Alivia
The Bookworm
The First Day
Dawn broke out over the small, secluded town that stretched over the grass, mountains in the background. The trees were shedding off their green leaves, exchanging them for orange, red, and yellow leaves. The clouds seemed to hang low, clinging to the moisture in the air. Droplets of water stuck on the freshly trimmed grass outside of the Blackburn's cozy, small house that stood atop of an hill. Sunlight trickled in through the window, brightening the second floor's bedroom that Aaron had claimed for himself. The grey alarm clock resting on the nightstand set off at 5:30 a.m. sharp, though he had already been awake before it even set off it's first warning. He swatted away at the annoying machine, and sat up in bed with a sigh. He rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes quickly glancing out of the open window. Today was the beginning of a new school year, in a new town, and with a new family. Let's see how long he'll last.
A quick, hot shower always helped him think; hot water rolling off of his shoulders always made his body and mind relax. The bitter-sweet slap of cold air always woke him up as he emerged from the wall of steam that suffocated him. He reached for the soft, fuzzy towel, and dried his body and hair off as fast as possible. He grabbed some fresh clothes -a dark grey t-shirt and some jeans-, hastily changed, made his dark brown hair look decent, and brushed his teeth; he never really ate breakfast most days anyways. Hanging up the now damp towel, he walked out of the bathroom, his breath fresh and minty, and walked downstairs to greet the Blackburn family. He, technically, was a Blackburn himself, but he could never bring himself to call Jonathan and Ellie 'mom and dad'. Never in his life has he used those two words; he wasn't going to start using them now. So, he always called them by their first names instead. It was easier for him to say in a lot of ways.
"Good morning, Aaron," Ellie greeted with a warm smile, her eyes meeting his. The Blackburn family looked nothing like him; he was constantly surrounded by light, golden blond hair, and met with deep blue, loving eyes. He, on the other hand, had dark brown hair, olive toned skin, and was noticeably taller then them. Instead of short, smooth hands they all had inherited, he had long, gracefully slender hands. Fit for an artist, he had once heard. Everything about him was nearly polar opposite with his adopted family - he tried not to let it bother him, but it always would. "Morning, Ellie," he replied without looking at her twice, leaning over the granite counter, reaching for a red, juicy apple. He bit into the skin of the apple, a crisp crunch filling the cool air in between them. Lucy, his adoptive sister, was still asleep, and he could only assume Jonathan was already at work, regardless of how early it was. "I packed you a lunch. Turkey sandwich with mustard, some chips and water," she said with a smile, nodding to the paper bag that rested on the table. "Thanks," he responded without much thought, and grabbed the paper bag.
The walk to school was, surprisingly, short and pleasant. The small, narrow dirt path had lead him through a small forest area, covered in soft grass, and tall pine trees that seemed to tower over him, blocking any view of the highway or the town down below. He liked it here; it was quiet, secluded and far away from the familiar rush of the busy cities he'd grown up in. Aaron glanced around his surroundings as he walked in silence, earphones in both ears, his hands wrapped around his iPod. He'd gotten it a few years ago for his birthday; one of his only real birthday presents he had ever received. It was old, scratched up, but it was something so much more then what lied on the outside of the device; everything that was in it was what matted to him. Photos of memories he enjoyed (not many of them), and most of all, his music. Music was everything to Aaron. It was all he had to cling onto during the tortuous years of bouncing from house to house, family to family. It was what pulled him through it all. It was the only thing constant, the one thing that never changed. So, he never bothered getting a new one, even if the Blackburn family offered to get it for him. He refused to replace the one thing that mattered so much to him.
The school was a bit larger then he imagined for a population of a little over three hundred high school students. The walls were a faded white, as if it's glory had been washed down over the years, a few weeds popping through the cracks of the concrete stairs that lead up to the entrance. Students were spilled on the stairway, some leaning against a tree, others sitting against the ledge that separated the stairs from the patch of dying grass. It wasn't the greatest school he'd seen, but it wasn't exactly the worst either. So, with a straight, unreadable expression plastered onto his features, he walked up the stairs, not bothering to meet the curious gazes and stares from the students, and entered the high school building. Rows of old, dented navy blue lockers were lined up on the colorless walls. The floor was obviously cracking, though no one seemed to mind. With a deep breath, he walked down the noisy hallway; hundreds of conversations were going all at once, the occasional laughter thrown in. But a few stopped talking as he walked past them, their stares burning through his shirt. He didn't dare look twice at anyone. He just wanted to get through the day, and be over with it. In fact, it'd be great if he could avoid everyone, and then be over with it. But Aaron knew it wouldn't be that simple, or easy.
