A/N Something started for the Elsanna sleepover. I'll be writing this along side Black Snow and hoping to update them both at least once a week. Enjoy!

"How was school?"

The question I hated. Yet it was the question I constantly received at the dinner table. A constant reminder of how terrible my life at school actually was.

Every school has that one kid that everyone makes fun of right? It's never for anything in particular, just the fact that there's one or two things that people don't like, yet it's enough for just about the whole school to be an ass to them? Our school has a kid like that. Her name is Elsa, Elsa Kingston. She's a blonde, glasses wearing, high achiever in all her classes, well, apart from P.E. She doesn't talk much, doesn't have any friends and spends the majority of her lunches in the library; even though the librarian doesn't like her eating her lunch in there. Course having no friends makes her a laughing stock, and being a laughing stock makes it hard for her to make friends.

Oh, I should probably also tell you, Elsa Kingston is me.


I always say the same answer. Despite it always being a lie, I would never say anything different. I'd prefer to push the thoughts of it to the back of my mind rather than reminisce in the day's events. Today's were having screwed up bits of paper thrown at my head in French class, having my bag stolen for half an hour in English, my equipment broken in Science followed by P.E where I really couldn't do the dodge part of Dodge ball.

My father tilted his head, forcing another fork full of peas into his mouth. Once he had finished his mouthful, he continued to try and get an answer out of me.

"Come on, Snowflake. You give me that answer every day! Surely something interesting happened today?"

Well, someone did draw a rather crude image inside my draft book. Don't know if that classes as interesting though.

I started to cut up my lamb chop; perhaps if I showed concentration in doing this, or just in eating my meal, he'd stop asking. But I'd get no such luck. He had finished his meal, neatly placing his knife and fork side by side on the plate ready for taking away. Placing his joint hands on the table, he leaned forward toward me, waiting for my answer.

Well, if I have to.

I finally shrugged my shoulders whilst half way through chewing a piece of lamb, finally swallowing to speak.

"What's there to say? I go to school, I come home, that's it."

"So you didn't hang out with your friends today?" Haha, what friends? The only person I know in that school that doesn't treat me like a freak is my cousin, Hans. And even he was beginning to become a bit of an ass. There were some names I mentioned, but only when I told them of when I had things thrown at me. "Who's it you said before... Belle I think? Or that Meg girl?"

"Dad, they aren't my friends. They all hate me."

"Well with that attitude they will! Elsa, if you want to make some friends, you have to step out of your comfort zone. Get chatting to people, share interests! People aren't as bad as you think."

Funny, I'm in my final year of school, and all throughout I've had the same treatment from everyone. I think they're very much are as bad as I think. Who'd want to chat to the girl that constantly has her head buried in a book anyway?

I looked down at my plate again. It was near enough full, a half eaten lamb chop, peas and chips all barely touched; but the thought of school being bought back up made me lose my appetite entirely. Or it could be the fact after being surrounded by morons all day, I just wanted to be alone. The fact my dad has just pretty much said it's my fault I don't have any friends also doesn't help. But by now, I'm used to it.

I dropped by fork, pushing my chair back away when I jumped to my feet. I needed to get out, I needed to be alone.

"I'm not hungry." I muttered, before hastily making my exit.

We live in a small bungalow, my room being next to the dining room. It was excellent to make a quick getaway from family occasions. I could eavesdrop quite easily by pressing a glass against the wall to listen in. As much as I wanted to be alone, I wanted to hear what my parents were saying.

After my rather loud slam of the door, I took my position on my bed, leaning close up, pressing my ear against the glass I'd held up. The muffled noises began to become clear enough for me to hear. I could hear the plates clattering, the waste disposal turning on, the sink running. Hanging on a little longer, my parents eventually engaged in conversation.

"You really shouldn't push her, you know." I had always opened up to my mother more than my father. Unintentionally, but she just seemed to understand more. She seemed to know that life in school was something I disliked. She'd offer advice and help, but really, I was glad there was someone who just listened. I wish my father shared the same patience.

"What am I supposed to do Lily? The girl won't talk to me anymore, how am I supposed to get a conversation going if she won't even talk about her day with me?"

"Well she obviously doesn't want to talk about it! Harold, she's seventeen years old. She'll want to be alone, quite a lot. She's always been a quiet girl."

"A hermit, more like. If you'd have just let me take her with us on Sundays maybe she'd-"

"Oh yes that would have been brilliant. Not only would she struggle with people in school, but she'd be forced into a belief she doesn't want as well. Yes, that would be so much better."

