There are highs and lows in life. Everyone loves the highs, and no one likes to acknowledge the lows. But without the highs, there would be no lows, and without the lows, there would be no highs. Have you ever wondered what life would be like without the lows? Happy? Perfect? Yeah. That's what I thought too. But a high never exists without a low. It's like... black without white. Or positive without negative. One can simply not live without the other. Don't get me wrong, without all the bad vibes and negative thoughts and all the down feelings; everything would be great, perfect even. Everyone would be happy and all that stuff but would we really be happy? Would we really live in the perfect world we all dream of? We wouldn't because... let’s be honest, nothing's perfect and without the lows there would be no highs, and everyone would live such simple, boring, emotionless lives. Before you judge me and judge this book, no I'm not a Goth, depressed girl who wants to kill herself, no, I'm not an emo either. I'm neither. I'm just an ordinary girl with a lot of baggage. AND before you judge me even more and say "I don't do baggage" because I know you're thinking it. I won't tell you my baggage to simply get your sympathy or your empathy, whichever one you want to call it. I want you to live through it with me. To feel what I feel every day, to know that life's not all about fun and games but it’s not too serious to have a laugh once in a while.

I live through the pain, and all you have to do is read about it, so just...read on.

~Zafiyra

New girl. New school. New country. New family. New everything. No, I'm not an orphan. My parents just- how would you put it in a way that wouldn't make you hate or dislike my parents- didn't want me... I know they love me, waiting for the day I'm able to travel on my own and go back home and defend and live for myself. A few more weeks. A few more weeks and I'll know for sure. They promised. They promised they’d let me come back.

As I stand at the entrance of this foreign place, the February winds attack my legs with frozen arrows that leave a trail of iciness as it scratches away at my skin, forcing me to move towards what I hope will provide me shelter from this bitter cold. The smell of car fumes burns my nose as it surrounds my senses, giving me more reason to go inside. The moment I step through the door, I’m hit with the humidity of the place, a complete contrast to the temperatures outside, warming me up to what little I can feel. Hallways are vacant, silence patrolling them, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Making my way towards the reception area to sign in and collect whatever is needed for my first day of school I notice that the school doesn't seem as big as it does from the outside.

"Hello, Miss. I'm Zafiyra, the new student here." I know what you're thinking and don't you dare ask. Yes, my name is Zafiyra and no it's not Zafiera or Zafira, like the car company. It's pronounced Zaf-i-ra. Some would say that the 'y' is silent, but it's not, the 'i' has emphasis.

"Ah, yes. The exchange student from America. Zafiyra Black. Yes, here you go. Here's your timetable and new planner for the year. There's a map of the school building in there if you need help getting your way through school. Hope you have a great first day here." What's a planner? Where's my locker? Where the hell is my first-day buddy? What is this place?

"Um...sorry but...where do I go first?"

"Oh sorry, but it seems that your tour guide is a little late, why don't you take a seat, I'm sure he'll come in a few minutes." Way to be prepared new school.

Waiting around, I take in the interior of this concrete jungle. The stark white walls, sucking the life out of the already dull lockers.

The ordinary doors leading into extraordinary classrooms remind me of school in Connecticut. The doors were drab, black with subject posters hanging off them by the small amount of blutack stuck to them, holding onto dear life. They brought color, life, back to the environment. The canary yellow walls reminded me of a bird. I could just imagine the posters being feathers, brings wonder and color to the dull, boring world that we live in.

Whereas, these doors were blank, plain, empty. I feel as if they're naked compared to the ones back home. Sucking the life out of what could be appealing. The floor's squeaky clean, almost brand new. I could practical see my reflection gazing back at me. Wondering if I would get to one of my classes today, my thoughts were interrupted by a gush of wind bombarding into the school's perfect heat. A chill runs down my spine, not only from the cold but from the rare specimen of a man that just walked in.

What are you thinking? You don't need friends, you don't want friends, you’ll only be here for a maximum of nine months. You'll only leave a trail of broken hearts like you did before. Averting my gaze, I lower my head, so I'm unable to see who walked in at all. You don't need friends. You don't want friends. You'll only cause pain to those around you... Don't get attached.

