• If my Heart Stops Beating
    Chapter 1
    Choir
    Ignoring the shouts and calls of insults following me down the hallway, I turned sharply to face the door to my sixth and last period of the day, choir. But, like always, a group of the popular senior girls was there.
    “Excuse me, please.” I murmured taking a step forward. They didn’t notice me, so I cleared my throat. “Excuse me!” They stopped and turned to look at me. “Can you let me through, please?”
    They stood there for a minute, trying to process what I had just said through their thick heads. I wasn’t surprised it was taking so long. All they knew was what was new in fashion, fame, boys and gossip.
    “Umm….yeah?” One with short, dark brown hair with pink streaks, and chocolate brown eyes and skin finally responded while wrapping a strand of hair around her right index finger and mindlessly chewing her gum. I pushed through the group and shoved open the door to the classroom, clenching my teeth as I heard them whispering comments, like ‘who was she?’ and ‘what’s up with her getup?’
    “Preps.” I muttered angrily under my breath as I crossed the room crowded with people just taking the class to talk, and not really doing it for music. Throwing my backpack on the ground, but not enough to draw eyes and make a scene, I stared out the window at a seagull flying by in the baby blue sky, and then disappearing into one of the light clouds.
    Boy do I wish I could be free.
    The bell ringing drew my attention back to my life, where I was not free. Where I was a prisoner.
    Grabbing my black choir binder, covered in All Time Low and Evanescence (A.N. i do not own these bands credit goes to owners) and some dark and Halloween stickers, I made my way through the kids rushing to get to their seats on the riser, and then sat down in my spot in the middle on the top row.
    “Hey!” Scarlet, my one year old and senior sister grinned at me as she sat in her spot on the right side of me.
    “Hi.” I sighed as I picked at one sticker of a black skull with a ripped up red bow. I looked up to see my sister frowning at me, her blue-ish gray eyes looking sad, and her beautiful head of bright red hair that usually looked like a hypnotic fire looking like it was damp and about to go out. “What?”
    “I just hate seeing you like this. I want you to be you again.” She leaned against the railing connected to the back of the risers. I glanced back to my binder, and absent mindlessly picking at the sticker again as I zoned out, staring back out that window where I’d seen the free seagull moments before.
    She was right. I hadn’t always been this way. There was a time where I’d actually been the happy, joyful, funny Char Evergreen. The one who loved life.
    But after the accident, I was depressing, angry, and troubled Charlotte Evergreen. The one who was lifeless, and hated to not be that way.
    Our choir teacher, Miss K, struggled to grab our attention. But she didn’t mind. Miss K is a cool teacher. The coolest around. She says crap and freakin’ and hell. She’s just nice and funny. Oh, and she’s an amazing singer. And it isn’t really that bad when you’re one of her favorite students.
    But it is bad when you abruptly change and she worries about you every second of every day. And that’s what she’s been doing to me ever since the incident.
    I refused to let myself think about it, though. Refused. Never said I succeeded.
    It haunts me every moment of my life.
    “OH I WANNA SING!!!!!!” The same senior girl who had responded to me at the doorway suddenly screeched. I looked away from the window and looked ahead to see people getting ready for Show-Off Friday.
    Show-Off Friday is an event that happens every Friday in choir. Like I said, Miss K is cool, so she lets us show off our talents on this certain day of the week. We can sing (like most people), rap, dance, or practically do anything else we want to.
    “Okay, Ashlee, you can sing.” Miss K laughed. But by looking at her face, I could tell that she was annoyed by this prep, just like I.
    There was cheering and wooing and clapping as ‘Ashlee’ walked up to the front of the class. She flashed a flirty smile at somebody that I was too lazy to look at, and then started belting out the lyrics to some Miley Cyrus song(A.N. i dnt own this chick or her songs either).
    Trying to be polite, I didn’t fling my hands up to my ears to stop the horrible sound, or scream in terror and pain.
    I hate Miley Cyrus. I think she’s a horrible singer. But compared to this Ashlee chick, Cyrus sounded like an Angel.
    But nobody seemed to mind. They all thought she was wonderful. One reason was probably because I bet she’s really popular, and the other that they have never heard or seen any real talent, so they are blinded and deafened.
    The rest of the acts of the day were the same.
    But, a couple minutes before the bell rang, a guy stood up and walked to the front to play and sing a song on the keyboard. He had perfect blond hair with brown highlights, deep dark brown eyes and slightly tanned skin. He was wearing a white shirt with a cool design and said Owl City(A.N. dnt own the band), blue jeans, black Vans and a green and white jacket.
    By his looks and the way the girls reacted, I guessed he was Keaton Hathaway, the supposedly hot, amazing and most popular senior guy everybody obsessed over. I also guessed that he was the one that Ashlee had given her flirty smile to.
    I prepared to run at the sound of the bell, but the sound of his fingers hitting the keyboard instantly made me freeze and turn towards him, and his voice put me in a trance.
    “I opened my eyes, last night, and saw you in the low light…” He softly sang the lyrics to The Saltwater Room by Owl City(A.N. dnt own song either). He even sounded better than Adam Young, who was Owl City.
    And his song The Saltwater Room used to be my favorite before my life turned around. I smiled and sang to it every time it came on, and when it didn’t come on by itself, I made it come on, non-stop, on my iPod(A.N. dnt own). I was obsessed.
    Hearing this guy playing and singing it like an angel, the ghost of a smile flickered onto my face as I remembered what my life used to be like. Nobody had ever been able to play that effect on me before. Yet, this guy that I did not know, just did it.
    “Time together isn’t ever quite enough…” I whisper sang the girl parts quietly as he kept performing, almost done with the song.
    “When you and I are alone, I’ve never felt so at home.” Keaton sang the boy parts, completely oblivious of me in the background.
    “What will it take to make or break this hint of love?”
    “Only time, only time.”
    “When we’re apart, whatever are you thinking of?”
    “If this is what they call home, why does it feel so alone?”
    “So tell me darling, do you wish we’d fall in love?”
    “All the time, all the time.”
    My daze was instantly broken at the sound of loud applause and screaming. Keaton grinned as he stood up and did a goofy bow. And then the bell rang.
    Shocked, I slowly stood up and then I felt a tug on my arm that led me over to my backpack, and I looked up to see Scarlet staring down at me, amazed, as I picked it up.
    “What?” I asked as we walked out of the door.
    “Did you see yourself? You were almost smiling! And singing along with the song! I’ve never seen you this happy in years!!!” She exclaimed, clearly happy. I simply shrugged.
    “Whatevs. Never gonna happen ‘gain anyway.” She frowned and then looked down at the buzzing of her phone. “Hello?”
    I watched her listen intensely and then she sighed. “Okay. I’ll be there right away.”
    “Be where?” She pushed the end button and shoved her phone in her pocket.
    “Work.”
    “What!?” I exclaimed. Scarlet works at the Orange Julius(A.N. do not ownnn!!) at the local mall, but she always got Fridays off.
    “I’m sorry, hon. Boss’s orders.”
    “But what am I supposed to do!? Show up alone!!?! You know what they will do to me.” A heavy concern and worry filled her sparkling eyes. I sighed. “Bye.”
    “See ya.” She muttered as she turned and made her way to her white convertible. Crap. That’s when I realized that I had also ridden with her this morning, and I didn’t have a ride.
    It was only going to get worse from here.