The Robbery That Changed My Life

"Mom, do I really have to go to that crappy new school? What about my friends, my - my school? My whole LIFE is here." I said, as I packed the rest of my bags into our car.
"Oh, girl. You'll have an amazing life in Odessa, I know it. It's..quiet, and Garsbury High is a great school!"
"Like you'd know, you didn't go there.But, I guess any school would be better than stupid Stoneridge."
I hopped into the front seat, put on my seatbelt, then got out the headphones for my iPod. All I could think about, from that moment on, was what the people at Garsbury were like. Were they geeks and nerdy kids, rich and beautiful, or something in the middle?
"Oh, honey. I'm sorry we have to move, I really am. It's just that.. this town, and the people here, they all remind me too much of your father. I just think it's in our best interest to try and get a new, fresh start. You understand, don't you?"
I glanced up at the picture-perfect sky, and the beautiful fall trees.
"I know, mom. It's just going to take some getting used to."
I couldn't help but think about that cold, thursday night. My mother, father, and I were all sitting at home, deciding on whether we should order Chinese food, or pizza.
I turned on the tv, and before I knew it, two muscular men wearing ski masks had burst into our home, and had robbed us. My dad had tried to sneak his cell phone out of his pocket, but one of the robbers had shot him.
On the stand, he said he only meant to use the gun to scare us, but he pulled the trigger by accident. I could tell by the look in his eyes when he pulled it, that he was scared: scared for us and our safety, scared by the fact that he had just become a killer, scared of what might happen to him. I missed my father, and I would give anything to go back to that moment when we were a loving family just trying to enjoy our quality time.
But my mom was right. This town does remind us both too much of that night. Every time I walk into the living room, I can't help but notice the huge blood stain, the blood that came from my father. The sound of the gunshot still remains in my head. We needed a new start, a new environment. A part of me was excited to start my new life in Odessa, but another part was sad to be leaving my hometown, and the house that I grew up in. The house that I grew up in, with my father.
A few hours later, we passed the sign that said " Welcome to Odessa " in big, navy, italic letters. It was a beautiful town. The tree's were the perfect shade of yellow and orange. The houses were all made of stone, with pretty flowers and tiny rocks creating pathways up to the doorsteps. Children and Teenagers were doing jump-rope, shooting hoops, and just sitting around on the grass talking. Something I could have been doing in my old town of Kingston with my friends.
"Here we are! Oh, Bridget. Isn't it beautiful?" Mom said, smiling, as we turned the corner and pulled into the driveway of our new bungalow home. She was right, it was beautiful! The grass was pure green, and beautifully cut. The windows were crystal clear, with not so much as a smudge on them. The stone on the outside walls looked as if it was brand-new and had just been placed on. It was truly a pretty sight. I looked behind me, and the "Frank the mover" truck had pulled up to the curb. Two extremely handsome men had stepped out, and began unloading boxes and furniture.
As I walked into the house, mom was outside trying to get organized.
"Put those boxes in the kitchen, those ones in the master bedroom.. and um, those will go in the family room, and..."
I walked into my new house. It was just as beautiful as the outside. The floors were covered with brand-new, shiny hardwood, and on the walls was a beautiful shade of Garnet.I turned into the family room, and walked through the adjoining doors to the kitchen. The cupboards had been painted dark brown, which went perfectly with the stainless steel appliances.
Into the hallway and into another room I went: my bedroom! It was perfect for me. Two of the walls were painted lime green, and the other 2 were painted fuchsia. The walk-in closet made the room look even better. One of the men had brought a bunch of boxes up for me, and I started to unpack them. Up on the walls went my posters of Highschool Musical, Zac Efron, Avril Lavigne, Chris Brown, and Ryan Sheckler. On the back of my door, right across the room from my bed, was the collage that my friends had made for me the day before I left Kingston. It was the perfect place for it. I could look at it every night before I went to bed, and again when I woke up.
The next day, I woke up from one of the best sleeps I've had lately, and I headed for the dresser. It was my first day at Garsbury and I needed to make a good impression. I put on my outfit and walked infront of the mirror. My white shorts looked great on my tanned legs, and the green tanktop, brought out the blue in my eyes. I sat down, and brushed my long, dark brown, wavy hair. I was sure that my first day would be as smooth as melted butter! But, little did I know...