~Kyal

Late. Again. Great. Here comes another detention. In my defence I'm not late, I just don't show up for form. I don't really see the point. Just a waste of five minutes of my life.

Making my way towards the school building I notice something's different. The normal smoke that we inhale every morning is more intense, stronger. Someone's waiting around... I wonder why.

"Hey Miss, what's up? Anything new today?" I notice a girl burning a hole through the ground. It looks like her mouth is moving, she's talking to herself. Madness.

"Yes, Kyal, late again but that's not a surprise. We actually have a new student joining our sixth form today." The receptionist says this as she passes me a clipboard with a form I need to sign, telling anyone who walks in that I'm always late. Not going to lie, I really don't see the point in signing this; if you're late then you're late. Can't really do anything about it. Yes, my name is Kyal. It’s not some Japanese name with some fancy pronunciation. It’s just simple spelt different to the typical Kyle. So in simple terms, Kyle and Kyal are pronounced the same way. So, I’m Kyal.

New girl sure seems weird, talking to herself and all. Making my way towards her I realise that she knows that I'm there just refuses to acknowledge my presence. Stuck up bitches be like that.

"Hi there, you going to look up at me or are you going to pretend that you don't know that I'm standing in front of you?" I know I came off as cocky just then but I don't really care. She didn't even look up, is she deaf? Can't talk? Or just plain rude?

"Are you deaf or are you just going to ignore me?" She still refuses to look up. Well, I give up. I'd rather not beg for a conversation with a weird girl. I might as well just go to class...HA! Me going to class early? That's funny! I'm just going to going to walk around.

~Zafiyra

He's so persistent. Didn't he get the hint when I didn't even look at him?

"Zafiyra, it seems that your tour guide for the day won't be in today. If you don't mind just looking around yourself. As I said before, there's a map in your planner; it will help you find your way around." Really? No tour guide, cocky ass guy in the school. What next, rules against my blue dip dye and my piercings?

Getting up is a chore. My back pain hasn't helped me in anyway, and hospital beds are just peachy. My limbs feel heavy, indicating that I haven't taken my pain meds in a few hours. I fish them out of my bag with a bottle of water, consuming them in record time. I don't want anyone to know. I don't want people’s pity or sympathy. I just want to be an ordinary girl who finishes her final grade of high school. Back home I would have been in twelfth grade, a senior. My final year. The one year that had to go to shit. The one I dreamed would be my perfect year. But no, Fate and Destiny had their own plans. Do you know what's worse, they didn't go their own ways, no, they decided to collaborate and make my one dream, my one wish, to disintegrate and disappear. All within one result. One stupid letter I wished I never got nor ever opened! You probably think I'm overreacting, but knowing what I know, you'd act the same way.

Taking out my planner from my bag, I flick through the pages making an attempt to find this so called map. This should be an interesting day.

~ Kyal

She's weird but why can't I get her out of my head? It's like... it's like life’s trying to tell me something. Strange, I know. But it’s happened before, my sister met a man who felt too good to be true, I couldn't forget him, forget what he said, forget what he looked like, his smile, everything. Ended up being a fraud and conned his way into my sister’s life. Broke her heart, forcing her to move away, all the way to Australia. I'm happy for her now; she's got a great husband and two kids. This girl, whatever her name is, whoever she is... she's special. Different. Important.

The one thing you must know when bunking class. Never get caught. Get caught and you're in deep shit. That's why it’s best to know your school, know the places that would be quiet and empty during class. I'm not the only one who doesn't go to form, I'm sure there's a lot of people just like me, bunking form because they know it's a waste of time. There really is no point going.

To be honest, I'm the kind of guy that just goes with the flow, that does things without thinking about the consequences. The happy go lucky bad guy that sits in the back of every class. But one thing that does get to me is girls. Every single one of them. They all either piss me of or are the most annoying things in the world. Not being sexist at all, just that the girls in this sixth form are either too stuck up and smart to even consider my presence or are too clapped and messed in the head for me to even give them any attention. My ex-girlfriend included. She just does not get a hint. Even when you spell it out for her. Biggest regret of my life. Don't worry; you'll meet her in a few more pages.