His locker combination was simple to remember; give him ten minutes, and he can almost remember anything. Aaron, even though he'd gotten the combination down, struggled to open the rusty locker. How long had the school kept these lockers? Decades, at the least. Inside the small locker was nothing but dust, and the occasional gum wrapper thrown carelessly inside. Feeling his OCD kick in, he swiped the dust away with his hand -he would wash it later-, and threw away the wrapper. Aaron had already gotten his textbooks, schedule, and a few other necessities for the first day. He shoved in a few textbooks he wouldn't need until later, and shut the locker door with a click. He slung on the black backpack over one shoulder, and continued to walk around the school, not sure where he was supposed to go. He found himself in an office, asking where his first class was; biology. It wasn't his favorite class, but he didn't really hate it either. Exiting the small, dusty office, he stared down at the map of the school, making his way to classroom 206. He felt as if everyone was staring at him, though he was certain it was just the anxiety getting to him. Why was he nervous, anyways? He'd gone through so many different schools, so why would this be any different?
Classroom 206, as it turns out, was all the way in the back of the building, and to the right. He had easily found it with his map, but hesitated to enter. Beyond the heavy door was a room he'd eventually become familiar with. Inside it, he'd meet people he'd like, and others he wouldn't. Inside that room, he'd start a new school year. A fresh start. And as he reached for the door, he found the anxiety slowly disappearing. He knew he was afraid of nothing. He should be fine. He'd walk in there, sit down, and try not to let the stares get to him. Maybe even get to know someone. Aaron slipped in silently, and shut the door softly behind himself. A few turned their heads as he walked by, their eyes meeting his. He took an empty seat, set his backpack down on the ground, and relaxed against the wooden chair as the bell rung. The teacher, who had books and papers stacked in her hands, walked in the classroom, a sheepish grin on her old, cracked lips. Aaron guessed she was around sixty years old, maybe a little older, but she looked nice enough, he thought. The teacher, who introduced herself as Mrs. Walsh, stood up, and began to introduction. The door opened loudly, and Aaron turned his head, meeting the eyes of a girl. He offered a small, curled smile. It was obvious she was late.
Dawn broke out over the small, secluded town that stretched over the grass, mountains in the background. The trees were shedding off their green leaves, exchanging them for orange, red, and yellow leaves. The clouds seemed to hang low, clinging to the moisture in the air. Droplets of water stuck on the freshly trimmed grass outside of the Blackburn's cozy, small house that stood atop of an hill. Sunlight trickled in through the window, brightening the second floor's bedroom that Aaron had claimed for himself. The grey alarm clock resting on the nightstand set off at 5:30 a.m. sharp, though he had already been awake before it even set off it's first warning. He swatted away at the annoying machine, and sat up in bed with a sigh. He rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes quickly glancing out of the open window. Today was the beginning of a new school year, in a new town, and with a new family. Let's see how long he'll last.
A quick, hot shower always helped him think; hot water rolling off of his shoulders always made his body and mind relax. The bitter-sweet slap of cold air always woke him up as he emerged from the wall of steam that suffocated him. He reached for the soft, fuzzy towel, and dried his body and hair off as fast as possible. He grabbed some fresh clothes -a dark grey t-shirt and some jeans-, hastily changed, made his dark brown hair look decent, and brushed his teeth; he never really ate breakfast most days anyways. Hanging up the now damp towel, he walked out of the bathroom, his breath fresh and minty, and walked downstairs to greet the Blackburn family. He, technically, was a Blackburn himself, but he could never bring himself to call Jonathan and Ellie 'mom and dad'. Never in his life has he used those two words; he wasn't going to start using them now. So, he always called them by their first names instead. It was easier for him to say in a lot of ways.
