Ever had your life change in a split second, and then look back to that moment and wonder how that happened. This was the very thought that I had, as I ran for my life, with only what I was able to hastily pack, following a boy that I hardly knew.

Let me start at the beginning.

I am a sixteen year old average girl, living with my mum. I have no idea who on earth my father is. She tells, every time that I ask, whether it be while she is distracted and I hope to sneak the answer out, or when I ask directly, that he was the man of her dreams, perfect in every way. She explains in great detail the time that they met. It was in the middle of summer, over at the beach. She had gone alone, having recently broken up with her boyfriend, whose name she does not tell me. He was good looking and smart, she explains, but they did not get along well together, being too different in opinion and personality. The weather that day was beautiful; not one cloud in the sky, the water a crystal blue, and the sand felt like velvet under her feet, as she walked up the beach, shoes in hand. After some time, as the sun started to set over the horizon, turning the water an orange shade, she saw a person in the distance, coming the other way. As he came closer, she was able to see more clearly. She tells me nothing of his appearance, and I always see tears forming in her eyes at this part of the tale. I never push her too hard. When he is next to her, he stops, and their eyes meet.

The tale never changes, and mum never gets tired of telling it, just as I never tire from hearing it. He left when I was born, apparently to start a living in the seas. She would often tell me that the water was the only place that he truly belonged, the only place he ever felt comfortable. I do not hate my father for leaving, although I do wish that I could have seen him at least once, to know.

Now I have a new dad, and while he is a lot of fun, he will never replace my true father. His name is Pete, becoming a member of the family when I was five. With him came my step brother, Lucas, and step sister, Katie. Both are younger than me, him fifteen, and her thirteen. They are very much like their father, loving to laugh and have fun, but never responsible.

My mother is one of the best women I have ever met. Even with all of the stress that she had while being a single mum, she never yelled at me once. She is responsible, independent, and caring all at once. I am often told that I am exactly like her. Once, when I accidentally broke her most precious glass vase, she just held me in her arms, and told me that all the objects in the world will never be more important than her Jewel. Jewel is my nickname, one that mum has used ever since I was born, although she would never tell me why.

"You will find out when the time is right, and when the world truly needs you, my Jewel."

I never pushed mum, even when I so desperately wanted to know what on earth she was talking about. She was no fragile, and I never want to give her a reason to break. A life without her would be heartless, and I would not know how to move forward without her guidance. Always the gem, beautiful to look at, but unable to travel on its own without a push. She always brightened up my day when I had an awful day at school, like the sun in the sky.

There is nothing special about me, no matter what mum thinks. I am quite pale, with sea blue eyes, and freckles dotting my cheeks and nose. My hair is a dark brown, with natural blond highlights spread through, due to the many days I spend at the beach. I am quite tall, more than average, and quite skinny, but not lankily so. At School, I only have two good friends, the rest see me as the "nice but quite girl" they share classes with. I am hugely into horses, having loved them since I was little. My sixth birthday present was riding lessons, following a month of begging since mum is allergic and did not want me near one of those "flea ridden kickers". I also love the water. Mum says that I take this passion from my father as he also adored the sea, and anything related. Every morning I would run straight into the waves, splashing and diving before I had to go home, have a shower and get ready for school. Whenever I felt depressed angry, it was my go to place to relax and cool down. It truly fells like it is where I belong.

School itself is also nothing truly amazing. Even though I go to a private school, where the facilities are better, and the teachers are more experienced, the people are just as terrible. All the girls do are gossip about the last couple who split up, and which guy has the hottest eyes, while the guys just make the sickest jokes and try and stuff as much food into their mouth at once that is humanly possible. It is safe to say that out-laughing a hyena is easier than surviving high school. Even with friends to support and protect you, navigating the halls without being hit or called on is still a huge challenge, especially when said halls contain Sandy Hilkins, the richest, snobbiest girl the school and entire world has ever seen. She constantly changed her appearance, trying to be "fresh", and puts others around her down just to feel more beautiful. One week she told me that blond highlights were "totally last year", and that my freckles looked "ghastly, like the chicken pox", telling me to stay away from her so that she doesn't catch the infection. That girl does not have one brain cell in her body.

But on to the life changing events.

That started like any others, I ran to the beach, relaxed, went back home, and walked to school. There, the normal classes occurred, and the students were just as horrible. Sandy had changed her hair again, to platinum blond this time, which I personally thought did not match her skin tone at all. Already I have seen two girls run crying into the bathroom, away from where she was standing. Typical day.

After lunch, we had a large maths test scheduled. I had studied moderately for it, considering the fact that it wasn't too important. Most of the questions I understood easily. I have always had a knack for anything academic, being naturally smart without even trying too hard. While problem solving one of the last few questions, the room suddenly went pitch black, and was filled with pure silence.