My chin collided into someone's head, causing me to stumble back a few steps and the other person to fall on the floor.

"Hey, watch where you're going." Aww crap, I can't feel my chin. Shit. "Don't you have ey-" looking down I see it’s not just anyone, but the strange girl who, I have my suspicions, is probably deaf...

"I'm really sorry about that, is your chin okay? I didn't see you, which I ridiculous because you're like a giant. Again I'm really sorry about bumping into you." Note: when she's nervous she babbles... a lot. Yes, I am practically a giant, 6ft 5 is a giant to most apparently. Her body looks really small tucked into herself as she picks her things up from the floor, she must have dropped it during the collision.

"So you can talk, and you could probably hear me too. I knew you were just being rude. It’s okay, how's your head?" She looked up noticing, for the first time, who it was.

"I'm sorry about earlier too, that's was really rude of me." She has a dead giveaway American accent. Her voice as sweet as honey dripping into my ear and planting itself into my memory. As she stands up I finally get a closer look at her profile. Blue piercing orbs greet me as she looks me straight in the eyes. The depth of those things are infinite, they show pain and happiness, desperation yet contentment. Love and hatred for this cruel world. Her cute little button nose giving her the innocent childish look; her plump lips are as pink as a rose, soft and kissable. The yellow sunshine that cascades down from her scalp to her lower back is invaded by a harsh blue colour. It seems as if the happy yellow is being invaded by the angry, depressed blue, growing as it takes over what was once a ray of sunshine. Her sun kissed skin makes her hair look more vibrant than it already is.

The innocent look diminished with the piercings that surround her outer ears and an eyebrow piercing and what I assume would be a lip ring as well. What I thought would be a small girl who's about 5 ft. 4, is in fact a 5 ft. 9ish girl. I guess you could say most Americans are actually quite tall. Not only is the girl gorgeous but also has manners. Nice! You don't see these kind of girls much, ones with manners.

"I'm Kyal. And you are?" I ask, I need to know this girl's name.

"Lost." What? The girl's name is Lost? I actually feel sorry for her. Her parents must have been high when they named her. "Your name's Lost?"

"No, my name's not Lost. I am lost. As in I don't know where I'm going." THANK THE LORD!!!! "You asked me what I am. I'm lost. There was no tour guide to show me around and it's my first day here and I don't know anything about this country or this place or this area. All I know is that I'm here and have to get through this year." She's finally collected all her belongings and arranged them neatly in her bag and holding her planner with the map page open. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get even more lost and try and find my way to my first class."

"How about I show you around?" I offer, throwing all my English charm into that one question.

"I think I'll pass, but thanks for the offer." How could she resist the charm? Is there something wrong with her?

"Are you sure?" Just making sure I didn't hear her wrong.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll have to learn the ways around here one day, why not make it the first day?" Yep. There's definitely something wrong with her.

"Oh...well...okay then. Hope you get to your classes on time...I guess...um...I'll see you around."

"Yeah. I'll see you around. Bye Kyal." She says as she walks away. I didn't even get her name. Wow, way to go Kyal, she changes the subject off her with the flutter of an eyelash, you bloody fool.

~Zafiyra

Well, what can I say? I'm true to my words... I'm even more lost than I was before. To be truthful to myself and to those of you who have read enough of my story... I'd much rather be lost than have to go on a school tour with this Kyal guy.

Yes... I will admit that he's hot. The brown hair that curls slightly at the end probably feels as soft as it looks, oh what I would give to run my hands through his hair just to know. Ignore I even said that, just me being a hormone ridden girl. His pale skin with a touch of a summer tan, a comparison to his dark soft hair. Those emerald green eyes gazing at you, questioning everything in sight. His lips look too feminine for his face. The bridge of his nose has that bump showing that he's had his fair share of fights. His cheek bones and jaw are as rigid as they should be for someone who has amazing features. His muscular build adding definition to his already amazing features. His build isn't too muscular but it isn't too scrawny. He's lean but not too lean. His 6ft 5ish height is quite intimidating to those who are short. Out of all things that captivated my attention was his cocky attitude. He may be pretty but he's an egotistical, cocky bastard. His beauty is only skin deep.

