The Checklist (1)

        My name is Ash. I'm a 16 year old girl.
         I have extreme depression.
         Life isn't easy, thats why I decided to take mine.

         I'm in foster care, my parents died when I was seven, so I lived with my grandparents until they died last year. My foster parents we're high class, big house, nice cars, expensive clothes. But they beat me. A lot. They always had an excuse; I came home late, I'm getting bad grades, I eat to much.... And I'm too scared to tell anyone because they've threatened to kill me.
         I go to a prepatory school that I absolutely hate. All the kids look the same. Girls with bleach blonde or brunette hair, perfect complexion and toothpick bodies. Guys with short brunette hair and tan, toned bodies. then there's me, sandy blonde hair with black streaks, pale skin and an average body, always dressed in the darkest colors. Everyone either ignored me or picked on me every chance they got. Emo, goth girl, witch, and others.
         So I decided I'm done with life, but I'm not going out quietly. I have a list of things I want to do before my life is over. And now I don't have to worry about the consequences. First on my list: break as many of the school rules as possible. I'm starting simple, but working my way up.
         I got up late and put on my favorite outfit; black, ripped skinny jeans, a scarlet red, loose, off the shoulder shirt, and my black converse. Grabbing my cell phone and iPod I quickly ran downstairs, trying to avoid Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.
         "Where do you think you're going looking like that?" Mr. Taylor said, looking up from his coffee. My eyes widened as he stood up. I knew what was coming and I slowly backed toward the front door.
         "Please-" I started, whimpering, but was cut off.
         "Please what? Please let you go unpunished? Please let you leave my house looking like a Slut?" He walked closer with every word, his tone growing in anger.
         By now I was only feet from the front door. I took one quick look behind me before I bolted through the door and down the road toward the school.

         I was late and when I walked into my first period science class everyone went silent. The door was in the front of the room so all eyes were on my as I found my seat in the back of the room. Everyone was still staring at me, including the teacher.
         "Are you just going to look at me the whole time? Or were you going to teach us something?" I said, smirking at my teacher. He was easy to piss off and this comment was enough to push him over the edge.
         "Ms. Burns, Deans office. Now." I stood, still smiling, and paraded my way out the door. Up until that point the class had stayed silent, but as soon as I was out the door the whispering started. Smiling to myself I detoured away from the office, instead going into the small maze.
         I wandered around listening to my iPod and admiring the newly blossomed roses. Suddenly I realized I wasn't alone. Sitting against one of the stone benches, listening to his iPod, was a boy about my age. His black hair almost reached his shoulders and his bangs partly covered his right eye, which were a deep cobalt blue. He had a simple lip ring on his left bottom lip and pale skin, like me. The style of clothing was similar to mine; dark. Gray, almost black, loose fitting skinny jeans, black shirt , checkered jacket and black DC's. to someone who was into our style, he would be considered hot.
         He didn't seem to notice me as I approached him and sat, leaning against the opposite side of the bench. Being more friendly than me he moved to sit across from me, pulling his knees loosely to his chest. I pulled the earbuds from my ears and put my iPod in my pocket. "Hey," His voice was calm, soft, but strong.
         "Hi," I said, feeling oddly shy.
A kind smile touched his lips as he introduced himself, "I'm Xavier Evens,"
         "Ash Burns," He reacted as I had expected; surprised.
         "You're serious?" Xavier asked, doubtful.
         "Completely," My parents had been very creative. Mom had been an actress most of her life, writing stories on the side. Dad had been a filmmaker and painter. It was only right if they named their only child something unique, Ash, being our last name was Burns. And I loved the name, yes it had gotten me made of fun, but it fit me perfectly.
         "It's pretty, er, I mean, cool." He quickly corrected himself.
I blushed for the first time in months. "Thanks."
         The bell, signaling the end of first period, rang loud, echoing off the tall brick walls of the school. Xavier stood up and held his hand to help me up. I thanked him and dusted myself off.
         "What's your next class?" Xavier asked as we walked into the busy hall. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at us. Some of them looked at our clothing then down at their uniforms, envy crossing their expressions. Others, mostly girls, sneered at us and turned away. I wanted to explode with laughter, the I remembered Xavier's question.
         "Uh, Geography with with Martins."
         "Cool, me too." He said putting his hands in his jacket pockets.
         "So you're new here," I stated, enjoying the new company.
         "Yeah," He smirked. "got kicked out of my last prep school. Figured my parents would finally put me in public school. With they would have." Shrugging he smiled at me and asked, "Why did your parents stick you in here?"
         I looked down, feeling tears well up in my eyes, all my new found happiness gone. "I don't have any. They died in a car crash when I was seven. My foster parents put me in here."
         "Oh. Oh, man, I'm really sorry." Xavier slowed to a stop in the empty hallway and turned toward me. His expression full of sincere sorrow as I looked up at him. My tears spilled over and I folded my arms tightly around me, looking away from him. Suddenly strong arms were around me, pulling me into his chest. I felt ridiculous standing there in his arms in the middle of the hall, bawling. I thought he must have felt the same, but he didn't let go. He held me, letting me cry, even after the second period start bell rang.