I make it back to my dorm just in time to find I can get about an hour of sleep before I need to go to class. I get ready in my usual band tee and shorts for pj's and get into bed, falling asleep quiet fast. As I dream, the nightmares don't come, instead I imagine myself with Vincent under a tree, me drawing, him smiling and saying something that makes me smile and laugh. The dream was like no other I have had, it felt to almost be real and I had a desire for it to be real. As soon as it get's to Vincent and I actually having a good conversation, the alarm right next to my bed screams and snaps me out of the peaceful dream. I reach over and unplug it while I get out of bed in my usual grumpy mood. I walk into the bathroom, at stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are red, but don't hide the bruises and the black eye that is now healing, on my face. I frown as I get angry and thinking the mirror to be Draco's face, I punch it, breaking it into shards that fly onto the counter top and all over the ground.

I clean what is left of the mirror and get ready. I stare at my clothing as I put a hoody on over the band tee and black skinny jeans I have on. I put on my military boots as I grab my bag and head to class. I had gotten my schedule the day before and my first period, and the only period I really liked, is art. And during the whole time I walk to art I think about the art work my mom and I did before everything happened. The flowers, the bugs and insects we drew, the sunsets and sunrises, the people, everything we drew.

I don't realize it until I come face to face with the easel in front of my that I had gotten to class early. There weren't many people, just some kids who looked to be popular and thought this was going to be an easy A. I smirk at how dumb they must be to think art is easy as the teacher come's in. He looked to be young and like he knew what he was doing. He even looked to be emo like me. 'Interesting,' I think to myself.

"Hello class, my name is Dylan Reeds. But you can just call me what you want. Now, for those of you who think this would be an easy A class, you might want to get out now." Half the class stood up and walked out after he state the fact art isn't easy. My smirk turned into a giggling smirk, which was overheard by the teacher. "Excuse me..."

"Annabelle, but I go by Anna."

"Yes, Anna. Do you find something funny?"

"Yes, I mean, I just think it's funny how people can think art is such a simple thing when it has different meanings. I mean, it expresses something we can truly state out loud, it expresses what feelings we can say in words, it has many meanings besides the fact that it's just art."

"I see you truly understand the meaning of art if you know all of that. It'll be a pleasure to have you in our class." As he goes on to explain what we are to do in this class and our first assignment, I look around to see some people smiling at me and other's glaring at me. And as time goes on soon no one is staring, but I mostly focus on my drawing of a flower and focus on completing it before class is over.

The hour and thirty minutes fly by fast, leaving me with a almost complete drawing of a rose. I pack up my things and bring it to the teacher. "Here you go. Just to tell you, I'm not done." I start walking away when I feel someone grab my bad wrist. Quietly, again, I yelp in pain. I turn to see the teacher holding my wrist.

"You drew this?" he spoke with a confused and shocked look on his face.

"Yeah, I also drew these." I took out my sketch pad and show him all the other drawings I have drawn over the past years.

"Wow, I mean, how did you learn how to draw so well?"

"My mom taught me. Um, I got to go to my next class," I manage to get out as I laugh and run to my next class, calculus. I get to class to see I was one of the last people to get there. I took a seat in the back as the teacher came in. I blocked everything out except for her name, Mrs. Nowy. 'Ugh, what kinda name is that?' I thought to myself. As the day went on I had thee most boring classes ever. Each class I would block out the whole lesson and continue to draw. As the day came to an end, I skipped a few classes and went back to my dorm, put on some comfortable clothing for doing archery, put my hair into a high pony tail, grab my bow and arrows, then run over to the archery range.

I was there for at least an hour before I saw my arm and realized I didn't cover it. Now, burning and bright red, I put down my bow and held my arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" I turn to see Vincent standing there.

"Uhhhhhh...." 'What do I do? What do I say?' I think to myself, or so I thought.

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