Ah yes, I forgot to mention that. Mother and Father are Christians. Nothing too strict, but they go to church every Sunday. Dad wanted to push me into it, but mother insisted I had a choice. I didn't see the point, personally. I'm really more one of science and fact rather than religion and belief. Not that I judge anyone for it, but I'm thankful that I had the option not to go. We don't follow it too much, at least mother doesn't; but let's just say father is rather judgemental.

"I just don't know what to do with her anymore. She's... different. I know she's doing well in school, but I expected her to have friends around, you know? Be doing all that teenager stuff, doing make up, chatting about boys... Not sat with her face buried in JK Rowling." Ouch. Thanks, dad.

"Just... leave her be for a while Harold. She's clearly not in the mood for talking. She's got Marshmallow in there; he'll be enough to calm her down for tonight."

I'd heard enough. Yeah, I wanted to be alone. My mother was bang on about that. But I still don't understand why my dad doesn't just try to talk to me, or at least try and see my point of view when I try to make conversation.

I withdrew my hand from the wall, placing the glass back on my computer desk, before sitting on my bed a moment. A gaze at the ground caused all the thoughts to sink in again. What if I did try and talk? Surely it can't be that hard to make friends, right? Then maybe my dad would finally be proud of me... I don't get it. I'm scoring straight A's, I'm not out doing drugs or... god knows what. I'm a good person! He should be proud... right?

The thoughts were interrupted by the rattling bars of the rabbit cage sat by my bed. Sure enough, when I looked down, I was met with large innocent eyes. It was my rabbit, Marshmallow; a dopey, albino, lionhead rabbit. The only friend I had, or needed. I felt a grin creep upon my face as I crouched down to his cage, carefully lifting him out to hold him close. Cuddling with him always gave me such comfort. It didn't seem like much, but he made me feel safe. He was tame as anything, well, toward me anyway; often I'd leave the cage open and let him roam around my room. Sometimes, I'd fall asleep with him on my chest, cuddling him up. It probably sounds stupid, considering an animal to be my only friend; but talking to him was probably all that kept me sane the past few years.

"Oh Marshmallow... Why can't people be like you? Just sit, listen, cuddle; not judge me no matter what I do?"

The rabbit sat in my arms calmly, nose constantly squirming, eyes softening as I stroked his dense fur down into place. He never said a word back, never offered any comforting words; but his presence alone was enough to let me forget the stress of being picked on all day.

I picked him up one last time, kissing the top of his head before placing him back into his cage. I'd had enough of today, I just wanted it to end quicker. The sooner the weekend came, the better. With that thought in mind, I turned out my light to go to bed. Here's to another day tomorrow...

Wonder what they'll do to me this time?

Well, English had been awful. We got little to no work done thanks to Kuzko's antics, that guy practically walks around as if he owns the place. Pointing out the drawings I was doing in my sketch book wasn't fun, especially when he was frantically asking why I was drawing silly rabbits. Maths was also a bore. I finished my work far before anyone else, decided against drawing just because of the last period. I was beginning to get annoyed as the others had found a supply of elastic bands and had proceeded to flick them at the back of my head. Continuously. And next was a double period of science. Oh Joy.

It was practical lesson too, so that meant partnering up. There was an odd number of students. I thanked whatever god was smiling down on me today, this meant I could work on my own without a moron copying my work and pretending they had a part in it.

I had just put on a lab coat and fitted the safety goggles over my own glasses, getting ready at my desk with what awaited us. It wasn't a particularly nice sight. Today we were doing biology, specifically, dissecting pig hearts. Least I could imagine it was some of the fellow students as I stabbed it with a scalpel.

The room was an echo of chatter from the other students, each expressing their disgust with the object on the platters in front of them. Yes, well done, it's a bloody organ. No need to poke it continuously.

I had just began writing the first part of the assignment, the brief introduction on the work sheets. Explaining what I'm about to do, what I hope to achieve, all that stuff yadda yadda. I'd just finished, having just picked up the scalpel to begin when-

"Elsa, make room on your desk. Anna will be working with you."

Oh for Christ sakes. It was one of Meg and Belle's group, one of the popular, good for nothing bimbos that for some reason all of the men made goo goo eyes over; including my idiot cousin. This one's a redhead, covered in freckles, very much into P.E. She's not too bad at English either, but spends most of it chatting to Snow. I'll give her credit, she's never said anything about or to me personally; but if she associates herself with them, we're not getting along.

