The Other Side of Normal.

Chapter 1: Go be in love somewhere else. This is a public school, you nasties.

Hi!

**IN THE MEDIA BOX IS NATALIE**

*Prologue*

Everyone has problems, right? Some people are drug addicts, some people rely on alcohol to take them from this despairing life. Nobody's perfect. No one.
My name is Natalie, and I have emotional problems. Well, more like my problem is dealing with these emotions. I know, I know, everyone has emotional problems, you're not the only one, walk it off. But you see, that's my problem. I can't just walk it off. There's only one thing that I know that can take the pain away. And it's actually quite ironic.
Fight pain with pain, I always say.

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I tilt my head back and laugh. Tears spring in my eyes and escape over my bottom lid, trailing down my face. I wipe them away and smile at my best friend Victoria. Her pale green eyes crinkle as she laughs  along with me and she, too,  wipes away tears of her own. I look over at Libby who is confidently smiling at us, obviously pleased at our reaction to her comment about the annoying couple in front of us. 

I burst back into uncontrollable hysterics at the thought of what Libby had said, how she was going to push them away from each other and get in the middle of them and say, "If I wanted to watch the spreading of STD's, I would watch a porno. This is a public school, you nasties. " I eye the couple again, hoping they will kiss so operation "STD" will commence. Much to my disappointment, they turn into a classroom, leaving us three in the crowded hall. I check the clock. 7:48 AM.

"Shit, we better get to class." I say. Victoria and Libby look at the clock, too, and make that "oh we're screwed" face. We quickly walk down the hall, Victoria departing first to her English class, and Libby and I walk together to our anatomy class. We walk in just as the bell rings, and I look at the clock. 7:49. The damn thing rang a minute early! This place will be the death of me, I think to myself. Mr. Snarkright glares at us from over top his glasses.

"Cutting it close there, ladies." He points out.

"But not late!" I retort slyly. I've never understood why teachers care if we are late or not. They don't like us and treat us like we are a waste of their time, and still get paid at the end of the week, so what is the big deal?  Libby and I make our way over to our seats, and I purposefully drag my chair out excruciatingly slowly so it makes a loud groaning sound. Mr. Snarkright glares at me and I feign innocence and give him a naive look. If he expects me to come to class at 7:50 in the morning and be in a good mood, then he's got another think coming. I know i am being unreasonably annoying, and because I can identify that and accept it, I feel like my actions are justified, its just that I really  hate Snarkright. And its not like he treats me like the queen, either.

 Soon my teacher goes into his lesson on the anatomy and physiology of arm muscles, most of which I ignore, because Mr. Snarkright doesn't know a damn thing he is talking about. So I quietly make fun of him with Libby.

He has this unbelievably annoying under-bite, which gives him a physical appearance of being dumb, which doesn't help his cause. His shiny, balding head could be used as a mirror, and his beer gut clues on to how he spends his evenings at home. I don't mean to be a judgmental bitch, but I have no time or patience for his idiocy.

I turn to Libby, her long dark hair falls over her shoulder in wavy locks, complementing her extremely fair skin. She looks over at me and laughs about what I had just said about Snarkright, her brown/green eyes crinkling around the edges. Her full lips spread in a wide smile, and her naturally upturned nose flares like it normally does when she laughs. I chuckle along and drone out Snarkright. staring at the clock.