Guardian Ravenfolk

Chapter One-October

Chapter One

October

Dear Diary,

Summer had flown by in a blur. While everyone was busy going to the beach, or falling in love, I was mourning. I was mourning the death of my best-friend, my parents and the father I had never met. Two months of my life. Wasted; and now, it is October. Cold, sweater-weather October, and summer seems so far away. I can hardly remember it. School started again; my senior year, all alone. Sure, Matt's been there for me...well, we've been there for each other but-it's not the same.

Nobody cares that I'm the girl whose best-friend and parents died. They're going to expect me to just move on with my life, and get good grades, and be in involved with extra-curricular activities. I'm going to try; I really will. For Ayora's sake; speaking of Ayora, she also helped to get me through this. Without her, I would've crumbled to pieces. You see, I've told her about Brustarios; and Justin, and she's pretty good with this thing called magic; she helps Angela-yeah, I said Angela FREAKING WHARTON-to control her powers.

The girl is a certified witch.

Together, they've been putting up spells to keep the bad guys away. Only, if they were strong enough to keep them out of my head, I think...and out of my heart.

Yours truly

Sincerely Yours

I suck at diary keeping

Peyton Clake

"What are you doing?"

I snapped my book shut at the sound of the unwelcome voice. Seriously, did the girl not understand the concept of personal space?

"Have you ever heard of this thing called privacy?" I replied drily, and Angela blinked innocently, blowing up a huge, pink bubble of gum from her pink lips.

"Please; you should be happy you're allowed to speak to the great Angela Wharton." She smirked, pulling out a chair beside me. I winced at the smell of her French-perfume.

"I'm like, way above you on the social scale." She informed me matter-of-factly. I was about to respond when a couple of girls from her old clique strode past us. Angela froze up beside me as they snickered down at her, not even muttering a hello. I could feel her embarrassment radiating off her cheeks.

"Well, at least I used to be." She muttered darkly. I was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to comfort her, when I realized that she was still the queen of mean I was talking to. Ever since that day Angela and Claire had gone off about the poem in English class...let's just say high-school kids have no sympathy and don't like to associate with 'psychos'.

"Oh...look whose coming. The jock with the nice butt..." she whispered; and what do you know, my sympathy just flew out the window. Rolling my eyes at her snide comments, I sent Matt a slight wave as he approached us. He looked kind of wary, carrying the smell of axe perfume. It was like, recently, he stood on eggshells around me.

"Hey." He greeted, pulling out a chair from behind us. I turned around in my seat to face him, taking in his raised eyebrows and totally unnatural smile.

"Hi." I muttered softly. I really hated pity. Whether or not I deserved it, I wished he'd just act...normal around me. Of course, nothing could be normal. Not after what happened last year. I tried a more welcoming smile, remembering that he was grieving too. I mean, Matt knew my parents...and Emily-Rose-a lump rose in my throat-was his girlfriend.