Desperation. I've become too familiar with this feeling. Facing a situation of total distress, I pace my breath to stop the numbness running through my body.

"Abby? Are you Ok?" My 10-year old sister looks at me with concern.

I swallow to be able to speak but with no luck, my voice comes out dry, "Yeah, why don't you find some glue or anything?"

Stressfully running my fingers through my hair, I look up to the ceiling.

I'm so dead.

Once Mrs. White comes back from her business trip, she'll want answers and another excuse to hate me.

I squat down to examine the damaged vase. It's broken into several pieces. Looking at it won't fix it, so I start gathering the larger pieces. More worried about Mrs.White's reaction, I wince in pain at a newly formed cut made with a glass shard.

My eyes start to water. I didn't know if it's cause of the pain or the fear. As my sister comes into the room, I try to wipe the useless tears.

"Abby, are you crying?" My sister's eyes start to water.

With anxiety, I try to shake off the shallow feeling inside of me, "No, never."

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I'm offered a red apple, my stomach growls. I reach out for it. But before I can, I hear someone call out my name, and they knock the apple out of my hand.

"Abby, wake up already" I'm woken up with a great shake. It's Monday, the most dreadful day of the week, which always reminds me that my life is far from a fairy tale.

"Let me just decompose, I don't wanna" I pull the sheets over my head and make a cocoon with it.

"Get up Abby, you're in high school, act like a high-schooler." My sister pulls my arm dragging me out of bed.

"Come on, you have to do my hair, and I want to wear the pink ribbon you gave me." She hands me the ribbon and I take it. How many things have changed? I get up and start doing my sister's hair. Once I get dressed, we head toward the kitchen.

"What do you want to eat today?" I ask her while I put on my apron to start cooking.

"How about some eggs?"

"Sure, thing boss" I salute her.

I'm not an amazing cook, but I can cook simple things, which mostly consists of eggs. I guess my sister knows that very well; she only ever asks me for eggs. Jessica is very kind-hearted and always tries to be optimistic. And for a 10-year-old, she's tall, beautiful, and six more inches and she will be tall as me. She has the same gray eyes like mine, with the same burnt umber hair and slight beach waves. Her hair reaches her waist, while mine is just to my shoulders.

"How's the food, Jess?" I start to wash the dishes and turn around to see her reaction.

She forces a smile,"good".

I eye her suspiciously and take a bite from the eggs. I find myself running toward the sink and spitting it out. Salty. I rinse my mouth on the sink and immediately turn around to my sister,"Jess, what- why- just don't eat that." I take what is leftover from the plate and throw it out. A rough start like always, I sigh," Let's go."

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"Always depressed like a wet mongoose" A girl leans beside my locker.

"And how would you know how a wet mongoose looks like if you have yet to see one." I close my locker and we start walking to class.

"Don't need to. I have you to show me," Lura teases me. Lura is 5'9 girl with a nice honey tan, and light brown hair, with wonderful hazel eyes. She is the type of person to talk and greet everyone in the hallway, this girl can have a deep conversation with a pole or the president. She's about the only girl who takes the time to have a proper conversation with me.

"Still friends with the cockalorum, Lu" a boy passing the hallway comments. Lura has been with me since 5th grade, never tries to avoid me, she's loyal, but she also doesn't like to bicker over useless things.

"You know it," she calls out and puts her arm around me.

"How did I get stuck with you" I smile while rolling my eyes.

"you know you love me" She hugs me tight.

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Apples and pears. If life was just as simple as apples and pears. Someone bumps me from behind, " Move it." The hallway boy passes me. In the end, I ended up with both fruits on my plate. Never could choose between them.

"Hey, Abby" I turn at the sound of my name and see Lura waving me to come over. As I approach the table, someone whispers why did you invite her over.

"Are you ready for the basketball tryouts? I can't wait! Now that we're Seniors we'll be in the court most of the time" Lura nudged me and starts babbling.

In the high school hierarchy, there are certain rules which are followed by. If you're good with sports: you're an athlete and attractive, girls are especially popular. If you're anything below that, you are either considered unpopular or hopelessly lost in the high school hierarchy of Benjamin Clinton high school. A Lunch tray drops beside me, and a boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes sits next to me.

