Chapter 1

The last day of Junior year is finally here, the day I have been looking forward to since the first day. My parents never really seem to bother coming home during the summer, they never really bother to do anything when the heat of the sun is bearing down on the town. The heat from the sun always gave me a feeling of relief, knowing that I will have two months of just working and living always makes me feel better. Not having to endure the abuse or the pain my parents, just being able to live a life of not hiding from the world, being able to just be me.

The day was the same, the same teasing, the same boring classes, and the same stares as I walk down the hall to my last class of the day. I sat at the same desk as I have been all year, the scratches on the wooden top shows everything that has happened at this desk. The wooden floors planks creake as each student walked into the classroom, showing how worn the school has become. The walls are white cracked brick, being covered by motivational posters, and classroom rules. No matter how many times I walk the halls the squeaking of doors being opened and shut always catch my attention. The way the lockers don't open on the first try, always the second will always be annoying to every student. The way that the windows in each doorway are blacked out, always getting me a little anxious, knowing the reason of the blacked out windows. The bell is my only savior from this place, the sound that I am free, that I can go home and no longer have to live in this hell, finally able to be alone, I hope anyway.

I sit in my last class and wait for the bell to ring, not paying attention to anyone, never hearing a word anyone says. When the bell rang I still sat waiting for everyone to be gone before leaving myself, leaving any hope for Carley to see me walking home, to see me at all. As I left the class heaving my bag over my shoulder and putting the hood up on my sweatshirt, I walk out of the building and I hear the voice of Carley Brosheir. "Did you hear? No guy would even want to kiss her, scared that her pale white skin might turn them into zombies."

"No way! You would think that she would be the easiest slut in school, obviously always wanting attention." I recognize that voice to, Stacy Carn, Carley's best friend, almost inseparable from each other.

"I bet that's why her parents are never home, and when they are I bet they beat her. Who would want such a white bitch for a daughter anyway, she might as well be transparent."

Walk faster I tell myself, all I have to do is get home, I can be safe behind the door, behind the walls. "Oh isn't it casper already. A little early for Halloween don't you think?" Carley says through the smirk planted on her lips.

I keep walking, never saying anything, and I never look up.

"What not even a nod? C'mon you don't have to be such a nasty bitch all the time. Why don't you just go home and end it already. No one likes you, no one even talks to you. You might as well just end it before it gets worse. If you need an idea on how to do it, don't be afraid to ask."

With that I put my head down and walk, I feel the heat of tears running down my cheeks. I remember her always saying something to me since elementary school, but never did I think she would tell me to kill myself. Maybe she is right, maybe I have nothing to live for, it would just be easier on everyone if I wasn't here anymore. As I push open the heavy black door I breakdown before I can even shut the door, losing everything that I have been holding in. I cradle my body as I lay on the cold hardwood floor, trying to calm down, trying to get myself together but I can't. As the tears stream down my face and begin to puddle on the floor, I hear a noise on the outside of my door, the shock of something happening outside makes the tears stop, the fear of it being my parents makes me freeze in place.

A knock on the door releases the fear, no I feel is wonder. I wipe the tears off my face, and slowly lift my body off the floor, another knock at the door. I can't remember a time when someone knocked on the door, the sound is almost new to my ears. The soft hit of the door is new, I slowly walked to the door, I move the old red curtains that cover the window beside the door, only enough so I could see who was there. A guy around my age is standing there, he is wearing a black suit holding a briefcase. I get a closer look and I notice how his hair is blonde and holds as it is, it looks messy but almost done to purposely look like that, his muscles show through his suit, and his skin was tan, the tan that I wish I could have. I walked closer to the door, I look at the floor and opens the door so only a crack is showing.

Moving my eyes up I realize how tall he really is, he doesn't go to school here, he would probably be the new Jim, and probably under Carley's thumb. I continue to look and I notice the soft look of his skin, wondering how it might feel to touch the softness. His black suit hides nothing, you can see how muscular he is, and as I move further up I notice how perfect his mouth looks, how defined his face is. Even further up I see his beautiful blue eyes, unlike mine that are vibrant green, the only thing about myself that I can't hate, but something that I choose to hide.

I meet his eyes and he smiles at me, he starts talking but I don't hear anything coming out of his mouth. Then the realization that I'm staring takes over and suddenly I feel heat rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. I quickly look back down, immediately regretting it, I see my baggy sweatshirt and baggy jeans that continue to hang loosely over my body, my hair is a mess from laying on the ground for so long, and I know that the paleness in my skin shows the blushing more than I would enjoy. He starts talking again, "Hi, you're Lillian Lenn right?"

"Umm, yes that's me." I quietly reply.

"Good, my name is Nicholas Ross. So there is no way I can really ease you into this but I am a Regna, I help individuals who need more help then support. I make wishes come true to help shape you into the person you were meant to be." He states calmly, a smirk planted on his face. He then opens his briefcase and takes out a folder. My eyes followed the folder as he opened it, on the top of the folder it said my name, and my confusion grew.

"So what you're saying is that I am so helpless that no amount of support will help me?" Obvious annoyance is in my voice as I say this.

"No, that is not what I am saying, I'm saying that I am able to help you with your wish, to help you become the person you are meant to be." As he says this he hands over the folder. "May I come in Ms. Lenn"

Through the crack of the door I grab the folder, and think about letting this strange man in. I stood there just look at the folder for what seemed forever, I realized that I had to know more, I had to know why this Regna or whatever he said decided to come here. I open the door fully and let Nicholas in my house. I shut the door behind him and notice how clean my house looked, being an obvious sign that my parents have not been home in many months. He walks in with his head held high, showing nothing but pride in himself, almost like he has never gotten into a house before. "I love the place, I thought I was going to walk into a mess." Nicholas states with no emotion.

