Hope sat on a bench in the local park. Her short blonde hair rested just above her shoulder and her bangs hung down, covering her blue eyes. She sat with her hands crossed on her blue denim jeans. She looked as if she was waiting for someone, but in truth, she had no one to wait for. Hope's parents had died when she was only young and for fifteen years she had been passed from home to home. No one wanted her. She'd faced that fact long ago.

To her, this park was her home, the only place she felt at peace. When things were stressful, she'd come here and lie down on the bench, just staring up at the sky, or sit on the grass under a shady tree and read a book. It was her version of heaven.

Looking up from her hands, Hope surveyed her surroundings. The park was a bit crowded than usual and she spotted a group of guys playing football on a long patch of grass, the only all grassy spot in the park. Trees were everywhere, trees of all kinds and shapes. They helped to block out the world, making it appear like you were in your own.

Stretching, Hope laid down on the bench and stared up at the sky through the openings of the treetops. She crossed her legs over and closed her eyes, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep before she had to head off to school.

Something hit her side and her eyes flew open. She sat up and stared at the ground, searching for whatever had disturbed her. A brown football sat, half covered by the bench on the ground.

Picking it up, she noticed that it had the initials CM written on it. "Hey, sorry about that. My friend has bad aim."

Hope looked up to lock eyes with an empty pair of blue ones. She shook off her daze and handed him the ball. "Its okay. I don't think I'm dead, so it's okay."

"Cool. Maybe I'll see you around," he yelled as he headed off back to his friends.

"I doubt it," Hope muttered as she stood up and slowly began her walk from heaven to hell.


Caleb and his friends were playing a game of football in the park before they had to head off to school. He never came to the park much, but today they had some time to waste so he thought, why not?

As his friend tossed him the ball, he watched it fly over his head and hit some girl that was lying on a bench.

"Man, look what you did," Caleb said. "Go get it."

"No, you were supposed to catch it, you go get it."

Caleb sighed and jogged over to the girl. He waited a minute and watched her pick up the ball.

She was a pretty girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, like his, full of emptiness.

"Hey, sorry about that. My friend has bad aim," he said and the girl looked up and handed him the ball.

"Its okay. I don't think I'm dead, so it's okay."

He paused for a moment, at a loss of words. "Cool. Maybe I'll see you around."

As he rejoined his friends, he thought he heard her mumble something, but ignored it.

"You know her?" his friend asked.

"Who? That chick, no, never seen her before, why?"

"You two seemed awful friendly."

Caleb hit his friend and sighed. "I wish. C'mon, lets go to school."


Chloe walked down the hall of her school, Murphy High. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, showing off her beautiful features including her emerald green eyes.

She shifted the black bag on her shoulder as she fumbled with her locker combination. Once she got it open, she shoved her bag inside and pulled out a binder for her next class.

She closed the door, turned around and walked straight into the most popular guy in school, Blaine Carson.

When Chloe caught her balance, she didn't apologize because she was convinced it was his fault.

"Sorry," he said. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine. Better stop talking to me before one of your buddy notices," Chloe said and stormed off to her class.

"Nice talking to you too."

When Chloe was far enough away from Blaine, she stopped walking so fast and slowed down her pace. She hated guys like Blaine, popular guys who always belittled everyone else. Her. Chloe was the social outcast of the school, and had a bad attitude problem. Her parents abandoned her when she was seven years old which had left an emotional scar on her for the rest of her life. She never understood why they left her; she was supposed to be their own flesh and blood.

As she came across her first class of the day, Geography, she sighed and walked in. Most seats were already taken, but she spotted one near the back by the window and took it.

Opening her binder, she began to doodle on a piece of paper as the bell rang and class started.


Blaine walked out of the guys' locker room after taking a cold shower. He had early football practice and didn't want to go to class smelling like dirty socks. His baggy jeans were a pair he'd found in his locker, from a few days ago. And his dark Exco sweater he had borrowed from his friend.

He was looking behind him, talking to a friend as they passed by when someone ran into him.

"Sorry," he said. "Are you alright?"

It was Chloe Atkinson. She was the "freak" of the school. Blaine personally had nothing against her, but she obviously did him. "I-I'm fine. Better stop talking to me before one of your buddy notices," she said and stormed off.

Blaine laughed. "Nice talking to you too."


Willow opened the door to Murphy High and walked in.

"Great, late again," she sighed as she slowly made her way to her class.

She wasn't in much of a rush because she didn't really care about class. Her teacher was most likely asleep anyways so she saw no problem with being a few minutes late.

Opening the closed door to her classroom, she realized that it wasn't her ordinary teacher. It was a substitue instead.

The whole class turned their attention to the red head at the door, and Willow looked to them, before looking at the teacher. "Willow O'Hannagan."

"You're late Willow," he said.

"Yeah, well, I doubt I missed much."