Falling Star

My name is Olivia Alice Skye. I have spent my whole life in the hell known as New York City. After my mother's death I got into a lot of trouble. Now after 10 years, I'm getting sent off the Falling Star Reformatory School. As the wrought iron gates opened, a plump old lady in a security uniform ushered me inside. She took my bags and searched them for "undesirable objects" like cell phones and drugs. After they successfully went through all of my personal items, they took me to my dorm. The walls were a pale grey and the floors were a matching cement. My classes started the next day so I had this time to check out the campus. It was pretty big all together. A huge garden and playground sat off on the far lot, surrounded by fields of dead hay. 
I tossed my backpack on my bed and went down to the courtyard. Outside my door, a girl leaned against the frame. She had long black hair with hot pink bangs that hung darkly in her face. A small tattoo of a green tear was tattooed under her eye.
"You Olive?" she asked staring down at her combat boots. 
"It's Olivia, an 'olive is a discusting and slimy ball of gross," I grinned slyly and a small smile danced across her lips.
"I'm Nola, yes like the Lion King character," she held out her leather glove covered hand to me and I bumped her fist,"call me your welcome committee." 
She showed me around campus and let me know who was cool and who wasn't. 
"Hey Nolly," an incredibly attractive guy with jet black hair and neon blue eyes wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She scrunched her nose like he smelled bad and pushes him away.
"Hands off lover boy, Olivia this is Travis, Travis, this is the door," she pushed him toward the door and turned to me. He walked over to me and wrapped him arm around my shoulder. 
"Ello Olivia, welcome to hell we like to call 'Falling Hard', where you fall on your ass in a minute," his breathe was heavy with mint and he smelled like Axe. Nola grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. 
"He seems nice," I chuckled, she grinned.
"Oh yeah, so does the nice guy in the white van that offers you candy, and both scenarios play put the same." 
With that we parted ways and I we t back to my room to take a nap. 
***Flashback***
I was 13. It was the first time I went back to the house since my parents death. The windows were shattered and the house was in shambles. I had told the cops not to mess with a single thing. I stepped through the piles of broken glass and destroyed chairs. I maneuvered through the wreckage and flopped down onto the glass coated couch. A smashed picture frame lay on the ground surrounded my dead flowers and shards of glass. I plucked it out of the mess and stared at the picture inside. It was my mother. She was smiling faintly with a bright white daisy tangled in her dark brown hair. Growing up, I loved this picture. She always looked so beautiful. Now it seemed dark and miserable. A faded memory in a sea of darkness. I saw tears fall onto the frame and I wiped it away. I took the picture from the frame, lay it on the couch and started to cry. Waves of pain washed over me. Anger at my mother for leaving me alone, sadness for being forced to grow up alone. I threw the frame across the room and wiped the tears away. After just standing there for about 15 minutes, I lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly. I tossed the filter part out the window and walked out the door. 
Out of pure anger I lit my Zippo lighter and tossed it in the window. I stood watching as it burned, then as the whole house was engulfed in flames, I walked away. Embers fell from the sky and one large one landed at my feet. I picked it up and looked at it closer. It was the picture of my mother. Singed at the edges. I lit my spare lighter, and burned away her memory forever.