Part 2

I arrived at the parking lot to Garsbury High, and watched other students get out of their cars in the happiest moods ever. "Don't worry, Bridget. Everything will be fine, you'll see!" Mom comforted me. I got out of our silver honda, more nervous than I have ever been. Garsbury was an attractive school. It looked brand new, even though it was probably built about 65 years ago. I waved goodbye, and headed for the front doors. When I started walking down the hallway, a staff member greeted me
"Hi, welcome to Garsbury. Do you need any help finding your locker or classes?" She said.
"It's okay, I came here the other day to get my time-table and a Student council member showed me around. But thanks!" I smiled.
"Alrighty then, oh by the way, I'm Ms.McKenna, the school principal." she said.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Bridget!" I replied with a smile. We shook hands and walked away.
As I walked further down the crowded hallway, I noticed another girl was standing at my locker.
She looked at me, and smiled.
" Hey, I'm Brittany. I guess you're my new locker partner?" She asked. She brushed back her long, wavy, brown hair out of her face before swinging it up into a messy bun.
"Apparently!" I responded.
"Awesome, you seem like a nice girl. We should have lunch together today and get to know eachother! Maybe we have classes together too?"
She then looked down at the timetable I was holding.
"Oh, sweet! We have 1st and 3rd period together! That'll be fun. I'll walk with you."
"Thanks, I'd like that." I smiled.
Val was such a nice girl. She was a tall girl, with the body of a model. I bet the other girls at Garsbury would die to look like her.
We closed the locker, and began heading towards our homeroom class. As we walked by the different cliques, Val told me which groups I should hang with, and which ones I should steer clear of.
"Never hang with the gothics, or the emo's. They are very persuasive. I had a friend who was friends with one of them, but once she joined their clique, she totally ditched all of our other friends, and now she's like, their group leader. Those girls are what we call the Socialites. They're the most popular girls in school. I'm friends with all of them, which is like, an honor, but sometimes I don't want anything to do with them. They can be really bossy and obnoxious, and they always have to get their way. The socialites always get the hottest guys, some of which don't even like them, they're just scared of what will happen to their rep' if they don't date them. The lower status girls consider it an honor to be friends with the Socialites, because they give you the best rep's, invite you to the best parties, get you the hottest boyfriends and dates, etc."
"Wow, this school sounds so.. stereotypical. Like that movie, oh what was it called.. Mean girls!" I said as she laughed.
"Yeah, I guess it is kind of like that. But, just do me a favor and try not to get caught up in it. Befriend the normal people, the people who don't have a certain clique, like me. The ones with cliques, only hang with their cliques, and they do bad things when they see you with other people from other groups. Trust me, I'd know."
We walked into the homeroom class: Mr.Magee's english class. There were two empty seats in the back row of the class, so Brittany and I took them. Being the nice girl she is, she introduced me to a few people the second I sat down. To my left was Kacey, infront of her was Brennan, infront of me was Spencer, beside him was Kyle, and behind me was Cherry.They all gave me dirty looks, except for Spencer and Kacey.
"Ew, who is this girl?" said Cherry.
"Um, are you a Socialite?" she asked, but she knew the answer to that question.
"No, why?"
"Only the Socialites, like me, look like that. Your hair, your clothes, that perfume, all the fancy jewelery. I suggest you tone it down a little bit, because you are clearly not a socialite. People will just classify you as a wanna-be, which is.. just what you are."
Said Cherry, with a disgusted look on her face. I remembered what Brittany said about the stereotypical people, and just ignored her.
"Cherry, shut up. Maybe she is from a rich town full of people who happen to dress like the Socialites. Be a little more polite, okay? She's new." Brittany argued.
The two girls gave dirty looks back and forth, until Mr.Magee walked in. He dressed as if he was one of us. With his adidas sports bag, black reebok sweat pants, and a green polo shirt. If I didn't know he was a teacher, I would of thought he was the dad of one of the Socialites. He walked up to the side of the classroom and began writing an assignment on the board.
"So, class, before we get started, I'd like you all to welcome our new student to the class, Bridget Thompson."
"Oh, she's welcomed all right." whispered Cherry.
"All right, now for your new assignment, as a follow up for To Kill a Mockingbird, I'd like you all to do an assignment of a crime of some sort. Since the one used in the novel was Rape, you could do that one. Or, perhaps something else you know a lot about. Maybe something you've read about in the newspaper lately, witnessed, or even experienced yourself. This will be due next Tuesday, so that gives you 8 days to write it. You may do it in any form you like, and have it as long as you like, but make it creative. Use a good title, too. "Rape is wrong." would not be a good example. Let's say... make it a minimum of 250 words."
I already had a great idea popping up in my head: the robbery that killed my father. Sure, that would be a little.. personal and emotional, but my mom always told me to never keep things bottled up inside. Mr.Magee said he wanted creative, well he is getting creative!

