Alone.

Pitter Patter, Pitter Patter.. It was a crisp morning, soft rain awakened the greenery. Snow sprinkled the moorland like fallen angels. Colors of oranges and reds streaked the sky.

The few street lights that were still on flickered out as natural light took its place. The road stretched for miles upon miles, wildlife disturbed by thick smoke pummeling from the car engine.

The soft lull of it all took a part in her tiredness, and she leaned her head against the fogged glass of her window. She risked a quick glance at her father, whose face was stony and cold.

Amber curled her Sherpa blanket closer, the soft fleece rubbing against her goose-bumped skin and warming her. Soft radio talk brought to her ears, though most of it sounded like gibberish as she watched the farmland sweep past.

Her fire like hair draped over her back and shoulders, slightly over the side of her face closest to her father. This was so he couldn't see her crying quietly. Salt tears dripped along her cheeks, landing in her curled up hands.

She could feel strong heat bringing to her cheeks, partly embarrassment, partly the heater in which was blowing on her. A gravelly voice broke into her head. "Why do you..............................hot..."

Her mind was too blocked, too blurry to comprehend any words at the moment. She raised a shaking finger to swipe away her last tear. The Harps Family didn't cry. Amber looked past her blanket to the ice blue eyes of her dad. They looked angry.

He was probably angry because she hadn't answered whatever he said. A fresh sting of grief took over her. Mother hadn't gotten angry at her for no reason. And if she did, she always apologized sincerely, warm brown eyes sad. She had never liked to argue with Amber.

The girl turned back to the window, tucking her chin beneath a fold of her Sherpa. A yell sounded in the direction of her father, but she couldn't hear a thing. Father was never good to her. So- why would she rather stay with him then go to the boarding school?

Because I still love him. Because he was good to me when mother was alive. Whispered a part of her brain that had nearly disappeared. Her ear seemed to be tuning into her father, as his voice was getting louder and louder, less blurred. "I DIDN'T HAVE YOU FOR YOU TO DISRESPECT ME LIKE THIS-!"

Amber's lip quivered, and she quickly pinched a sleeved arm. No. She would not show weakness. She must be close to the boarding school. Her brown eyes flicked up to see a tall and ominous brown looking building, ruining and peace of the country.

The school was stationed smack dab in the middle of a flower meadow, brick walls thick and imposing. Her father's flame quickly diminished as he pulled his truck past the black iron gates and down the long gravel driveway.

The small rocks made them bounce up and down, and she knocked her forehead painfully on the glass of her window. Amber arose to sit up straight, rubbing the spot just right to her eye. Many of the windows in the school were just lighting up, the light more of a white than a warm yellow.

She opened the door, sliding with a soft crunch as she landed upon the gravel. Amber shuffled slowly to the back door, swinging it open. Her father was staring straight ahead. Of course he didn't care, they were now departing paths.

She grabbed her bags, wrestling them out and flinging herself backward. Flesh met rock, and she bit her tongue so as not to yell in pain. She lifted herself up, brushing the remains of grit off the palm of her hand.

The truck looming before her growled and spluttered, rolling away. Amber sniffed softly, picking up her bags once again and walking past the spraying fountain to the large doors.

Her father had really wanted to get rid of her, as he would never normally give anything for her- even more so in the case of money. Her shoes kicked the rocks, soft brown eyes tilting downward to the ground.

If only her mother had still been there. SHE would have never sent her to a boarding school. The same thoughts circled in her head, getting more inflamed each round. She hopped up the marble steps, coming to a rest at the great dark oak doors.

A golden knocker was split between the doors, and she grasped the metal, her first still rocking against the splintery wood even though she had used the knocker.

Amber quickly withdrew her hand as the door creaked open just slightly, a pointy nose sticking out. The voice that was about to speak was hissy and quiet, like a snake about to attack. "Go away. We don't want to buy anything."

The doors slammed shut, and she stared at where the nose had just been. Coming back to her senses, the girl knocked harder, raising her soft voice to a near yell. "I'm a student! My father dropped me off here."

A small opening appeared once more, now showing small, glaring eyes and that same pointy nose. "Hmph. Well, too bad. Drop off hours are at exactly three O'clock!" As he said this his voice was more snarky, ending in a soft hiss. He held up three long bony fingers before slamming the door once more.

She wiped an eye of tears. She wasn't about to wait hours and hours in the cold. Amber knocked harder, fist beginning to pulse with heat as pain surged through it. "I don't think the health board will be happy about keeping a student to get phenomena at this school."

Now the door was swung open, and she had to quickly duck as to not get slammed between the brick wall and the oak door. "Ahh, WELCOME IN!" His voice was tight and salty, backing away to let her in. "I am Mr. Sharpcut, you're principal."

"Greetings, Mr. Sharpnose- Sharpcut." Amber avoided his pinched eyes so she couldn't see the possible anger in them. A simple mistake on her part, a mistake that could be ignored.

