normal

/ˈnɔːm(ə)l/

adjective

conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.

"Good morning, pretty, breakfast is ready, and you're off to your new school. Are you looking forward to it?" I groan and pull the covers over my head; I couldn't sleep the night before because I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I had cancer. It was impossible for me to stop thinking about it, but I promised myself that I would stop worrying and that I would act normally because my parents were terrified.

Was it, however, beneficial to me? I pretended to be feeling something, but it felt as if the darkness was pulling me back to bed, telling me to close my eyes and forget about everything. I think I just needed someone other than Belle or my parents in whom I could put my trust. My parents advised that if I ever felt trapped, I should seek help from a therapist, but was it enough?

I rarely trust people, I never trust people other than my small circle. Gosh, the amount of times I try but I could never accomplish it. "Are you sleeping?" My mum asked from besides me. She pulls up the curtains allowing the morning light to soothe me into waking. I hated the light, I guess my moody self in the morning was not a good sight for me.

"No, I'm practicing for my funeral." I joked.

"Don't say that, Amira please don't say that." My mum cranked, I removed the covers and saw the tears slowly fall from her eyes. She immediately wiped it off and left the room after kissing me on the forehead.

I raced my fingers through my hair, wondering why, now that I've been diagnosed with cancer, everyone takes everything I say so seriously. I understand that cancer is not a laughing matter, but it feels like it would be the only way to get me through it. Perhaps if I didn't think about it as much, it wouldn't bother me as much as it does now. I put on a pair of joggers, a Nike sweatshirt, and my black favourite beanie.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder I stroll out of the room; I walk past the kitchen leaving my parents and five other older siblings. "Amira, where are you going?" I hear my older brother Jacob say loudly, I slam the door shut and plug in my headphones.

My new school was a long walk away, okay, I exaggerated, it was only thirty minutes away. When I first arrive, I see thousands of people roaming around the new campus, some in heels and short skirts, others in cheerleading uniforms and high ponies. I looked down and realised I resembled a tramp. I was never one to blend in; in fact, I never fit in anywhere. I'm not sure why I had to transfer schools.

I hear my mother's voice rumbling in my head, jarring me out of my thoughts, 'Because they have specific treatment for medical concerns here.' I keep walking around campus, looking for the reception desk so I can receive my schedule. I stroll through the soccer field, shrugging my shoulders, attempting to make my way to reception when something hits me square in the stomach, causing me to stagger back a few hundred kilometres.

My head rested on the floor as I let out a small groan of pain, "oh shit Zeke, you knocked her out."

"She's still alive right? Because I'm not paying insurance for anything right now."

"I mean, come have a look." As the sun streaks into my eyes, I open my eyes and raise myself up from the ground onto my elbows. Before six or more enormous males overshadow me, my gut aches with discomfort.

"Are you good hot stuff?" I hear someone say.

"Do you not know how to fucking catch?" I pushed myself up from the ground, whispering. My backpack is thrown over my shoulders, and my blue eyes lock with his.

It was the dude who ate my Hershey. I pull down the beanie and walk away instead of engaging in any kind of dialogue right now.

His eyebrow lifts as if he's trying to remember who I am.

"She's the only girl I see wearing baggy clothes. In this school...do you thin-"

"Who is she?"

"She's clearly new, now stop getting distracted from that goth and let's practice."

After more than thirty minutes or so, I finally asked some people to direct me to the reception and as they did, they showed me around the rest of the campus. Thanking them I walk inside, the double doors which then allowed me to see a security check. "You must be Amira, hello! Your mother told me about your health and I just-"

"Please don't, I don't need reminding that I have cancer. If you could please hand me my timetable, I'm going to be late for class." She hands me a sheet with my empty lessons, I thank her lightly and apologies for being open mouthed earlier. She handed me keys for my locker and showed me to my first class.

"Are you excited?" Laura asked.

"Very." I sarcastically whisper.

She knocked on the door; I hear the teacher say "to come on in". The receptionist whom I've known to be called Laura smiled at me warmly telling me to go inside. I pulled down the handle and saw the entire classes eyes on me without a second.

"Ahh, the new student. You must be Amira, come on in." I walk inside shutting the door behind me, one of my hands held my phone wrapped with my headphones whilst the other held the timetable I still yet to shove in my pockets.

"Take a seat in the back, I was just talking about the group projects..." I hear whispers of the cheer leaders talking about me, others didn't care whilst others made fun out my clothes. I walk towards the back and sit near the window seat plugging my head phones in.