"Good morning, Aaron," Ellie greeted with a warm smile, her eyes meeting his. The Blackburn family looked nothing like him; he was constantly surrounded by light, golden blond hair, and met with deep blue, loving eyes. He, on the other hand, had dark brown hair, olive toned skin, and was noticeably taller then them. Instead of short, smooth hands they all had inherited, he had long, gracefully slender hands. Fit for an artist, he had once heard. Everything about him was nearly polar opposite with his adopted family - he tried not to let it bother him, but it always would. "Morning, Ellie," he replied without looking at her twice, leaning over the granite counter, reaching for a red, juicy apple. He bit into the skin of the apple, a crisp crunch filling the cool air in between them. Lucy, his adoptive sister, was still asleep, and he could only assume Jonathan was already at work, regardless of how early it was. "I packed you a lunch. Turkey sandwich with mustard, some chips and water," she said with a smile, nodding to the paper bag that rested on the table. "Thanks," he responded without much thought, and grabbed the paper bag.
The walk to school was, surprisingly, short and pleasant. The small, narrow dirt path had lead him through a small forest area, covered in soft grass, and tall pine trees that seemed to tower over him, blocking any view of the highway or the town down below. He liked it here; it was quiet, secluded and far away from the familiar rush of the busy cities he'd grown up in. Aaron glanced around his surroundings as he walked in silence, earphones in both ears, his hands wrapped around his iPod. He'd gotten it a few years ago for his birthday; one of his only real birthday presents he had ever received. It was old, scratched up, but it was something so much more then what lied on the outside of the device; everything that was in it was what matted to him. Photos of memories he enjoyed (not many of them), and most of all, his music. Music was everything to Aaron. It was all he had to cling onto during the tortuous years of bouncing from house to house, family to family. It was what pulled him through it all. It was the only thing constant, the one thing that never changed. So, he never bothered getting a new one, even if the Blackburn family offered to get it for him. He refused to replace the one thing that mattered so much to him.
The school was a bit larger then he imagined for a population of a little over three hundred high school students. The walls were a faded white, as if it's glory had been washed down over the years, a few weeds popping through the cracks of the concrete stairs that lead up to the entrance. Students were spilled on the stairway, some leaning against a tree, others sitting against the ledge that separated the stairs from the patch of dying grass. It wasn't the greatest school he'd seen, but it wasn't exactly the worst either. So, with a straight, unreadable expression plastered onto his features, he walked up the stairs, not bothering to meet the curious gazes and stares from the students, and entered the high school building. Rows of old, dented navy blue lockers were lined up on the colorless walls. The floor was obviously cracking, though no one seemed to mind. With a deep breath, he walked down the noisy hallway; hundreds of conversations were going all at once, the occasional laughter thrown in. But a few stopped talking as he walked past them, their stares burning through his shirt. He didn't dare look twice at anyone. He just wanted to get through the day, and be over with it. In fact, it'd be great if he could avoid everyone, and then be over with it. But Aaron knew it wouldn't be that simple, or easy.
His locker combination was simple to remember; give him ten minutes, and he can almost remember anything. Aaron, even though he'd gotten the combination down, struggled to open the rusty locker. How long had the school kept these lockers? Decades, at the least. Inside the small locker was nothing but dust, and the occasional gum wrapper thrown carelessly inside. Feeling his OCD kick in, he swiped the dust away with his hand -he would wash it later-, and threw away the wrapper. Aaron had already gotten his textbooks, schedule, and a few other necessities for the first day. He shoved in a few textbooks he wouldn't need until later, and shut the locker door with a click. He slung on the black backpack over one shoulder, and continued to walk around the school, not sure where he was supposed to go. He found himself in an office, asking where his first class was; biology. It wasn't his favorite class, but he didn't really hate it either. Exiting the small, dusty office, he stared down at the map of the school, making his way to classroom 206. He felt as if everyone was staring at him, though he was certain it was just the anxiety getting to him. Why was he nervous, anyways? He'd gone through so many different schools, so why would this be any different?
Classroom 206, as it turns out, was all the way in the back of the building, and to the right. He had easily found it with his map, but hesitated to enter. Beyond the heavy door was a room he'd eventually become familiar with. Inside it, he'd meet people he'd like, and others he wouldn't. Inside that room, he'd start a new school year. A fresh start. And as he reached for the door, he found the anxiety slowly disappearing. He knew he was afraid of nothing. He should be fine. He'd walk in there, sit down, and try not to let the stares get to him. Maybe even get to know someone. Aaron slipped in silently, and shut the door softly behind himself. A few turned their heads as he walked by, their eyes meeting his. He took an empty seat, set his backpack down on the ground, and relaxed against the wooden chair as the bell rung. The teacher, who had books and papers stacked in her hands, walked in the classroom, a sheepish grin on her old, cracked lips. Aaron guessed she was around sixty years old, maybe a little older, but she looked nice enough, he thought. The teacher, who introduced herself as Mrs. Walsh, stood up, and began to introduction. The door opened loudly, and Aaron turned his head, meeting the eyes of a girl. He offered a small, curled smile. It was obvious she was late.