Her bag was immediately thrown into my leg space, almost hitting my ankles. The girl was too focused on trying to get her jacket on to mind my personal space; she just about hit me in the face when forcing her arm through one of the sleeves. Once finally ready, she placed her goggles on, looking to me with a soft smile, then to her work sheet. She gazed over at mine a moment, then back to hers. If she thinks she's going to copy my hard work...

"So, what do we have to write about?" She'd began writing her name and the date before asking. Maybe she wouldn't ask to copy my work at all? That would make a change. I placed my scalpel back down to re-read by own work, breaking it down to basics for her.

"Basically just write what we're going to do to it, and what we're hoping to find. So like how we're going to cut it to see how the valves work." At least I've given her some form of chance by telling her that sentence, then she can't bitch saying I'm completely hostile. I was completely surprised when I was met with a warm smile, as she began to write.

"Cool, thanks! Sorry I had some stuff to deal with while at lunch so I missed the introduction." Understandable; you were probably having a cigarette with the rest of your grou-

No, this is exactly why you don't have any friends, Elsa. This judgement needs to stop. So far she's been ok to you, why think this bullshit about her when she hasn't done anything to deserve it?

"It's Elsa, right?" I turned to look at her when she asked, catching another smile on her face. I couldn't help but return my own. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as I thought. At least she was interested enough to learn my name, or at least I hope it wasn't to make a snide remark toward me.

"Yeah, Elsa Kingston. And you're Anna Delle if I remember right?"

"Yeah, but just Anna's fine. So, where abouts do we need to make the first cut?" Well, she wants to jump right in there and get straight to it. That certainly helps me. I was quick to pick the scalpel back up, pointing it at the side with the blade to demonstrate. Straight away she turned up her nose, her expression turning sour when I offered her the chance to take over. "I don't think I want to be the one to do it... I have a rather weak stomach."

Fair enough, I'd probably make a neater cut anyway. "You can watch me do it then. I got to admit, it's a little sickly when you can feel the heart strings." Truth be told, I didn't exactly have a strong stomach either, but I'd done it before when I stopped behind after school for some extra studies. I made the first incision, able to feel the redheaded girl's gaze ever watching what I was doing. It was rather strange to have this attention, but as long as it wasn't taking the piss, it was fine. Once I'd cut in deep enough I gently had to pull it apart, thankfully we were all wearing gloves for this part.

Anna had to cover her own mouth, her face scrunching up yet again when looking at my bloody hands and the rather gory scene. It was clear she wasn't comfortable with this, but the work had to be done.

"Well if you don't want to look, I can tell you what to write then I'll copy it, ok?" It was a better solution than nothing. I just hoped she had enough concentration to copy down what I said. I looked back at the organ I was holding in my hands; so far we were the only pair that had made any visible progress. Everyone else was stabbing in random places. Being children. They weren't bothering me as I described what was inside to my lab partner, which she copied down the information I gave regardless. We were soon finished before everyone else.

"And that's how we can tell this is a healthy heart, because of the clear space through-"

I instantly froze. I felt something was thrown at my head, landing in my hair.

Please, please say that's paper...

I hesitantly reached my hand up, patting my head around where I felt the impact.

Judging by Anna covering her mouth yet again, staring wide eyed at the top of my head, I was pretty sure it wasn't paper. The rest of the class had become silent also, I felt the eyes of twenty students all looking my way, some even beginning to chuckle.

Then I felt it. A horrible, bloody chunk had been thrown into my hair.

My breathing paused whilst I got it out, as I desperately attempted to calm my nerves. I knew I didn't have a strong stomach, and now I have got blood all over my hair. I could feel it, sticky, warm and disgusting. I felt my stomach turning, my breathing, when I finally started to again, became slightly heavier.

Everyone was staring, I hate being watched. The stomach movements continued, I could feel it rumbling up my chest, against my throat, I was panting.

I was going to be sick.

I heard laughter start to echo through the room when I rose from my chair. I didn't even need the teacher's concerned calls to know I had to run to the bathroom. I was violated and humiliated, I needed to get out. I needed to get my lunch out at the moment. I covered my mouth, I could feel it coming up.

I didn't return to class that day. I didn't go back to finish my work. I immediately hid away in the nurses office once my stomach was emptied of its contents, waiting for my parents to come pick me up.

Surely it can't get any worse then this.