The only one.

o n e

Arriving at the boarding school's sixth form department, I struggled my way off of the bus with my heavy bags, It shocked me that I quite literally had my entire future right here in my hands, and I saw so many other teenagers aged 16-17, all with a different pathway in mind. It's crazy how we were all in the exact same book, but were living in different stories. My story was completely different. They all seemed relatively similar. Clear skin, clear mind, straight hair, probably even straight grade 9s. I mean, that's why we were here. Well, all of us, but who's us? Not me.

I'm Alessia. It's a miracle when people call me that. I got picked on all through primary and secondary school. Name calling, rumour spreading, people treating me like I'm just a giant joke. I am autistic, I have ginger hair, freckles, and I don't have a beautiful slim figure like the rest of them, and I feel like I don't belong. I really struggled in school as I learn things very slowly, and found it very overwhelming, and I knew I was definitely going to struggle in this boarding school which was formulated to lay the foundations for the next generation of rocket scientists and brain surgeons, mathematicians, doctors, chemists, people who are gonna have no problem flying from sixth form to university, and strutting away from the place with a doctorate degree. I was never meant to be any of those things. I wasn't even meant to be there. On the bus, parked outside of St. Edwards boarding school and sixth form.

I know I belong at the blossom-side college. That's where my grades are headed. I'm only here because my auntie is the head of sixth form, and said I had to attend, as it would be an embarrassment for her if her own niece wouldn't attend her sixth form. My auntie, Janet, alongside the rest of my family, have egos almost as high as the Mount Everest. I'd just about scraped a grade four in my English exam, I knew I'd have to retake maths, because I failed. The entry requirements for this sixth form are at least 7 GCSEs at grade 6 and above, and an 8 in maths and English, but my auntie still insisted that I'd enrol for this sixth form because she owned it.

Following a group of girls down a pathway, and into the school, butterflies in my stomach turned into boulders as we formed a queue down a corridor, the warmth of the building came over me like a breath of strict, and professional air.