Kidnapped without a trace, Gerard butler

|One|

AUTHORS NOTE:

In the process of editing and finishing this chapter please let me know what you think so far in the comment section.

The first day of school, one of the most hated days of the year by millions of students around the world had come to pass once again.

Eighth graders trying their hardest to dress their best for a brand new start at the high school they would be attending, trying to attract as many eyes of the girls and boys in grades above them, so they didn't feel so out of place.

The sophomores in school all trying their hardest to become something in their near future, forcing themselves into the horrific theatre, and art classes they could be accepted in as if they would actually make something out of themselves with their three year old like drawings plastered all over the high school walls, and horrific acting being held on random days of the week for the kids who thought they could become an actor just by reading words straight off of a piece of paper in their school.

The juniors mainly just focused on cheerleading, football, and basketball, trying to make themselves feel better about themselves by throwing their "talents" around on a small field in front of hundreds of people.

And last but not least.

The seniors showing up to classes wearing practically just their pajamas because they didn't care how they looked anymore, and honestly, the teachers just let them do what they liked.

You sigh lightly watching small groups of people walk past you and towards the entrance of the dull brown bricked school you would practically be calling home for the next several months as if they had been waiting on this day to come.

You were a freshman in this school, one of the freshmen that didn't care much for trying to dress up well for others.

The most you would do is throw on to tight skinny jeans, along with a tshirt that was to big for you covering your back end comfortably. Your hair would be thrown in a messy bun on top of your head, and your face covered in very light foundation, a small amount of lipstick close to the same color of your actual lips, and very little mascara that once again matched your lashes very well.

You never understood why girls would walk around with fifteen pounds of foundation, highlighters, bronzers, setting spray, lash extensions, hair extensions, and contacts in their eyes.  To you all of those modifications to the woman's appearance just made them look fake,like they were not the person they had made themselves out to be. 

You tuck a stray piece of hair behind your right ear before beginning to walk behind a group of band nerds that were probably on their sophomore year of school by the looks of their ages.

Honestly you blended in well with this sort of group.

None of the people you were trying to blend in with at the moment had been extraordinarly
Pretty, one girl had on black square glasses over her eyes, from the look of them they turned into sunglasses if the sun hit them in the right direction.

Her hair was cut right below her shoulder line, a dark brown color obviously box dyed.

Her teeth were covered in metal braces covering sone of her yellow stained teeth. 

her clothing consists of a baggy black shirt that had "One Direction" plastered over it with a few gay looking boys smiling awkwardly towards your person, their arms wrapped around one another, and tight black leggings covered the bottom half of her body, complimenting her crazy thick thighs.