Do you know that feeling you get when it's the very beginning of summer and you make the stupid descision to start swimming that first day, and then you actually put your feet into the water only to find out that it's ice cold? That feeling that shoots up your spine and makes your whole body hurt? That's what trying to move on feels like. Every morning you feel a little more warm and little better, then you realize what your life really is and you can't forget. That's how my days have been for the past year. Cold. Lonely. Painful. The worst part was, no one tried to save me. It's almost as if after a traumatic incident, you're allowed a few months of greiving, but then you're forced to move on. Maybe it's only different to me. My parents are dead. I have no support to get over them. I'm alive, but I'm not really living. I'm constantly reminded that they're dead whenever I look into the mirror. Everyone told me that I have my mother's eyes. I haven't been able to see it, until now. But I can only look at one of my eyes, because I only have one.

There is a gaping hole where one of my eyes used to be. It was taken from me, along with my mother and father. Gone. Every time that I see that empty void and damaged skin, I can't help but shudder. Disgusting. I'm Disgusting. Even my foster parents think so. They look at me and regret picking me. I can tell. Not to mention, they think I can saved by God. How can God save me? Things like that aren't real.

"Ciel, honey, we're taking you to school today," my foster mother interrupted my thoughts with her slight southern accent. I didn't reply to her, I merely pushed myself out of bed and went through the tedious process of dressing myself. I wasn't eating. I wasn't sleeping. It clearly showed on my body. I was only five feet tall, and I was incredibly small. I guess it isn't normal to be able to see your rib cage clearly through your skin. My whole body ached, and it took everything that I could to get ready and go to school.

Rockridge High School looked more like a prison, and from the moment I walked in, I was an outcast. I was too small, I wore an eyepatch, I dressed far more formally than anyone inside, then again I was homeschooled for most of my life with my parents. This was a new experience entirely. The teachers didn't like me at all at first glance. I already knew all of this material anyways, it was easy.

Lunch was a whole lot different than classes. Every table that I tried to sit at glared at me. I clearly wasn't wanted anywhere. The last table only was taken by one boy, nose deep in a book. He had silky black hair, and he looked friendly enough. We'd probably just sit in awkward silence, anyways. I approached him slowly, and set my tray down.

"Hi," I greeted quietly, "May I sit beside you?" I almost fell over when he gazed up at me with the most odd crimson eyes.

"Of course," he replied, "I'm Sebastian. And no, I'm not wearing contacts. This is my natural eye color."

"My name is Ciel. And no, I don't wear my eyepatch as a fashion statement. Also I am old enough to be in High School," I replied, sitting down in front of the other male, "What are you reading?"

"A Dance With Dragons. It's in the Game of Thrones series. So why are you sitting here and not with your friends?"

"I don't have friends. This is my first day here and everyone hates me... Also, what is this?" I looked down at the food on my tray and almost gagged. It had a putrid scent that could make someone pass out.

"Don't eat that," he answered, opening his lunch box and handing me a small container, "Lucky for you I'm not going to eat this." I opened the package he handed me and inhaled a familiar scent. I looked up at him with a garteful expression, and he dissmissively waved his hand, shutting his book with ease. Expertly made sushi with ginger was inside the little container, and it could kill me. I scarfed down the contents of the container, instantly becoming embarrassed when I noticed Sebastian staring at me.

"Thank you," I whispered, nervously looking down.

"My mother has been practicing cooking foreign foods. Let's just say that the African dishes weren't so great, so she decided to try to make sushi. We have loads in the house. I can bring you some tomorrow if you'd like," he explained, "I'm having stomach ailments so I'm not able to eat. Hereditary, not contagious."

"Your mother is amazing cook. I'm sorry about your stomach issues. I have no depth perception, so there's no way I will ever be able to be better than terrible at sports if that makes you feel better," I replied, bringing a pale finger up to the black silken eyepatch, "I lost it in an accident, not some weird infection. Not contagious." I saw a small smile flash over Sebastian's lips, and he chuckled.

"I like you. You're welcome to sit here whenever you'd like. You say you're new here, yeah? Well don't take the bus home. They'll murder you. It's better to walk," his voice was beautiful. I could feel Sebastian's eyes on me.

"I don't know how to get home..." I replied, "I mean, I know my address and such, I just don't know how to get there from here."

"Use your phone," Sebastian suggested.

"I, ah, don't have one. My foster parents don't believe in having cell phones..."

"I'll walk you home," Sebastian stated, his crimson eyes glued on me. Shifting nervously, I looked at him a bit curiously.

"Why don't other people sit with you?" I asked.

"They either think I'm some Satanic freak or they're afraid of talking to me because of something superficial like beauty. I'm not being conceited. Many girls here have asked to date me."

"And why aren't those girls around now?"

"I don't like girls."

"So you're gay?"

"Yes. And now everyone who sees you sitting by me is going to think that you are as well."