Name: Aaron Blackburn
Gender: Male
Age: Seventeen
Brief History: Aaron grew up without parents. They had given him up at age four months for unknown reasons. He went through many different foster homes throughout his whole life, wondering when he'd ever find a home. A family. At age eleven, he had broken his arm; his older foster brother, Andrew, pushed him off of an tree. Age twelve, Aaron started teaching himself to play the guitar, just to let off steam or just take his mind off of everything. Age fourteen, he tried to get information about his parents. He even ran away for a few days that night, confused and wanting someone to hold him. Age sixteen, Aaron got into a fight at school with a jock, and the jock ended up breaking Aaron's nose. But he still won the fight and got expelled for a week. Not to mention he got kicked out for 'bad behavior'. Age seventeen, he finally found a home. He got adopted. Now he has to face school in an small, secluded town. This time, he's staying, hopefully.
Personality: Aaron never talked much as a child. He always preferred to be alone in a room, his eyes staring out of the window, his mind a place so far away from anything else. He was quiet, but to an extent. If anyone gets on his nerves, or -God forbid- makes him angry, he isn't afraid to speak his mind about it. He doesn't usually get angry quickly, but when he does, it's difficult to get him calm and under control. Though he's usually seen silent, he is quite clever, witty and sarcastic if you coax him enough to make him talk. He is patient most of the time, and is quite the gentleman. He hates lying about anything, resulting in him being truthful almost 90% of the time. The other 10% is only occasional little white lies. Aaron is, as many classify him, a 'clean freak'. He has an OCD about keeping everything clean, and in perfect organization. Aaron can be bitter and annoyed when he wants to (which can be often), and usually hides behind a book, or his iPod. He never leaves the house without his iPod; music has always helped him block out everything around him.
Hobbies/Talents: Playing the guitar, running, reading, drawing, and playing hockey.
Appearance:
Misc. Info: He has a deep scar on his shoulder that he tells no one about.
Gender: Male
Age: Seventeen
Brief History: Aaron grew up without parents. They had given him up at age four months for unknown reasons. He went through many different foster homes throughout his whole life, wondering when he'd ever find a home. A family. At age eleven, he had broken his arm; his older foster brother, Andrew, pushed him off of an tree. Age twelve, Aaron started teaching himself to play the guitar, just to let off steam or just take his mind off of everything. Age fourteen, he tried to get information about his parents. He even ran away for a few days that night, confused and wanting someone to hold him. Age sixteen, Aaron got into a fight at school with a jock, and the jock ended up breaking Aaron's nose. But he still won the fight and got expelled for a week. Not to mention he got kicked out for 'bad behavior'. Age seventeen, he finally found a home. He got adopted. Now he has to face school in an small, secluded town. This time, he's staying, hopefully.
Personality: Aaron never talked much as a child. He always preferred to be alone in a room, his eyes staring out of the window, his mind a place so far away from anything else. He was quiet, but to an extent. If anyone gets on his nerves, or -God forbid- makes him angry, he isn't afraid to speak his mind about it. He doesn't usually get angry quickly, but when he does, it's difficult to get him calm and under control. Though he's usually seen silent, he is quite clever, witty and sarcastic if you coax him enough to make him talk. He is patient most of the time, and is quite the gentleman. He hates lying about anything, resulting in him being truthful almost 90% of the time. The other 10% is only occasional little white lies. Aaron is, as many classify him, a 'clean freak'. He has an OCD about keeping everything clean, and in perfect organization. Aaron can be bitter and annoyed when he wants to (which can be often), and usually hides behind a book, or his iPod. He never leaves the house without his iPod; music has always helped him block out everything around him.
Hobbies/Talents: Playing the guitar, running, reading, drawing, and playing hockey.
Appearance:
Misc. Info: He has a deep scar on his shoulder that he tells no one about.
