*Author's Note: Hello, it's been an entire four months since the realse of Broken Glass, and I'm pround to say it's finally finished. so I've decided that I'm going to reidit the entire novel so that future readers can enjoy as much as the ones who stuck by my side, through out my struggle with grammr and spelling. I really hope you enjoy the new version! BTW the new song is Missing- Evanescence!*


*Broken Glass- Chapter One*

I looked around at all the faces. None of them were familiar but that's just how it always is. There wasn’t really any room to make friends...what difference would it make anyway? They’d eventually just dub me a freak and that would be that. More people to make my live miserable.
Not to mention the fact that no one would want to be my friend away. Why? I don’t think I’d ever truly understand. I wasn’t much different then they were. I was human, I breathed, I eat and slept. So why was I the one person out of place?
For a short moment I wondered if they realized how separated they really were from each other. They were more broken apart then together. It was like each little group was oblivious to the others. They only spoke to people they could relate to. And what about me? I couldn’t relate to any of them. I was alone, and only because I couldn’t find a way to apart of them. It felt like I was the one strand of hair out of place, the one red spot among all of the white. So there I sat in the farthest corner of the lunch room, just watching as others lived there life to the fullest.
Sometimes I would wish I could be apart of them, but somewhere deep down, I knew I never would be able to be. I was too different.
If I ever got away from this place, if I ever spread my wings, I would be sure to never make anyone feel alone. Never would I make them suffer like I did each everyday.

I looked down at the wooden table tracing the grain lines with my index finger. There was a tray of hot food in front of me but I had no intention to eat it.
School food had never appealed to me, It was just a greasy slice of pizza and some milk. Sometimes I'd grab an apple and actually eat it because the lunch lady would smile, and that was a welcome change to the awful glares I usually received.

My name is Elizabeth Johns and I'm a 10th grader at Moden Adams high school. It doesn't really matter how I see myself in the mirror, but if you were to look you might see straight brunette hair that drapes my shoulders and deep blue eyes. You’d see a tall fragile frame that stood just a little over 5'6. You might even see the bruises running down my arms. but I don’t think you’d see me. At least not like I saw me.
I felt the light sting of a bruise under my shirt, instinctually without thinking I touched it. The pain inflamed. I wanted so badly for it to disappear along with the scars on my wrist, I just want the pain to go away.
I wanted to disappear. What would be the point in staying in a place where no one cares whether you’re about to burst into tears, or whether when you got home your adoptive father was going to beat you just because he felt like it. It wasn’t a place that welcomed me and it wasn’t a place I welcomed.
Late last night, I thought about my mother. The real one that might of cared. not the one that was out drinking at the bar. The one that looked like me. The foster agents had told me she had died giving life to me. A life I didn’t deserve. I also tell myself that it’s my fault that she’s gone and that I’m now being punished for ending her life. I didn’t hate her or wish she was the one suffering instead. I wanted her to hold me like a mother was suppose to.
Not like the mother I’d been given, the one that would rather hold a bottle than the child she had promised to love.
The day was nearly finished, I only had to bare two more classes. I was glad the I wouldn’t have to listen to countless lectures by underpaid teachers who didn’t care if I was there or not. but I wasn’t happy about the fact that I’d have to go home afterwards.
I wasn't sure where I wanted to kill time or what excuse I'd give my mother for not being home on time, I only knew that I didn’t want to go home. The was the last place I ever wanted to go again.
I looked down at the cheap title that made up the cafeteria's floor. There were stains left from spilled lunches and cracks from careless kids. I began to remember what it was like when I was younger.
I remember one time in particular the most, I tried to tell them, the foster people, about her drinking problem. She was there and augured that I mixed gingreal up with vodka. Of course since I was only ten at the time, they had believed her. I would have tried again a long time ago, except now she isn’t alone. And now with the help of her new boyfriend, who has never tried to hide his fists, there really isn‘t any hope for change.
I know one day though, when I'm far away from him, he shall have his karma.

"Hello? You know by now a normal person would of answered me,”
I looked up to see a hand waving impatiently in front of my face.

“Huh?”
I asked a little puzzled. This was certainly unexpected. no one had tried to speak to me since grade school, why would some try now?

"Like I was saying, are you doing anything this Saturday?”
I looked at him like he’d just spoke Latin. Why did he want to know what I was doing? it wasn’t like he could do anything about it, he couldn’t change it. Instead of answering I looked him over, trying decide whether he was a junior or a senior, he was defiantly older than me.

He was tall and lean, not skinny but not built like a jock. He stood at least six feet, and had the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen. It was like looking into water. His hair was...Unique...It was jet black with green tips. I felt a strange attraction to him. Like I needed to be near him.
He wore Baggy pants with chains hanging from them and a plain black tee shirt that had a band‘s logo on it. One I knew all too well. Rise Against. I smiled to myself, at least he had good taste in music. I as about to pick up my tray and walk away when he began to speak again.

“Because I was thinking we could, I don’t know hang out?”

I knitted my brows and bit my lip.
"You’re serious?”
I asked.

This was certainly puzzling me, was he really asking me...

"Emm I don't have anything planed..."

"Good I think...I’d also like to talk to after school, I have some...Friends who are dying to meet you,”
I was about ask why when he sat down across from me.

"Well okay as long as you doesn’t...kill me,"
I answered.

He started to laugh.

"I promise not to kill you....today. No worries...I’m Eric by the way. Isn’t your name Elizabeth?"

I nodded but added:
“yeah, but I really prefer Raven.”
He nodded.

"Alright, Raven since we're not being formal I'm Spike."
I frowned.

"Hmm I like Eric better. Spike is my neighbor‘s dog‘s name."

"Fine with me. Why don’t you like being called Elizabeth?”
I shook my head, I didn’t want to talk about it. I just didn’t want Eric to call m something that Adam did. Adam...My mother’s boyfriend the only one who’d ever truly hurt me physically and emotionally. To me, he was the devil, no one I’d ever feel anything for other than raw hatred.

Eric laid his arms out and onto the table.
“so raven, what have you been up to lately?”

He smiled and I swear I saw fangs.