this isn't a fanfic, its a story I'm writing. Chapter 2

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this isn't a fanfic, its a story I'm writing. Chapter 2

hey killjoys! this is the story I'm writing, hope you like it!
~Radio Star~
************************************************************************************************** First period is English. Not one of my best subjects. I walked into the boring class room with papers posted on most of the walls and two big windows on the left side. I sat down at my desk in the front and put my plain dark blue back pack down next to me. I kicked back and waited for my English teacher, Mr. Malcolm to arrive and start class. Then I saw Jada and her boyfriend Seth walk in and I immediately tense up. Seth is the original jock, he plays football, has muscles, and is mean to smaller kids. He has short, light brown hair and pale greenish blue eyes that always look dull. Jada meets my eyes and I quickly look down. The next thing I know, there’s smooching noises and my desk scoots back a little. I look up to see Jada sitting on my desk, hugging Seth and making out with him. I look to my side, blushing. Was she seriously making out on my desk? Oh well, she’s done worse to me. I tried pretending I wasn’t there but my efforts were futile. “Oh hey Evie, sorry I didn’t see you there.” Jada said, turning her head around to look at me. “I hope you don’t mind me and Seth.” She said with a sneer on her face. “Umm…no I guess not…” was all I murmured. “That’s what I thought.” She said as she turned back to her boyfriend and continued making out. It was disgusting, I’m not even going to talk about them tonguing. Finally Mr. Malcolm walked in and Jada and Seth took their seats. Jada purposefully bumped me as she walked by. Mr. Malcolm was a man in his early forties with greying brown hair and glasses. He was nice but strict. “Okay class, today we’re going to talk about sentence structures.” He said, writing something up on the board. I looked over and saw some other girls whisper and point at me, then giggled. Probably something about my clothes even though all I was wearing was a tank top, a black jacket and jeans. I glanced at the clock, only two minutes into class. Today was going to be a long day…
At lunch, I’m always by myself. No one wanted to be friends with me because if Jada or any of her other friends found out they would be treated like me. I still don’t know why I’m singled out, I just am. I sat at my regular table, eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and juice bottle that I always have. This time I had an apple. You know your life is sad when you get excited about finally having something different in your lunch, and that was the highlight of your day. I sighed and continued eating. I’m usually by myself so its normal for me, I stopped caring a long time ago. But every once in a while, my heart gets a pang of loneliness. The trees around my table whispered softly, as if they were trying to comfort me. ‘Good luck with that’ I stupidly thought to the trees. As if they could hear me. At least it was sunny, and the birds were chirping. I’ll miss the bird’s chirping.
Finally, the bell that signaled school was over rang. I gathered my stuff and walked out of the biology classroom. As I walked down the field and too the street, I made sure Jada and her mindless followers didn’t spot me. I made it to the subway station and they still hadn’t found me. Finally, I was on the subway train and heading for home. I only ran into them once after first period, during fourth period P.E. Its hell in that class, they torture me so much. But it was over, and I had made it another day. I watched the lights flash by as streaks in the subway tunnel, and felt the rocking and bumping of the train as we zoomed far away.
The subway train came to a stop then I slipped my backpack on and stepped off the train. The Singer City subway station isn’t like others in most cities. The whole thing is one big tunnel and the trains go down holes that speed down into a complicated network of tunnels. And instead of putting in your money and getting a ticket you get a card that lets you into all the buildings in Singer City. It expires after a year then you need to renew it. On the card there’s a code, your picture, birthday, and name. You hold the card up to a scanner and then it lets you into buildings, in this case the subway station. But if you’re homeless, or too poor to get a card then you get a tattoo on your right arm that says your name, birthday, and the code. I don’t like the idea of people having to be permanently marked just to enter a building, but for now there’s nothing I can do about it. If visitors come to the city, you have to go into a special building where you give city authorities information and you get a visitors pass that expires after a week and then you have to renew it. If you try and get into the city without a card or pass an alarm goes off and Singer City authorities stun you and take you into custody. If it’s a wanted criminal trying to get in, they’re shot and killed on sight.
I got out of the station and into the bustling streets, and started down Harper St. that led toward my apartment building. As I walked, I noticed a man with greying hair and a black business suit walking swiftly towards me, concentrated hard on his phone and drinking a bottle of water. I didn’t think much of it and kept walking. Then I squealed as he crashed into me. His water bottle went flying and splashed all over my front. “I’m so sorry!” he quickly said and bent over to pick the bottle up. I ran for my life, the wind was cold against my drenched body. The reason I ran was because I could already feel the make up on my neck start to smear away.