Comparing Secret Lives…

I walked home, letting the wind blow my hair into my face. I impatiently brushed away a strand of lengthy pale hair.

The town of Greenwood was extremely small. I didn't know how it even managed a dot on the state map.

But due to the settlement's size, I was able to get home without even having to walk more than a few blocks.

Of course, it wasn't home. It never would be. A home was supposed to be inviting, familiar.

Mine was neither.

After school, Laura had sped off, Richard was nowhere to be found, probably in a closet somewhere, and William had offered to walk me home.

As if. If there were any potential rapists or serial killers in Greenwood, they were most likely next door, having a cup of coffee with old Mrs. Glenn.

Greenwood was just friendly that way. The town could've turned the world's most evil psychopath into Mother Teresa.

So I had declined. If William had walked me home, he'd most probably notice the emptiness of the place- and the lack of parents.

Not to mention the clutter.

When I'd refused softly, he'd given me a hurt look, and I'd felt as if I'd kicked a puppy. A terribly cute one. I swore at myself after that particular thought. Who ever compared teenage boys to dogs?

But this mere human didn't understand why, so I just walked away, feeling his eyes burning holes on the back of my neck.

Finding the key in my pocket, I opened the door, and the wood creaked.

25 Melrose Avenue was a two-story house, with three bedrooms, a huge bathroom, three closets, a spiral staircase, two living rooms, and two other spare rooms I didn't know what to do with.

Meaning that there was a lot of empty space.

Two bedrooms and a whole living room were filled with my instruments. I preferred to call them my toys, for I enjoyed them just as a toddler enjoyed a plastic car.

Musical instruments cluttered the house, and I knew how to play each one.

Most of them I only knew by ear, as I could only read little music.

In all, I had a piano, an electric keyboard, more of my 'thing,' a set of electronic drums Ashley had insisted on, a flute, Cassie's fault, a clarinet, two sets of panpipes, one wood and the other silver, a clarinet I pretty much ignored, it was more of Leo's fixation, two violins, one mahogany and the other made of a black-colored wood, and two guitars, one was a bass.

All-in-all, my musical knowledge was a bit overdone.

I hated the way I depended on it, though. I had only depended on three other things, and I wanted to keep it that way.

I hated my gifts in dancing, in musical instruments. Before, back at home, it had been my 'special reward' for being me.

For being me.

I felt the hate once again come back, filling me up. I mentally glared at these shadowed, faceless people who caused this reaction.

Slowly, my anger disappeared. Instead, a lonely, empty feeling came to replace it.

I was pretty sure it wasn't jetlag.

There was no name for this feeling, but to me, it just was.

I sat down on the couch. I didn't feel like playing, so I just fingered the wooden panpipes. They were old, traditional, and stood for something I couldn't grasp.

Just like Schuyler did.

Just like Schuyler.

Homework was no obstacle for me. My determination pretty much won against my lazy manner.

I finished the worksheet and assessments these humans were so keen on me doing.

It was basic stuff, hardly challenging.

Still, it wore me out, and I cursed like a sailor when I got a paper cut from page 98 in my history textbook. It would cause hell the next day.

Eventually, I fell asleep, muttering something about 'damn friends who want the best for you…'

A/N: Now, I know, Kel seems like a total bitch. She's a bit amusing, however. Hey, remember to review and make this girl very, very happy. Come on, you know you wanna.