"You'd be in charge of the group project-" I look up to see the dude from earlier in the soccer team (not the man who stole my Hershey) head locking a blonde guy while his hands ruffle his hair as the door slammed shut and I hear chuckles and laughter. Then two more men entered. "Detentions for both of you. Sit in the back and be as quiet as possible."

"I'm not even surprised you're late." She muttered, the guys begin walking towards me and I see a blonde guy raising his eyebrows at me. "Get out my seat freak." I decided to ignore them before I feel myself being chucked out of my seat and onto the floor. "I said get out of my seat." He looked down at me, I hear the class chuck into a fit of laughter as the teacher told them of.

"Andrew settle down, Marissa take that gum out of your mouth now!"

I rise from my seat and wipe the dust from my clothes before getting my purse and exiting the classroom. "Amira, come back—" I close the door and step into the hallway, tears welling up in my eyes. Suddenly, I collide with a rock-hard body, causing me to stumble back somewhat.

I looked up and noticed his blue eyes staring into my honey brown ones. "Are you crying?"

"No, I was cutting onions." I said wiping the tears I hadn't know that left my eyes.

"In a class room?" That's when I realized how stupid my excuse was, I hear him let out a soft chuckle, I notice the dense in his cheeks. The small dimple formed there. His hands buried deep into his pockets. "I saw you in the hospital the other week, right? That was you?"

"Small world."

"What lesson do you have first?"

"English lit, the lesson I ran out from. Shakespeare really can be a bitch." I answered shrugging my shoulders, he nods his head looking ahead of him. I turned around to see what he was looking at but instead there was no one there. I hear him sigh in relief.

"What's your name once more? I've never seen you here before, so you must be new." I notice him lounging against the lockers; he doesn't appear to be the kind to be friendly or engage in meaningful discussion.

I was afraid he'd assault me because I was two metres too close to him. I could tell he was frightening because of the tattoos on his neck.

He looked to be my age or older, and he had more tattoos than anyone I'd ever seen. My finger wanted to reach out and trace the outline of each artwork. But I knew I had to keep my cool.

I didn't want to be known as the strange new girl who wore all black and touched a guys throat. I did wonder, however, where the tattoos ended. His eyes themselves spoke a narrative, and I was aware of it. As I previously stated, I can read people like an open book, but his book was tightly shut. I didn't like the piercing on his lips, but he did a great job with it. Was he a model or something? He most likely was, and I could take a photo without his knowing if it was good.

"My name is Amira." I whispered, breaking the hundred thought that erupted in my mind about one tattoo I have noticed, it was a lotus flower on the side of his neck.

"Cool, the name is-"

"EZEKIEL MORETTI!"

"What he just said, goodbye princess." Before he left, he looked me up and down and turned away with a slight smirk formed.

"Don't call me that. I have a name."

The day stretched on far too long for my liking, owing to Belle's absence from my lessons and school. Didn't my parents have to relocate me now? I take off my hood and fix my headphones so they don't slip out of my ears. I'm listening to Cigarettes After Sex's 'Apocalypse.' My hair is pulled back into a sloppy bun and tucked beneath my hat.

My feet follow me all the way to Belle's house, and I gaze up at her door and exhale, knowing we're about to have a serious discussion. As it opens, I lightly knock on it, and my body is consumed by another. I encircle her with my arms and shuffle my head into the nape of her neck.

I never knew how much I needed a hug until now, I hear her take a deep breath in not releasing me. Then all of a sudden, I started crying, the tears fell like a waterfall as she held me. I didn't notice I lost my balance as we both fell to the door on the front porch of her house. "It's okay baby girl, it's okay..." She whispers.

I didn't reply yet she didn't care for an answer, she just held me. "I'm scared, Belle I'm not ready...I'm not strong no matter how many people say I am. I'm just scared...I'm really, really scared." I whispered, she never answered.

"It's okay to be scared...it's okay...be scared Amira...but don't be scared alone okay...I'm right here whenever you need me." I looked up at her and gave her a small smile as she wiped away my tears. She kisses my forehead and we stand up from the floor, her arms wrapped around my arm.

"I'm always here for you."

And second chapter, if there is grammar or spelling mistakes don't mind me. I will correct then when I edit the book.

Did you vote yet? I don't mind waiting.

I still see you vote button untouched, come on....I have all the time in the world.

And....you still didn't do It. Great well, thanks for reading anyways..