I woke up and saw it was half past 7, according to the red digital numbers on my plastic black alarm clock. Luckily, I was already dressed in a black, long sleeved, V neck ribbed shirt and black skirt. I was already dressed because my room was slightly cold. I went downstairs into the small kitchen and noticed my dad had already left for work; this was nothing new. He was the manager of a grocery store which opened early in the mornings. My mom, younger siblings – 15 year old josh and 13 year old Hannah - and my older brother, 21 year old Eric, were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, which was bacon, waffles and pancakes. I only had a half hour to get to school; therefore, I didn't have time for breakfast. I started heading toward the kitchen door, which was also the back door.

"What, no breakfast Morgan?" Eric asked.

Hannah and Josh looked up with surprised looks on their faces.

"No not today Eric I don't have the time."

"Well ok."

"But breakfast is-" Hannah started to say.

"The most important meal of the day. Yes I know I know. But, like I said, I don't have time."

I went out the door, closing it behind me. My friend Sierra was standing outside, ice on her eye. Mr Feeny, our neighbor, friend and teacher, was watering his garden.

"Miss Matthews Miss Hunter, good morning," he greeted us.

"Hi Mr. Feeny," I said.

Even though I wasn't particularly up to talking I still liked Mr. Feeny; he was a good teacher, and he always tried to be friendly to his neighbors. He was the only one who called Sierra and I formally. On my good days, I liked this.

"Hi," Sierra said, without looking at him.

We started going on our way.

"Um, Miss Hunter?" Mr. Feeny said.

"Yes?" Sierra replied, as not to be rude.

"Did something happen?"

"I fell."

"Ohh. Must've been quite a, um, fall."

"Yes. It was."

"I'll see you in class."

"Ok."

We started walking on the sidewalk. I knew Sierra hadn't really fallen. I also knew she would tell me what happened when she was ready. Although mr. feeny knew it wasn't just a 'fall' he also knew enough, and was wise enough to not say anything. Other than in class he didn't push people to talk.

"I'm sorry Morgan," she apologized.

"You don't have to apologise to me. I know why you did that."

"I know, but I feel so bad, esp. if it's to Mr. Feeny. Yeah I may not always want to talk to him but he's a good person and a good teacher who actually cares about his students."

"Yeah Sierra but if you're not ready to tell him then you're not ready."

"True. Hard for me to believe that. And be ok w/ it."

"yeah I get it I have depression. I think regardless of age it's hard to be ok w/ things. Well for me it is."

"me too," she said smiling.

"and i'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to-"

"-remember it. Yes."

"What time did you wake up?" I asked her, in order to change the subject.

She smiled gratefully: "6. You?"

"Oh. 7:30."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah I'll prolly be late. At least you had time to eat breakfast."

"No, not really."

"Oh."

I wondered how a person can 'not really' have time to eat breakfast. They either do or they don't. I didn't ask though.

Soon enough we had arrived at school, and in class. It was 8:30 by now. My teacher, Miss Rainer, handed me a pink slip.

"Morgan, Miss Shannon wants to see you," she told me.

At this rate I'd be even later to class.

I got my stuff, walked out of the room, down the hall to the stairs, down the stairs to the first floor, down the hall on the first floor and into the main office of the guidance counselor's office.

"Hi who are you here to see?" the receptionist asked me.

"Miss Shannon," I said, showing her my slip.

"She's right in there, down the hall."

"Ok."

As if I needed to know where Miss Shannon was.

I continued down the hall to the last door.

"Come in," Miss Shannon said.

I did so, closing the door behind me.

"Oh hi Morgan I wanted to see you."

"Yes, I know." That's why I got the pink slip from my teacher this morning. That's why I'm here. You do realize I'm late to class because of this? But you know you want to be that person that's cool.

"Morgan, would you mind sitting down?" the pretty, short haired, blonde woman asked.

"Yes, yes I would." Actually.

"Okkk." She could see this wasn't going to be easy.

"Morgan, it has come to my attention that you have engaging in self destructive activities."

Well duh. I already knew that. I wonder who told her…..

"Who told you?" I asked.

"Well I'm really not allowed to-"

"Who. Told. You."

"A student."

"Uh huh. Anyone I know of?"

that was interesting. She wasn't allowed to tell me who told her and yet...someone else was allowed to go behind my back and tell her about me w/o my consent.

"Well Morgan this isn't really…"

She's just wasting my time. I turned around and left.

"Morgan we're not finished!" she called after me.

But I didn't care. I was late for my next class as it was. I didn't have time to talk to her.

I made my way back up the hallways and the stairs. It was now 9. My next class was art, such a relief for my troubled mind and turbulent emotions. I remember in the book Speak she says; 'art follows lunch like a dream follows a nightmare.' But I hadn't had lunch yet, although that was true. I'm currently rereading that book despite my busy schedule.

When I arrived, class had already started but the teacher was nowhere to be found. I didn't know if we had a substitute or where they were. So it was just art, as calling something a class implies there's going to be teaching. And there wasn't any yet.

I set my heavy red backpack on the floor and sat down at the far end of the table, in a light wooden chair with metal legs. These chairs were not very comfortable. A girl across the long, rectangular, white metal table looked at me. I looked at her, thinking give me a second to breathe a little. I opened my backpack and took out my large sketchpad and pencils. I was very good in art, currently working on a drawing of a black winged gothic angel in a white hospital bed in a white hospital room. It was snowing all around her. Yes, quite a contrast. It was also quite a contrast to the weather outside, which was warm and sunny.

I loved art, it was just about my favourite class. We didn't usually have assignments, or homework. As long as we did some form of artwork and worked on it each time. The teacher, when he was there, was very laid back. The only 2 rules were that we had to work on something and we had to be quiet.

Art felt like breathing to me, very quiet breathing. Like water. All that mattered was you and your artwork. And the silence. The silence that stopped things for just a few hours.

"Morgan," my friend Leo whispered.

I was so absorbed in my work that I nearly jumped.

"Sorry luv didn't mean to startle you," he apologized.

I nodded, still drawing.

"Do you wanna hang out in the park during lunch?" he asked.

I nodded again.

"Ok."

I looked up; "I'll be in the auditorium after this class."

"Ok."

"I could use a cigarette."

"Yeah I know what that's like."

I continued drawing. The 2 hours seemed like only minutes when class was over. I packed up my stuff and headed towards the auditorium. The security guards were nowhere to be found. But, just to be safe, I used the back entrance, which led onto the stage. No one was in the auditorium. Well, that I could see, anyway.

I put my stuff on the light wooden stage floor, to the side of it, and sat down in the middle of it. I loved the auditorium. It was my favourite place in the entire school. People weren't allowed in there, unless you were rehearsing for a play or something. If the security guards caught you they reported you to your parents. I highly doubted my parents would notice, as they were busy with my siblings. The auditorium was so huge, so quiet. It was like being in art class, but I wasn't drawing at this current time. Oh sure people prolly knew I wasn't in class but no one had really said anything about it that I can remember.

I stretched out on the stage, my head on my hands, and listened to the silence