"How are you, Abby? Are you ready for basketball season?" He takes a sip of his cranberry juice. Before I could answer Jackie, injects, "Are you ready for tryouts? You seem like you have been practicing. Do you think you'll be the first string again?"

"What are you, the news? What's with all the interview questions?" Lura points out.

"Nah it's fine. I'm hoping to see that I improved, and it's my last year, so I want to do my best." He then turns to me again, "Abby, do you have time after school? I need help with something."

I see Jackie listening very attentively to our conversation. Jackie has brown hair and brown eyes; she always acts like I don't exist.

"Um...I can make time. what do you need?" I ask.

"You'll see, I'll wait for you at the entrance" he gets up and leaves.

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"So, you and Blake?" Lura nudges me.

"It's not what you're thinking, he just pities me," I assume.

"Keep talking like that and he will pity you, you need to live a little, don't you think he might like you more than just a classmate?" she suggests.

"Why would I think that? In my world, I don't have time for that" I walk to class.

After lunch, my fourth-period class is English, and I surprisingly like this class. I never knew I would enjoy poetry. I take out my homework and notebook, review it the last time.

"Talking about me," Blake takes a seat next to me.

"What?" I try to keep a poker face.

"I'm joking, don't get so tensed up." Blake Miller. He's about 5'11, has a few freckles around his nose area.

"Alright, class we'll start our poetry project," the teacher walks in and sets her things on her desk. "The point of this project is to learn to express feelings that others can relate to. We humans almost always experience similar emotions. So, through writing, we will put our emotions on paper, and hope to strengthen others, and not let them think they are alone."

The world seems to always revolve around expressing our emotions, yet when we do, we are shut off. I don't understand what we gain from expressing what we feel. In the end, we will only continue to feel the same. Life could be much easier if we could throw emotion away.

"To get started, let us get into pairs and start writing out ideas with each other. You don't need to finish today just have ideas" The English teacher instructs.

Without asking, Blake moves his desk closer to mine.

"What do you think of writing?" He looks at me.

"Not sure, emotion is a tricky thing. Not really a fan of."

I think about death for a while but then I think about when my sister was born. I write a few sentences in my notebook. I see from the corner of my eye Blake starts writing too. After I finish writing my thoughts, I read it. I sigh a bit, I look over at what he is writing and ask, "What did you write about?"

Blake tries to see what is on my paper. I try to hide my notebook.

"I'll let you read mine if you let me read yours" He proposes. I agree and we exchange notebooks. I read his a few times.

I look at him, "Is this about ......affection?"

He chuckles a bit," Don't say it like that. You make it sound-." He blushes. I didn't know he was that type of person to express his affection.

He then reads mine. He looks up with a very serious face.

"Do you really see...Do you really think that way?" A little embarrassed I nod.

He hesitates, "Is it because of what happened-." The bell rings. I pack up my things and leave to avoid any further questioning.

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Practice is about to start, and here I am half asleep with the fear of Mrs. White's arrival.

"Come on Abby, the semester has barely started and you look like you are dying standing up" Lura teases. She walks into the girl's locker room and I join her.

"Do you have an extra tie?" Lura asks while picking up her hair. I hand her a hair tie.

"When do they announce the team? Is it February?" I ask as I continue to change into my sportswear.

A cold voice injects," It's actually in two weeks, January 20, a Monday."

"Interesting," I mumble.

Lura turns to the cold voice, "Late as always huh, Kyra?"

The cold voice turns around and gives a plastic smile. Kyra has strawberry blonde hair, and green eyes, and a height of 5'8.

"Oh, look who finally came, don't get cold feet once you're out in the court, you hear Abby?" Jackie enters the room, teasing.

Kyra and Jackie giggle loudly. I ignore them, but Lura turns around and throws Jackie a dirty pair of shorts, "without her we wouldn't have a point guard."

"We'll see about that in the court," Kyra grabs the shorts and throws them back. As they turn to leave, they yell out, "that's if she even makes it to half court."

Author's Note :

Thanks, guys for reading the first chapter.

Comment your favorite sport.

My favorite sport is Soccer.  I've played soccer in a all-boys team back in elementary school. Truth be told it was kind of scary.