Checking my timetable and the map I realise I've just walked in a circle... four times... with my appointed English Literature class I realise it's on the other end of the hallway. Making my way down the hallway I notice that homeroom hasn't been let out yet. How long does this place so homeroom for? Or did I miss the first bell? Just when I was about to check the bell rings indicating the end of that...hour? Checking the time, I realised I didn't only miss homeroom but so English Lit. I missed an hour and five minutes. I missed an entire lesson. Well kudos to me.

"Well hello again." Greets a familiar strong British accent, behind me. Karma's out to get me. I just know it. Turning around, putting on my best happy face and my sarcastic tone.

"Hello to you too Kyal. What a coincident that we meet again in the same day." I greet in a flirtatious tone, without meaning to. Don’t want to make him think that I’m interested.

"Yeah...what a coincidence! What class did you just have?"

"English Literature."

"Really? Wow! Because I just had that lesson too. Did you find your way there?" Now... how would I answer this question? Sarcastic and bitch like him... or the nice person that I tend to be? Hmmmm... sarcastic bitch it is.

"Of course I did! That's why it looks like I'm heading towards the classroom that I was meant to be in two minutes ago. Now if you'll excuse me I'll just make my way to..." checking my timetable, "Art."

Before I could make my escape he grabs onto my arm with enough force to prevent me from moving but not enough to bruise me, and stares me straight in the eyes

"Let me take you there."

"It's fine. I'll find my way." I protest while tugging my arm back out of his strong grip.

"No you won't. If you could do it by yourself, you wouldn't have missed English Lit with Mr Flip." How would he know who my Eng. Lit teacher is? Seeing the confusion on my face and the question written on my lips, "I'm in your class." Ohhh, well that explains that.

"It's not like you're in my Art class, you probably have something like Gym."

"No, I have that on Wednesday's, I have History, which is one floor above the Art and Design floor."

"That's okay, I'm fine, just give me the directions and I'll make my way over there."

"Lost, I don't want you to get lost again. Might as well get you there on time so you have a lesson today." He states directing me towards the correct classroom.

"Question. Why are you helping me now? At the beginning of the day you were such a cocky bastard. Why do you care now?"

"I was not cocky, I just found you rude. And I did care from the start. Not going to lie to you, you're different, special. I don't know how, but you just are." Stay calm, he doesn't know. No one knows, not even your foster parents. Don't stress out.

As we pass the maths section, I realised all the core subjects are on one floor. English, Maths and Science. To be honest, I haven't the slightest clue with what I'm doing. The British education system is completely different to the one back home in America. Here you get to pick what subjects you want to do, whereas back home you had to do all of them. This place has primary school, then secondary then collage or sixth form then university. Before it all the have something known as nursery. It's really strange. Really don't get why they go through such a long process. I'd be in high school, applying to UCLA or NYU. I heard that after collage you go to Uni. England is completely different compared to America. I think I'll apply over internet to NYU they have a great Art therapy program. If I get through whatever I'm going through right now, I'd like to be an Art therapist. It just seems like an interesting job, watching people draw as a stress relieve, no matter what their drawing abilities are.

Kyal guided me towards my Art class while informing me about certain aspects about the school. How they have a really good science department, amazing language facility etc.

I couldn't really care about stuff like this and I couldn't... shouldn't... care for people like Kyal. I'd rather not hurt more people. I've hurt the people who love me most, what makes me worth people’s time if I won't be around long enough for them to know the real me. The girl who believed there was such thing as forever. A happy ever after. What did Maroon 5 say in that song... Payphone? If "Happy Ever After" did exist, I would still be holding you like this. All those fairy tales are full of shit. One more fucking love song, I'll be sick. Well... I guess you could say I already am.

Remember Zafiyra, if I can't remember it, you remember it for me... you don't need anyone. They don't need you. You can do this on your own. You have to. They don't want your pain. They don't need you. They don't need you. They don't need you.