Part 3.
The bell rang and it was time to go to my second period class.
Brittany looked at my timetable once again.
"You lucky girl, you have Art with McDermott!" She said.
"Need any help finding it?"
"No, that's okay. I came here a few days ago, I know where my classes are, but thanks!"
I walked down the hallway and entered the first class on the right, my art class.
It was probably the most " clique-y " class I have been in. In the back row, were the gothics, drawing weird things on the desks, and themselves. Infront of them was the jocks. Guys were smashing their pop cans on the side of their head, trying to crush them, and then giving eachother a Fist-pump if they succeeded. Infront of the jocks, in the very front row, were the preppy girls, putting more make-up on and brushing their hair, as if their looks are so important.
I sat down beside one of the girls.
"Um, excuse me, this seat's taken." The girl responded.
"Oh, sorry. I'm new here I didn't--"
"Don't care." She shot back.
She was obviously a Socialite.
As I got up and sat down beside a jock, I noticed another girl took my seat. It was Cherry.
"Alright Class, please get out your art Portfolios and work on your Self-portrait sketches. Oh, and we have a new student with us today, Bridget Thompson. Welcome Bridget!" said Mr.McDermott, smiling.
Cherry looked back at me.
"Oh, great. Another class with YOU? Could my life get any worse? Geez."
Before I could respond, I hear another voice.
"Cherry, what is your problem?! You're not Top-Dog here, not even close, so don't pick on people who maybe aren't as social as you, and especially the new kids. She is just trying to fit in, like you did when you first moved here last year. So shut up and turn around." said Kacey, who sat beside me in English. She pulled up a chair beside my desk and started chatting with me.
Cherry's jaw dropped, as if she was shocked that someone was talking to her in that tone. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned around.
"Thanks for sticking up for me."
"Oh it's not a problem. CHERRY here doesn't understand that she was in your position a year ago, and people made fun of her too, so why would she want to do that to someone else? Oh yeah, because she wants to be a bitchy Socialite."
While she worked on her self-portrait, I began to jot down notes on a piece of paper, on ideas for my English essay.
By the end of class, I had a full page of ideas and notes. I couldn't wait to get home and start writing it!
I heard two bells go off, which meant that it was lunchtime.
I walked down the hall, which got crowded fast, and headed to my locker, where I met up with Brittany.
" Hey Brittany, ready for lunch?"
She laughed."Yeah! But you can just call me Britt."
"Okay. So where are we going?"
"How about..the Palace? They make the best pizza! It's always fresh and perfectly cheesy!"
"Ok sounds good!"
Before I knew it, lunch was over, and Britt and I were heading to 3rd period, our Science class.

Part 4.
.. not finished*