"I don't care. It's better than being constantly pursued and attacked by girls... I don't know. I haven't really been thinking about things like that... I cut myself off from the world a year ago. This is the first time I've actually had a real conversation since then..."

"I hope I'm not too terrible to talk to."

"I like talking to you. I'm just another person, so don't get all weird on me."

"You're the only person who has ever sat beside me." Sebastian smirked, but it faded into a soft smile. I didn't really know what to say, he was right. I had not expected to make an acquiantance, but here, I had. Before I knew it, lunch was over and I would be forced back to class. "I'll meet you outside the front of the school," Sebastian promised. I saw him smile before turning away from me. I walked back to class feeling exhausted, I must have been incredibly nervous whilst talking to him...

My last class of the day was Pre-Calculus. To my surprise, the boy I had sat next to in lunch was in that class too. I sat directly behind Sebastian, feeling uncomfortable. I didn't really pay much attention to the class, more worried over if the other male would say anything to me. At the end of class, Sebastian turned around and smiled. "You're still going to let me walk you home, right?" he asked. I nodded, sighing audibly and following him down the overcrowded hallways. It was a little chilly outside, but not bad. It actually felt nice on my skin. I hadn't been outside in so long, some sun wouldn't hurt. "You live near me. Just down the street from me, actually."

"Oh... That's good..." I was barely audible, a bit nervous about having to go home and suffer through another few hours of Jesus preach that evening.

"You're really quiet. Do you not like your foster parents?"

"They're alright... They just don't like me much. I don't really know why they adopted me. I'm a mess... Besides, they're extremely Christain. Like, Sunday is an all day church fest. I'm forced to go."

"I'm sorry... I think you're the most interesting mess I've ever seen. You should come over to my house sometime. It's just my mom and I, we're really cool and we're not Jesus freaks."

"I don't know, I usually just sleep. I'm tired all of the time..."

"I'll just have to wake you up then." Sebastian replied, his lips in a gentle smile. I snorted and rolled my eyes, walking up to the driveway of my place of residence.

"Yeah, sure... Thanks for, uh, walking me home..."

"You're welcome! I'll see you tomorrow, right?" His voice was all too enthusiastic. Sebastian actually looked happy, it was weird. I hadn't done anything. Were normal people really this affected by kindness? Maybe I was the weird one here. I nodded at Sebastian, feeling a bit anxious, before walking up to the garage and inputting the four letter code. Sebastian waved goodbye at me, and I shrugged in response, disappearing into the house I lived in. This place was far from a home. I was the only one inside the two story house, my foster parents were at work. I threw my backpack into my room and kicked off my shoes, settling down on my bed. I was too lazy to do Homework, I'd do it while my legal guardians were around so I had an excuse not to be around them. My eyelids eventually closed and I was asleep.

I was awoken by the shrill screaming of my foster mother, who rushed into my room and started yelling at me for some reason or the other. "Sorry..." I mumbled, earning myself a slap on the cheek. It stung, most likely leaving a red mark. She dragged me out of bed and practically pushed me down the stairs into the kitchen. My whole body was shaking, and I continued to shake as I heard my foster father enter the room.

"He didn't do any of his chores, he was just sleeping!" she screamed.

"Well then he'll just have to get punished then. Listen boy, we have rules in this household. You have to follow them. One of them is doing your share around the house. You better clean this god damn floor right now or I'll beat your ass." came the response from the man.

"I was only sleeping... I was at school..." I complained, earning myself another slap. I was pushed to the floor and kicked repeatedly in the stomach. I was used to this, I could handle this. I'd been through worse. Besdies, if I started crying, it would get worse. A kick to the chest sent me wheezing, my asthma kicking in and making it impossible to breathe.

"Go up to your fuckin' room. You can forget about dinner," my foster mother hissed. I stood up weakly, gasping for air. I just had to make it up the stairs to my inhaler, then I could lock the door and be safe. I sprinted up those stairs and into my bedroom, grabbing the white plastic object that would allow me to breathe again.

A few hours later, the woman entered my room with a plate of food, setting it on my desk. "You have church group Friday nights, Ciel. That means tomorrow you better be ready to share your thoughts with your fellow peers. I know you don't like it, but it's the best thing for you. You're learning about Jesus Christ," maybe if I ignored her she would leave, "I'm sure you'll make some friends and learn some important life lessons. We have an amazing church. Also, we expect you to take a girl to the school dance. How about Lizzie? She always sits by you at your youth church group... Think about it, Ciel." Anyone but her. She was so annoying and loud. Quite frankly, her voice hurt my ears. I let out a sigh, and with that my foster mother left. I would be confined to my room the entire night, but that wasn't a bad thing. They'd just end up drunk downstairs anyways. I picked at the small portion of pasta I was given, but most of it remained untouched as I laid down to rest. This night was going to be a long one.