So much blood. It was all over the floors, the walls the ceiling, like a wild animal had ripped them apart. I was walking quietly, trying so hard not to make a sounds as I walked through their blood, stepped over their bodies. I knew that their souls were judging me, probably still attached to their bodies, as I looked away from their cold eyes. He was close, I could hear his breath, feel his presence in the house... I stopped there, not sure if I wanted to continue or not. My therapist looked at me expectantly, as if this was easy for me, as if this was the simplest thing that I could do all day.

“Please, do go on, Clareese,” his disinterest was apparent, and without another word I stalked out of the room, giving him a dirty look on my way out. Letting out a heavy sigh, I crossed his name off a long list of names of therapists that were “trauma friendly.” I hopped into my old beat-up Jeep Wrangler, admiring the chipped silver paint before I pulled out of the parking lot, turning on to the always busy street.

Home was a crappy studio apartment that I could barely afford with my minimum wage job. I looked at the resumes sitting on the counter. Name: Clareese SinClair. Age: 16. etc... All to jobs I couldn’t get. Next to that was my English homework, which was on top of my Physics homework, which was on top of my Calculus homework, which was on... Well, you get the point, I had a ton of homework, on my way to graduating a year early and going to college ahead of schedule. I sat, did my homework, and ate dinner in a matter of two hours. By the time I finally got to sit down on my sofa bed, it was 11 o’clock, and I was exhausted. Suffering from chronic insomnia, my mind was racing, planning tomorrow’s activities, worrying about what happens in the night, checking that all my homework was done, preventing me from sleeping.  It was 3 o’clock before I fell asleep.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep. Beep. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I jolted awake, covered in sweat. Glaring at the small read numbers that read 4:30, I jabbed the off button, getting groggily out of bed to stumble almost drunkenly to the bathroom. I stripped off my clothing, leaving me shivering in the brutally cold winter air as I turned on the shower. I let the warm water relax my tensed muscles, easing the nightmares from my mind.

It took me thirty minutes to straighten my black and blue hair, something that I had done a few months ago in a desperate attempt to change something, anything, my preppy appearance. Now, I was labeled a “scene” girl, a name that I proudly accepted. I was, in my mother’s words, average. My features were normal, my waist not too thin, my arms not too thick, my only prominent feature, my deadly blue eyes, and those wouldn’t get me a boyfriend. I mean, sure, I have boy friends, as a matter of fact I only had one girlfriend, but it’s so not the same. After I had teased my hair into the exact style I wanted it in, I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a bagel and sprinted into the parking lot.

The high school I went to was huge, even for a city school. With my graduating class of almost 3,000 people, the school just wouldn’t stop growing. Pros: You have an excuse not to know anyone’s name. Cons: You have to share your locker with the messiest football player you know. That’s how I started my day, pushing through a crowd of jocks to get to my locker, standing directly in front of which was the football player in question. “Good morning, Blaine,” I yelled over the noise, causing the whole group to quiet down. “Good morning boys. If you would be so kind as to move your conversation away from my locker... Thank you, thank you.” Only after they had congregated on the other end of the hallway, I opened my locker. As usual there was everything crammed into one half locker, and none of it was mine. With a sigh, I closed the locker, just taking the backpack to my first hour P.E. class.

“Morning Clare,” Jace yelled across the gym, sprinting towards me.

“Morning, Jace. How are you?”

“Good. We’re playing dodgeball today.” I groaned, dragging my backpack to the girl’s locker room. I changed quickly, getting into the gym with five minutes before the bell.

“Zach!” I squealed, jumping up and down like an idiot. He grinned, making his way over to me. We were the same height, and conveniently enough, our hair was the exact same length. He grew his hair to be “majestic”, plus he said that girls dig guys with “the mane.” “How was the Escape the Fate concert?” I asked.

“Frickin amazing. Jealous?”

“You have no idea! God, I wish I could have gone... Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because last night I got tickets to Panic! at the Disco. Love me forever,” he laughed when I threw my arms around him. Just as I was about to reply the shrill scream of the bell stopped all the fun.

“GATHER AROUND, WEAKLINGS!” yelled our gym teacher. None of us could remember his name, so we all just called him Sergeant Pain. He was an ex drill sergeant, straight out the marines, and he drove us insane. “TODAY WE ARE GOING TO PLAY DODGEBALL!” While he was yelling, spit flew off his lips, hitting the unlucky kids who stood in the front. Suddenly we heard the giant squeak of the gym door hinges and everyone flinched. Standing in the doorway was a thin boy with purple hair. “WHO ARE YOU?”

“My name is Corey.” Without superhuman hearing, I couldn’t have heard the small whisper that left his mouth.

“WHAT WAS THAT, SON?”

“He said his name is Corey. He’s a new student, sir. I believe he’s trying to join the class, sir,” I said, hoping to save the new kid from total embarrassment.

“JOIN THE CIRCLE THEN!!” The veins in his neck and head began to bulge, letting us all know that he was about to blow.

    I laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Sergeant, I believe we were going to play a game of dodgeball. If we were all running, you couldn’t see the wimps getting hit with balls. Think about all the fun that is.” He took a deep breathe before he nodded and yelled at us to get on either side of the line. I motioned the new kid over to our side, leaning against the far wall. “Hello, Corey. My name is Clareese. You can call me Clare. This is Zach and Jace. That’s Sergeant Pain, he’s kinda crazy-” Zach put a hand over my mouth that was moving way too fast and saying too many things at one time.

    “Sorry about her. She gets kinda insane sometimes. The name’s Zach, nice to meet you, man.” He quickly pulled away from my face with a yelp when I licked his hand with a sandpapery tongue. He stood wiping his hand on his shorts before he winked at me, grinning.

    Before I could continue, a ball flew straight into my face with a thud. “Owww...” I whined, looking in the direction the ball came from. Grinning from the other side of the line was Kyle, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Zach, take care of that,” I mumbled as I walked off to the side of the gym. Before I could turn to look at the court again, I heard a resounding thwack throughout the gym. When I turned, Kyle was on the ground, hacking as he held his gut. It wasn’t too long before I was back in and Kyle was in the nurses.

    “How was that?” Zach asked, turning to throw a lopsided grin at Corey.

    “Perfect. What a douche,” Corey muttered in a quiet voice. I smiled sweetly at him, already liking this kid.

    The rest of class went by smoothly, and the final bell saved us from twenty laps on the track. I changed quickly, but the shot to the face cost me the time of teasing my hair back into place. When I walked out of the locker room I was the only one left, until I heard the most beautiful voice drifting from the boy’s locker room. I followed it, unaware of the steps I was taking as I drifted into the locker room. It was filled with steam, the person singing was in the shower. I simply sat and listened as he continued singing, not yet curious as to who the mystery voice belonged to. “Could you hand me my shampoo?” the voice asked, obviously thinking I was a guy. “My locker is the top right corner. The combo is 37-77-17.” I opened the locker, grabbed the shampoo and handed it through the curtain. He gasped as he saw my hands.  Pulling the curtain slightly back, I could see his face, bright red with both embarrassment and the heat.

    “I’m sorry. Your voice... I’ve never heard anything like it. I’ll just...” I ducked out of the locker room, my cheeks a bright red.

    “Hey. Come back. It’s okay.” I turned to see him with dripping hair, towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist. “Do you have a hair dryer?”