She turned her gaze to the gorgeous red banners unfolded upon the ceiling, hanging just above the twisting stairways. A front desk sat in the middle of the entering room, a bored looking lady tapping her pencil on the counter.

It looked like the hotels from movies, red velvet carpet resting upon the wooden stairs. As she looked at a beautiful couch, her principal's voice brought her back. He was leaning to her, breath that stunk of vinegar bathing her face. She tried to lean back.

"Troublemakers get in trouble, Ms. Harp." The dominant act was soon ruined as he leaned back, and she could see the proud twinkle in his eye. He was proud that he had "proved dominance."

Mr. Sharpcut twirled on his heels, great coat billowing behind him like a cape. Now what was she supposed to do? Amber stepped to the front desk, tapping the counter softly as a friendly reminder she was there.

The obese lady made a noise with her mouth, turning in her office chair to the girl. "Welcome to Persecution Boarding School. My name is Ms. Hawk and I'll be helping you today. What do you want?' her voice was monotone, like the darkest black of a nothing abyss.

"I'm Amber Harp, and I was wondering what dorm I'm supposed to be in." Amber fidgeted with the strap of her art bag, desiring to collapse in whatever room she was in and draw her feelings until they had all transfered to the page.

Ms. Hawk rolled to a file cabinet, opening it and searching with her big fingers. Whilst she did so Amber began to observe more. She observed everything. It was one of her greatest skills. A few of the cliche posters were hung up messily, such as the 'Hang in There.' or the usual young adult movie posters.

A very new fancy PC was on the counter to the right of Amber, a mug full of cold coffee sitting beside it. "You're in Room 27, with.. River." Ms. Hawk handed her a paper map, as if she needed that in a school. Nodding her thanks, Amber wrestled all her bags to a comfortable position in her arms.

The trip up the stairs was painful and hard, but finally she stepped up the last step, and tugged the last tug. Her chest rose and fell quickly, mouth cracked open slightly to allow more air in. She could tell Ms. Hawk had just been watching her struggle, and right now all she wanted to do was get away from the boring front desk lady.

The rooms that passed in her peripheral vision were a blur. They hadn't the slightest importance at the moment. Only her room did.

Her eyes were only on the map, and she bumped into quite a few things. Such as a person.

Flustered, Amber finally came to a stopping point at her room. The numbers seemed to glow in her vision, and she blew past the tied sock on the door. Bags crashing to the floor, determination flashing in her bright brown eyes, and her supposed roommate River on a boy.

They just stared at each other for a little before the blonde scurried off the bed, coming to a march at her own feet. "I put the sock on a door for a reason, no brain!"

After her struggle, the only emotion left was anger. Amber grabbed the other girl's shoulders, shaking her. "THIS IS MY ROOM AND I INTEND TO STAY HERE-" Her own hands shook as she took them from River's shoulders.

River stumbled back, mouth opening and closing. Pure pride surged through Amber, taking over her brain. Her roommate glanced behind at her boyfriend, stuttering. "U-umm, i-it's t-t-time for you to go."

She grabbed her bags, trotting past the boy and the girl, and dropping everything at the side of her own bed. Her OWN bed.

Amber dropped on, hugging the fluffy white blankets. Her own sherpa was now on the bed as well. JUST as everything SHOULD be.

The door closed behind her with a soft click, and she could nearly feel the angry glare on her back. Amber turned over, sitting up with a pleasant smile. "We won't have a problem as long as you keep the boy out of the room while I'm here and clean your own sheets."

River nodded quickly, sitting on her own bed breathlessly.

She turned over, grabbing her wonderful drawing supplies and setting to work. She drew the anger demon that lurked within her, the sad hobbit that sometimes poked her, and the happy angel, halo and all.

She only stopped as she heard the floorboards creak. Amber lifted her head, tired eyes blinking. "Where are you going?"

River made a scoffing noise, hand on hip. She flourished her blonde hair, flapping it to rest behind her shoulder. "Classes, duh."

As she heard this she shot out of bed, putting on simple sweatpants and a light light orange sweatshirt. "I'm pretty sure father signed me up for an art class-" But right as she said this it seemed so wrong. Of course he wouldn't. Knowing him, he probably didn't even know she liked to do art.

Perhaps she could sign up early. Amber raced to the door, slamming it behind her in a rush. She nearly tripped down the winding stairs as she came to a stop in front of the front desk. "I need-" She paused to wheeze. "to sign up for art class-!"

Ms. Hawk turned slowly to her. "Geeze, calm down, kid. Art classes are already full."

She closed her mouth, fingers curling into her palms. This year would be torture. Great torture.

Writers Note:

This was such fun to make. My relationship with my own step father sometimes feels like this, but I know he loves me and is trying. Thank you so much for reading <3