Your long dirty blonde hair slowly swayed in the breeze. Your black dress stuck to your body as if it was held there by glue. Your hand stayed still on as a bouquet of roses was placed in your hands. Today was the day you were getting buried. It was the punishment of the crime you have committed; punishable by death. What could have happened? What was so special about him? Why was he so special to you? Why couldn't you just let go?

Why couldn't you?

A few years prior to your death you were in your freshman year of highschool. You were a very shy person and didn't really talk to anyone and you prefer it that way. You always wore light pink, mid-thigh dresses and your hair always pulled up in a tight ponytail in the center of your head. You were always the straight A student, but that all changed when he transferred to your class. Grades started dropping, the ponytail left your head and the dresses were replaced with jeans.

You left your home the morning in mid April, swinging your bag over your shoulder and beginning the long walk to school. You didn't have anyone to drive you to school since no one in the family owned a vehicle, which didn't really bother you since you could get your exercise in for the day when you walk to and from school. Your shoulder length hair swayed gently in the wind in the tight ponytail it was in. Reaching up, you moved your fingers to curl around the hair strand that came loose from the ponytail and pushed it behind your ear. Repeating the process with the other side, you then dropped your hand back down to your side and looked at the sky as you walked, smiling softly at the blue color and how soft the clouds looked from the ground.

Suddenly running into something, you fell down onto the hard concrete. Your hands landed at either side of your body behind you, propping yourself up before touching the ground and scrapping anymore of your body. Your hands bled slightly and stung a little. You shook your head slightly, trying not to let a single tear roll down your pale face. You finally looked up to see what you bumped into and that thing alone could make you cry more. He was a tall, white haired boy that was wearing the same uniform as me. Our uniform included a dark blue top and a dark blue and black plaid skirt or slacks for the men.

His white hair stood out the most to you. It wasn't often you saw a person with white hair that was the same age or maybe a little older than you. It was probably bleached. His ocean blue eyes stared at your fallen form, which was still currently on the sidewalk. He didn't offer a hand and just let a small 'tch' escape through his teeth. He turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you to get off the sidewalk yourself. It was your fault that you were staring up at the sky instead of where you were going so it makes sense that he didn't bother to help you up, but most gentlemen would have helped.

A growl left your mouth as you pushed your bleeding palms off the ground and stood up. You would have wiped the dust off your uniform but that would have caused the blood spilling from the scrape on your hand to smear on the clothes. You bent over and grabbed your backpack from off the sidewalk, tossing the straps over your shoulders and continued walking the way to school, making sure that you were paying attention to what was in front of you; There was no need to jump into anyone else.

Finally reaching the front entrance of the Academy, you made your way into the building. Often enough, you tended to stay quiet in school. Not many people knew you and you planned to keep it that way.

Speaking of not knowing, who was that boy earlier? He had the same uniform on, but why couldn't you remember him. Was he older and had the upperclassman classes? You shook the thought out of your head and went to your classroom. Thinking about someone who was rude and didn't care about the well being of others didn't deserve to stay inside of your head.

A sigh escaped your lips as you held your head up with your arm upon sitting down at your desk. The bell for the beginning of school to begin made this action happen. You did not mind school but the long hours and nothing to do but listen makes it very hard to enjoy.

Your [E/C] orbs watched the teacher step into the room, setting down their notes and looking up at everyone. "Good morning, class." She spoke loud and firm.

"Good Morning, Teacher" The class said in unison

"We have a new transfer student today. Please make sure that you guys make him feel welcomed." On that cue, the door to the classroom slid open and your eyes widened. The white boy from earlier slowly stepped through the door. His ice blue eyes almost immediately catching your stare. He was your new classmate?