wasn't. A girl with blue streaks in her blonde hair, wearing lime green high- top converse shoes, a baggy electric blue sweatshirt, and black sweats, walked into my 1st period English class. I swear that everyone blinked a few times when they saw all those neon colors together. I don't think any of us have ever seen so much neon in one outfit. It was a momentary distraction. After one minute of staring I returned to my moping. Everyone else continued to stare.
Amy's POV
Lunch. joy. Where the hell am I going to sit? I have already established that there is no band. No goths. No artists. Not even any general outcasts! They were just randomly divided into little groups of people with nothing in common. All the people there were boring. I could tell by the gawking faces in the hallway and classes that there was no originality here. No neon. No nothing. Hopefully there will be an empty table.
No empty table, the tiny little groups and sub-groups where hogging them all. The closest I could find to a general outcasts table was a table with just one girl there. Something in the depressed expression on her face told me that she too was a self-proclaimed outcast. A suffering body with a crushed heart. I could tell that she was a nobody in her mind, a nothing; Just another pointless life form. She was the closest thing to someone like me I could find. I sat down at the opposite corner of the table, as far away from her as possible. I shun all human contact.
Author's Note:
So…. you likey? Good? Bad? Horrible? Wonderful? Any Suggestions? Please comment! I'm sorry it's short… I can only write so much at a time!
p.s.
Some of the grammatical errors were made on purpose. Like if I start a new sentence with a lowercase I am most-likely trying to express the insignificance of it all. Sentence. Fragments. Like. These. Are. Signifying. Short. Choppy. Thoughts. And. Sentences. Sentences and thoughts that flow on and on and on and on without any punctuation at all like this one are continuous thoughts and sentences.