I know, I know, I am the world's worst uploader. Don't kill me. This is very important. I have deleted every chapter but the first, and this is me trying to rewrite it. Because I read it and didn't really like the plot and how I wrote it. So please read and enjoy! Reviews are more than welcome.

When I wake up, I'm afriad

Somebody else might take my place

-The Neighbourhood (Afraid)

I shot out of bed and looked all around me. No one was in the dorm, but this did not come as a surprise to me. The clock read 8:40, meaning I was ten minutes late for breakfast. It was clear to me that my roommates had chosen to not wake me up, and I was not at all surprised by this. They hadn't been receptive towards me since I returned, so why would they bother to start now? It shouldn't of hurt, but it still did.

More than I would care to admit.

I sighed as I crawled out of bed. My body ached from what I had done over the summer, and it hurt like hell to move. I sucked it up though and stood in front of the mirror. My body was thinner than it should be, but the rest of me looked fine. I looked older than I did before I left. My eyes were no longer the twinkling hazel they had been before, full of innocence and happiness. No, these eyes were sad. These eyes had seen and done things that I wasn't even aware of. I quickly put on my uniform and applied a little mascara and lip-balm. My lips were still cracked from my summer.

My feet faltered before I entered the dining hall. All eyes would be on me, whether they were welcome or not. For a split second, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not it was worth it to eat breakfast. However, a rumble of my stomach put a halt to that thought. I would have to endure whatever was about to happen.

I quickly pushed open the mahogany doors and strolled inside. I tried my hardest to ignore the stares from all directions and made my way towards the food. I grabbed a muffin and an apple before turning towards the senior table where my peers sat enjoying their meals. The end chair was gone. I had no seat to sit in. I didn't have to be told twice, and the glares I received from almost all of them only reinforced that.

Abby, seeing my dilemma tried her hardest to help.

"Cam, you can sit up here with me. I won't bite, I swear." She looked at me carefully, as if I was about to erupt. And I could. At that moment, I could let my anger and sadness and humiliation and I could explode. And she knew it.

"Abigail, students are not allowed to sit up here. You know that." My mother's voice cut through the sea of voices and pierced me. I wish I could curl up into a ball and disappear. I gave Abby a fake smile and slight shake of the head before turning on my heel and exiting the room.

I entered Cove-Ops just before the bell rang, getting lost on my way there. Once again, there were no seats that I could occupy, so I awkwardly stood in the back of the room. Zach was sitting next to Bex, laughing at some joke she had murmured. No one even noticed my presence.

"How late was I?" Mr. Solomon's voice boomed loud enough to make me want to jump, but I remained still as stone. No one answered, and the silence got to me.

"4 minutes, 58 seconds Sir." Everyone's head swiveled back to gape at me in surprise. He cleared his throat.

"Correct Ms. Morgan. Please, feel free to join me up here. You can sit in the chair next to my desk." I quietly made my way up to the front of the room. I felt utterly exposed. "Today we are learning about guns. They will either save you or kill you, so pay close attention. We are just going to be assembling them today, so it will not be very dangerous. Yet." He finished by handing us each parts of a gun. The music filled my mind again, and I swayed slightly to it. I felt almost rela-

"Cameron Anne Morgan, drop the weapon!" I was snapped out of my reverie when I was slammed into the hard cement floor, both of my arms pulled behind my back rendering them useless. Panic filled me as I began to struggle.

It felt like it happened before. My senses became jumbled. I could no longer remember where I was and who I was with. Hundreds of empty faces flashed before me and I felt cold air bite me. Rain was dripping onto me, soaking me completely. I could feel a heavy and muscular man sitting on me, leaning near my ear, whispering, "Beauty like you should be worried 'bout what's gonna happen while we have you. Catherine doesn't do a good job of keeping the men away." I thrashed around more at this, and was jolted back into reality when the pressure was off of me.

I stood and looked around in terror as I took in the sight of Mr. Solomon with a black eye and a broken nose. My classmates looked at me in disbelief and horror. I scrambled out of the room, but not before meeting Zach's hard gaze. His dark eyes were clouded over in anger, sadness, and realization. No one stopped me as I ran away from the memory I just had.

That night, I got almost no sleep. I was afraid to close my eyes. What I had possibly remembered while being constrained by Mr. Solomon could not be erased from my mind. When I did get sleep, I would wake quickly with a jolt. At 12:15 I woke up screaming into my pillow and shaking with a cold sweat and knew that I would not be getting anymore sleep that night. I felt disgusting and desperately wanted to take a shower. However, there was no way I could take one without waking up my other roommates. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I settled for taking one in the East Wing, where I knew that there weren't many people to wake up.

The hallway was eerily quiet. I felt completely alone, even though I was anything but. The scalding shower released the tension from by rigid soldiers and cleared up my foggy mind. I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off with the fluffiest towel I could find. I quickly put on the cotton long sleeve tee shirt and cotton short-shorts that I had brought with me. I toweled my hair and wrung it out until it was almost dry again.

Suddenly I heard voices in the hallway. They seemed to be two people shamelessly shouting. I crept up to the door of the room they were coming from and pressed my ear against it.

"Something's wrong with your daughter, Rachel." Joe Solomon shouted. "Do you even care? She needs help."

"Joe, she made it very clear she doesn't think she needs help when she ran away like a coward. By herself. She made that decision to go without help. She sure as hell does not need any now." My mother's voice was cold and detached.

"Are you kidding me? She had a panic attack today in Cove-Ops. She is you daughter, and she needs her mother now." His voice softened at the end. What she said next shattered me.

"She is no daughter of mine." I didn't stay to hear any more.

Thank you for reading all of this. I promise I will write better and start updating a lot more frequently. Review!