The Ghost Girl, Living In My Room.

Prologue.

                                                                          --PROLOGUE--

Life is like a hot bath. It feels good while you’re in it, but the longer you stay in, the more wrinkled you get.

                                                                          Rose Ferland

II woke up around seven. I had a cold shower, it's always cold because my father would rather spend his small wages on alcohol rather than use it for something more useful. My mother left us when I was five, promising that she'd return for me. But I haven't seen her since; she's probably with some other guy, having the time of her life-not remembering she has a sixteen year old daughter to return to. I put on something I wore all the time, my red plaid shirt, my job at the café didn't really pay well but I stretched it as much as I could to pay the rent. My Dad and I live in a small two bedroom apartment, the landlord occasionally sends threats from the other side of the door that he'd throw us out but when I pay him-the threats die down.

I slid my small feet into a pair of red sneakers-make shift converses-and tied my ribbon around the front of my hair. I smiled at the reflection of the light brown haired girl, she couldn't be me, and those blue eyes I've never seen such a bright colour look so dull.

I grabbed my school bag and unlocked my bedroom door and peeped down the hallway, my father's loud snores could be heard from a mile away. I stepped out into the hallway and closed my bedroom door, making sure to lock it before I put my coat on. I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge; the only thing in there was a half drunken beer bottle. I sighed, forgive me for thinking there was anything else in there.

I left the flat in a hurry, closing the door lightly behind me. Not wanting to wake up my father. The wind blew rain drops in my face; I tied my ribbon a little tighter on my head. The red ribbon was part of me, it used to be part of my mother's favorite dress but my father tore that up while he was drunk and the only thing I could keep-that was still intact- was the ribbon.

I didn't have enough change to pay for the bus fare to catch the bus, so I walked to school seem as it was only a couple of blocks away. I lived in New York, the not so popular part, in my area you'd find all the alcoholics-hence my father-single mothers and the occasional pervert.

I managed to make it to school on time, I didn't have any friends, but that doesn't mean that I was the bully's target, I just didn't talk to much people. I bumped head first into something hard, I fell on the floor and landed on my butt, thank God we were inside or my jeans would've been soaked in the rain. 'Sorry!' The boy apologized, picking up my bag and giving to me.

'It's okay, I should've watched where I was going' I smiled, dusting off my bottom.

'I'm Dylan-I'm new here' Dylan stuck out his hand for me to shake it. I shook his hand, looking up at his face to see his appearance. He had black low cropped hair, russet colored skin and dark brown eyes; he was slightly taller than me.

'I'm Rose, Welcome to Oakland High' I shook his hand. 'I'm not exactly popular here, so you've kind of chosen the wrong person to talk to'

Dylan laughed. 'I don't mind, it's easier when I talk to a non-popular girl, if you were a popular girl I'd have to worry about you trying to steal my virtue' 

I laughed. 'Lucky you then' I showed Dylan to the office where he's supposed to get his timetable and locker number. He had homeroom with me so I showed him the way. Most of the lessons we had together. At lunch we found an empty table by the window and sat together.