"Umm okay, hey how do you know so much about me." I say looking directly at him as he turns around to face me.

"Well as a Regna it's my job to know everything there is about the people I am supposed to help." Looking directly in my eyes, he never broke eye contact. He seemed that he truly cared about me, or he was just trying to get me to believe it.

I open the folder and I notice it is a folder that is all about me, from how I grew up, to even how I have lived alone for most of my life. In this folder it had every abusive interaction that I have ever had. Confused I just look at him, and I wait for him to explain the folder that I hold in my hand.

"Oh yea I forgot to explain that, so in that folder it is all about you, everything that you have ever wanted to everything that has ever happened to you. I know it seems crazy and unbelievable but it's true. I am here for you, and only you." As he says this he walks closer to me, almost to close.

I can't believe anything anymore. Some guy is here in my house to grant my wish, a wish that I have been begging for, but how do I know that this is real. For all I know this could all be a dream, I could have fallen asleep on the floor over exhaustion from crying, this is not real. Startling me he looks me in the eye and with what was either real or fake empathy, I wish I could tell, he says "You debating if this is real? Yeah happens all the time, well this is real and we do have a lot to discuss about you and your life."

Well if this is dream might as well go along with it. "Okay, what all do you want to know, you already have a folder on my life, and everything that has happened in it."

"Well what I really need to know is how your life has affected you, how it has shaped you into this person standing here today. Oh and I need to know your wishes, or your desires in order to make them a reality."

I have been wishing to be different for as long as I can remember I wonder why it wasn't in this folder of my life, that one wish has taken over my life, why would it not be in a folder about my life. Unable to stop myself I ask, "so why is my desire or wish not in the folder?"

"That would be because you have never said it out loud in the past 17 years. All that is in that folder is physical things that has happened or words that have been said about you or what you have said, and you don't really talk much. I understand why. I have been trying to get you at the top of the list for months before your breaking point, but no 'she has to go through the breaking point first.' my boss really is a rule follower." He says slowly getting angrier when he talks about his boss, maybe Nicholas really cares about me, or at least people like me.

Wait in the past 17 years of hell, I have never said the one thing that I want most in this world, the one thing I have dreamt about, and spent most of my time thinking about. "Ok, I will go along, you ask your questions and I'll give you the answers, but I get to ask questions too, we can go back and forth."

"Seems good to me, let's have a seat, maybe this will go by a little faster if we do that." he smiles at me, I lead him to the one couch we had. Before he sat down he unbuttoned his jacket, and we both sat there until he started to ask me questions.

He sat up straight and began to ask his first question. "What do you prefer to be called, Lillian, Lilly, Ms. Lenn, or even L?"

"Just call me Elle, my grandmother would call me that before she died, the only thing I can remember about her. What about you, what is your prefered name?"

"Nic, always wanted someone to call me that, sounds pretty cool if I say so myself. Why do you cover your face with your hair?"

With some resistance I decide to answer, " I do that because if they can't see my face they won't find something new to make fun of me for. Why did you choose me?"

"Well, ummm...." Nic starts to look distraught and nervous. "You seemed like you really needed someone to be in your life, and I don't really choose, I am just uh, given a folder, and then I do my job."

I notice how nervous he got when answering my question, from the time we met he has been calm and seemed proud of himself. "Would you like anything to drink?"

The relief is visible as it covers him, and he then regains his pride, "Wasn't it my turn to ask the question?"

Unable to keep back a girlish giggle, "Yes, and now it's my turn. Want anything to drink?"

With a soft chuckle from him he answers, "Yeah that would be great, thank you."

I move my way to the kitchen, no hallway or doorway covers the kitchen, it is an open kitchen, not supposed to be. Suddenly I remember how the wall and doorway came down. I was 12 at the time and one night my dad came home really drunk, no more than usual but he was more angry than any night before. He grabbed any object he could and through them at the wall, after all night of just throwing things the wall eventually came down. I was hiding under my bed, waiting for it to be over. When the sound of the door slamming shut got my true attention, the sounds stopped, there was nothing in the house except me. I walked out of my room to find the wall laying on the floor, holes were everywhere, broken bottles, even broken furniture from a table we once had.

The memories make me shudder, I wish I could forget, as the thought crosses my mind I remember why I walked into the kitchen in the first place. I reach in the cabinet and grabbed one of the three cups that we own, I open the fridge and get the bottle of orange juice that I bought three days ago and fill the cup half way. I walked back to the couch and gave Nic the cup of juice. We make eye contact and he has no smile is shown on his lips. He says, " No my turn for the question, why do you let them treat you like that, making you cry, making you feel the way you do?"

With no hesitation, I know the answer, "because what happens if I do? They won't stop, it would just get worse, no matter what I do it won't stop, only a year left and then it will be over. Why do you care so much on why I do the things I do?"

His beautiful blue eyes grew wide and he looks down, wait did I just call his eyes beautiful. Wow I need to get my head 

straight. "Well it's uh, my job to care."

Apart of me knew that he was lying, I wanted to know the truth but I knew that he wasn't going to tell me no matter how long I begged him, or even annoyed him, he would keep that to himself. He then begins his next question, "Is this the life you want for yourself? A life where you work from home, yeah you get paid good money, but I mean all the hiding from everything."

"No, this is not the life I want for myself. I want a life that I can be proud of, one that I can show my face, one where I don't feel the need to hide for everything." I put my head down, almost ashamed of myself.

He puts his hand on my thigh and with one sentence, only six words that made me have hope, even happiness. "I can make that a reality."