Build God, Then We'll Talk

The halls were a strange, dark color. It looked like it should have been green, but turned out far darker than the color the painter wanted. Perhaps it described what life would be like here, living with a bunch of people with far more complicated problems than I have. I have only one problem, and that problem is the fact that I can't fully complete a suicide attempt. I'm not a junkie anymore, I quit cutting myself, and I haven't stolen anything in over three months. Let's face it, I don't belong here.

I turned into a small room, the initials on the door reading 'Anna Reed' in bold, white letters against a black plate. I stared at the room, the walls completely white with a gray trim. The mattress was twin sized and far less comfortable than the bed that I had at home. I sat down on it and looked up at the ceiling, which was textured horribly. Some places had a bunch of texture, others were plain and flat. This place was disgusting. I had done drug deals in classier places than this.

I heard a knock on the door. My head snapped to the tiny frame to see my mother standing there. She adverted her eyes away, like it was too much to even look at me, then threw my bags on the ground. "We tried so hard with you, Anna," she said, finally looking at me. We stared at each other for a long moment, before she finally shook her head and turned to start walking away.

"Evil bitch," I hissed as I turned on my chest to lay on the bed, my feet in the air. The room was so quiet, so peaceful. The only sounds were from the nurses in the hallways and even that wasn't very noisy. It was much better than being in California, where there was always noise. It was even better than being at my old home, where there was always fighting.

When it's quiet, I have time to think, to process everything. It makes me feel at ease and it takes stress away. I can relax, putting everyone else on hold. There was only thing wrong with it being quiet, though. It made me remember the past.

- - - - - - - - - -

3 Months Earlier:

"I'll pick you up right here at three, okay?" mom said as she pulled up to my new school. I looked around at all the kids walking into the school, most in pairs, but some with a larger group. They all had smiles across their faces as they laughed with one another, like they were just the happiest to be here. Oh, how I envied them.

"Alright," I breathed, putting on a fake smile for mom. Yeah, back then I always wanted to make her happy. It wasn't easy then; we were both dealing with the divorce - even though I was taking it harder than she was - and we both were dealing with the stress of a new town, a new house, and new faces. At least one of us should be happy.

I opened the car door and stepped out onto the flat pavement. The warm September air wrapped itself around my body and I respired, getting ready to face whatever was about to come at me. I closed the door and mom drove off, already making me feel less secure being in such a new, unnatural place.

As I walked down the halls with my new books that day, I could feel everyone staring at me. When I walked past, they'd stop in their conversations and watch me, probably judging me. I sank down into the jacket of my uniform and quickened my pace past all the threatening sets of eyes.

Back in my old town, if you were a new kid, you were showered with attention. Here in my new town, the teachers didn't recognize you anymore than the kids who had been here since their very first year. I guess there were so many faces that the teachers didn't have room for another one, especially one so plain and dull as me. I wouldn't leave any remembrance in their brain than some of the other kids here.

It happened during lunch. Of course, being the new kid didn't offer me any places to sit at lunch. This school was much like every other school with their cliques, only this one seemed more prompt on it. People from other cliques wouldn't even walk within three feet of another, like it would curse them, or something.

I wandered aimlessly across the cafeteria, waiting for inviting eyes. I probably should have been staring down at the ground, because before I knew it, I was falling face first into the blue tiled floor. My tray scattered everywhere as I fell, laughter starting all around me as they watched me struggle to get up and I could feel my face turning ninety shades of red.

"Shut the fuck up, assholes." I looked up to see a girl standing above me, long, brown hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. "You okay, kid?" she asked as the laughter started to calm down. I nodded and she outstretched her hand to me. I took it gratefully and was lifted up with hardly any effort from the brunette.

"Thanks," I whispered.

"Don't mention it." She had a thick Jersey accent. I smiled and knelt down to start picking my food up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?"

"C - Cleaning this up," I stuttered.

She flipped her hand. "Don't worry about it, the lunch ladies'll get her for ya. I'm Megan, by the way." She swung her arm around mine and started leading me in the direction of the far corner of the cafeteria. "Where you from?"

I bit my lip and looked around at all the eyes watching me curiously. "A small town in Massachusetts."

"Wow, 'Chusettes. That's a long way away." I nodded with a faint smile. "You runnin' from somethin', Chusettes?"

To lie, or not to lie. "My parents just got divorced."

"Ah. So you livin' with Pops or what?"

"Mom."

"Right. Same happened with my 'rents, only I'm with the Old Man now."

I nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Ay, Darko, Kirby, Pots, Lee, this is my new friend, Chusettes."

"Ay," they all said in unison. I was surprised to find that every single one of them were males. In my old school, usually the cliques consisted of only one type of sex. Sure, we all hung out with the opposite sex, but not at lunch or anything. Lunch was our own time.

"What's your real name?" came his quiet voice. He had blond hair that hung in his face and looked like it had been highlighted with a darker brown and a lighter blond. His eyes were so blue that it put the ocean to shame and made his pale skin even paler. "I'm Pots."

"Annabella," I answered. "But everyone calls me Anna."

"'Sept us, we're gonna calls you Chusettes." I smiled and nodded.

"I'm Lee," said the one sitting next to Pots. His hair was a faded brown color and it hung around his shoulders. His face looked soft and flawless. His large, dark eyes were sunken down into his head and rimmed with dark, black eyeliner. His frame was thin, more feminine than any of the others.

"Kirby," the one next to Lee pointed to himself with a purple fingernail, his voice perky and his face holding a bright, crooked smile. He had dark black hair that was spiked and died blue in the back. His eyes were big, but not quite as large as Lee's, but matched Lee's when it came to the dark color and the dark eyeliner rimming them.

"Darko," said the last. His voice was so soft that I had to strain to hear him. His hair was dark, with random chunks of blond in it that hung over his eyes. He blushed as he spoke, obviously one of the shyest there, yet his face still held a warm, welcoming smile.

These five were so different from me that it made them seem inviting. If I would have known what kind of people they really were, I would have lied with the next question that Kelly asked me. "So, Chusettes. You in for a little fun after school with us today?"

- - - - - - - - - -

"Anna," the voice interrupted me from my thought process. "It's time for dinner, sweety." I turned to look at the woman standing in the frame of my door. She was short and plump, like my aunt Josephine. Her hair was tangled in a bun that sat on the top of her head, and her make-up was way too blue and way too thick.

I smiled back at her and nodded.