"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP" My alarm begins to blare as I slightly slug out of bed and reach over to turn it off. I spend ten minutes in bed, staring blankly and at my white, lifeless ceiling. The ceiling that I've grown to know so well ever since we moved into this house six years ago. I sit up straight in my bed and look around my room. It was on the smaller side, it had a window to the left and it didn't have much personality. When we moved into the house, it was painted grey. My mother promised we would get it re-painted, but it was just another dream of mine flushed down the toilet. There were a few band posters on the walls, but there was nothing really extraordinary about my room. Although I spent most of my time here, getting away from the chaos erupting all around the house and secluding myself from my family, who wasn't much of a family at all, my room matched my mood most of the time; sad and dull.

I slowly crawled out of bed. I was not ready to face the challenges of what a daily life had in store for me. I didn't want to face my friends just to act like I was perfectly fine. I didn't even really have friends, just a few people who felt sorry for me. I didn't want to face my teachers and listen to how much I was slacking and how I could do 'so much better'. I didn't want to sit in class and feel completely illiterate and incompetent because I didn't understand a single thing. I didn't want people to look at me and pick me apart, piece by piece. I didn't want to be judged. But no matter how much I didn't want to go to school, I had too for many reasons. School was an awful, disgusting place that withheld terrible people and wicked vibes, but it was a hell of a lot better than home. I wouldn't have to endure it that much longer though because today was my last day of Ida Baker High School in this lone part of Florida. Mom and I were moving across the country to San Diego, California, where I am going to be attending a new high school... A new high school with new people who I will grow to despise. A new town for complete disorder and confusion to take place. A new town in which I will get my hopes up for many things only to be let down once again. A new town to feel worthless, contemptible, despicable and a thousand other lonely emotions. Mom says it's our chance for change and happiness, but I have little hope for any of that. I trudged over to the mirror where I stared straight at myself, someone I was supposed to know so well, but had no idea who "myself" really was. I was a stranger.

I decided to apply my usual makeup. A base, winged-top eyeliner, and mascara. It wasn't anything too big, but it made my green eyes pop and it made me feel just a tad less revolting about myself. My mess of long, black-brown highlighted hair cascaded down my back as I decided to just put some mouse in it to keep from frizzing. I would just leave it natural most days. Since my hair was so long, it took a while to straighten and I didn't really have much energy. Plus, my hair had a natural wave to it, so it never looked too bad. I took out the first thing I could find in my closet, white skinny jeans and a black muscle shirt that had "dead" in the center of it. I stepped into my studded black combat boots and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

Walking back from the bathroom, I passed the only picture I had in my room and stopped. It laid on my vanity, placed in a gold frame. It was of my brother, TJ and I. I was only three and he was seven, my mother took the photo. We were in the kitchen, he was cooking and I was just standing there, looking at him with such dependency and adoration. I'm sure he was giving me direction on what to do, he always had a plan. This was before everything got bad, before my whole world turned upside down, before my father lost his job and became a raging alcoholic. I was too young to even remember what life was like before it got bad, but TJ always told me stories about when Mom and Dad were happy. It's hard to imagine my father to have a loving bone in his body, but the tales that TJ told gave me hope.

"I miss you so much, Tyler" I spoke to the picture and used his full name as a tear rolled down my face. I planted a gentle kiss on his photographed face and set the frame down. I hardly ever cried, I was known as bulletproof. I was the strong one. But when it came to remembering my brother and the night he was killed, I couldn't control my emotions.
I dried my face and checked the mirror to make sure my makeup didn't run from the lone tear I shed and grabbed my bag. I creeped downstairs, making sure not to wake up my father.

I peeked inside the den to check if my mom was there and sure enough she was standing there, staring out the window. "I'm leaving," I whispered to her.
She turned around so I could get a full view. She was wearing a long, red robe. She looked more distraught and anxious than ever. Then again, who wouldn't be when you're planning to run away with your 17 year-old daughter, across the country, to escape a monster of a drunk man who beats you and destroys you emotionally every single day? I looked into her green eyes that were much like mine and gave her a small smile to assure her I would be fine. She grabbed my hand, and that's when I saw the black and blue bruise that my Dad must have left on her arm. There were probably plenty more where that came from. There was fear in her eyes and I could tell how much she dreaded staying home alone with him all day.

"When you come home, I want you to act completely normal. Go to your room and lock the door. Your closet is going to be emptied and all of your stuff will be cleared out. Don't worry about it. I want you to stay in your room no matter how loud things are getting, okay? Do you hear me? STAY IN YOUR ROOM," She said it like I would want to come out and join the party. "Your father will be asleep by ten o' clock tonight, at ten thirty I want you to sneak out and walk to the third house down the street. I'll be waiting in the car for you and we'll go from there. Understood?"

"Crystal clear," I spoke with confidence though I had none at all.

"Okay, have a good day at school." I gave her a strange look. "At least try too, Stella." She whispered sternly. We hugged quietly and I was off to catch the bus.

I took out my iPod and blasted my music as the fresh Florida air kissed my cheeks. I began to think about the small conversation I just had with my mother. It was sick that we had to sneak around because if my dad found us talking 'we would both endure a long night of torture', which were his exact words.TJ always questioned my mother for staying, and I don't blame him, I would leave if I was her. She wanted to stay for us, which I never really understood. But, she's finally doing something about it, after all these years of hell. It took countless beatings, millions of hurtful words and her first born son to die before she put her foot down and decided it was enough. She finally realized that he wasn't going to change. Tonight's the night.

I got on the bus and passed some familiar faces before sitting down in the fourth seat by myself. I had a long bus ride so I leaned my head on the window and closed my eyes so I could listen to the music with more clarity. I began tapping on my binder to the beat of the guitar in Bring Me The Horizon's 'It Never Ends'. Listening to music and playing it was my escape from my every day life. TJ taught me how to play guitar and before my dad set mine afire, I used to play it all the time. I haven't touched a guitar in over a year but I still remember everything I was taught. TJ was a musician, a good one at that. He used to play a special song on his ukelele every night to calm me down and relieve my stress. TJ used to say I had a gift that he could only wish to possess; singing. I never sang in front of people though, I didn't have the guts. I liked to remain unnoticed.

We arrived at the school within a half hour of being on the bus. It didn't seem that long at all, time always seemed to pass faster while I was in the 'music-listening zone.' I got off the bus, only bothering to take one headphone out of my ear. Music would be the only thing keeping me sane here and the teachers were either completely clueless, or didn't care the slightest bit. I took a deep breath before walking into school. Nothing good has come out of the last three years here. Sure, I have some acquaintances but no one special. No one I'm going to miss. I've had a few boyfriends with the same suspected intentions; sex sex and more sex. I don't fit in well here to say the least. I took a look around and absorbed everything for the last day I would have a chance too. I took in the people, how they all dressed the same, walked the same, said the same things. I took in the smell, a mix of new car and sharpie marker. I took in the appearance, the boring, normal white walls and typical blue-white flooring patterns. I watched the cliques; the jocks, drama geeks, nerds, cheerleaders, art club, groups of friends chatting and laughing. Everyone had a place, a stereo-type to narrow them down and to explain how they acted and what they were. I didn't have a place, I didn't fit in. I don't know who I am and I don't know where I belong , all I know is that I don't belong here.

Notes

Stella's outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/untitled/set?id=100905541


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