My Favourite Mistake

Chapter 1: Welcome To My Life


He ran inside his room, banging the door closed and locking it from the inside. Breathing heavily, he slid down to the floor. His head fell back against the door and his eyes slid closed.

He just didn't get it. Why. Why did they always have to this to him? He never did anything! He was like everyone else. So, why him?

So may be he wasn't exactly like everyone else. So may be he was a hanyou. But that wasn't his fault! He sighed. He gave up a long time ago trying to justify what he was. It didn't work. But they just didn't understand it! They never even tried.

So many times he looked for ways to get away. But it would be useless. No matter where he went, all everyone else would see, was a hanyou. A freak of nature. A mistake. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked towards the stereo in his room. He turned it one, and the lyrics of an unfamiliar song spilled from the speakers. He didn't care. Turning it on as loud as it went, he fell on the bed…

…And screamed. Yet, no one heard. Like always. No one ever does. The funny thing? Even if the stereo wasn't on, and he still screamed, no would care anyway. Life is funny like that, isn't it?

You know how the teachers always tell you that if you ever have a problem, go see a councilor? But you know, when you listen to them and go see one, you know that feeling when you stand in the doorway, being glared down at by the person who's supposed to help you? Well, I do.

And they are supposed to understand? They can't even see beyond what everyone else does! They won't even pretend. But they sure do slam the door in your face pretty loudly!


He walked down the school hallways, looking straight at the ground. He could feel the people around him moving farther and farther away from him. Not wanting to be anywhere near someone as filthy as him. And then they came.

Okay, just before anything else, I would like to tell you, this happens everyday. They are all in one group, you know something you would call bullies, but much, much worse? Yeah, like that. He was pushed down, falling to the floor, his books flying from his hands. And like always. There was laughter. From every direction.

That was the moment he just wanted to die. Everyday. Now, isn't life just this big, wonderful, ball of fluff? Yeah, sure, princess. He tried getting up only to have someone step on one of his hands and someone else kick him in the side. He grit his teeth together, trying not to make a sound.

He hated this, could they just take out a gun and shoot a hole in his head? Not like anyone would care anyway! He wouldn't even go to jail! May be he'd get a prize? For making the world a better place? Yeah, probably. He looked up, at the people all around him. He looked at their faces. One by one, his eyes scanned the crowd that gathered to watch. They were really having a lot of fun here. He kept scanning the people, until- wait, and back track. Okay! There's something wrong here. Why is she not laughing? He looked at the girl, standing a bit to the side from him. She was standing in the front, where she got the perfect view of everything. She was just standing there, but unlike everyone else, she wasn't wearing the school uniform. She was dressed in all black. Holding her books in front of her, hands adored with spiked bracelets, and a dog collar on her neck. He looked up at her face. And she still wasn't laughing. She just blinked at him sadly; her blue eyes clear, not cold, like everyone else. She looked at him a second longer, before turning her back to him. The people behind her automatically moved out of her way. Oh right, she was the new girl here. The one who beat up one of the football players. No one messes with her.

He dropped his head down, on top of the hand that wasn't being stepped on at the moment. A few more kicks landed to his other side. And few to his right leg. And there they went pulling him up by his hair. While someone still wouldn't get off his hand. Yeah, everyday thing.

That's my life for you. Wouldn't trade it for the world…

Finally, they dropped him to the ground, everyone spreading out and away from the crime scene. He watched them walk away and towards another group of people. There they went, laughing, joking, and shaking hands in that weird way only they are aloud to do it. You know, those times, when you stand to the side, and look at the popular kids, and may be wish, that you were them, or could be like them? That you didn't have to be you anymore? Well, may be you didn't. But that's just because you are lucky.

He wished that he could find something. Something he was meant for. Not this. You know, when you sit at home, bored out of your mind, and just surf the channels on your TV, and not even looking at it, just hear something cheesy, like "-and ever since then, he knew where he belonged, he could finally be happy.." or something of the sort? You would just keep flipping the channels and scoff at the producer of the movie. But I would just stare at the TV, and it doesn't matter what's happening, I would replace the person in the TV, to me. You know, now so I could be the happy person?

He got up, with some difficulty, picked up his books and started stumbling towards his next class. The teachers didn't appreciate late students! So if they had to bleed to death, but get to class on time, then so be it! He watched as people looked up at him, trying to walk, sort of. They tried to hide their laughter, well, some did, and the others just laughed straight out.

As he walked by, the other students would give him broad smiles, and wave at him, just like friends would. But this was fake; they were just doing it to taunt him. To them, this was a joke. To him, this is how it always was. Always will be.

There were a few people, fake enough to actually tell him that they were his friends. He remembered them. There were three. Then there was him. The idiot, who believed them. And, of course, it ended just like it was supposed to. They backstabbed him. They said, nothing of the sort happened. You know why? They were never his friends to begin with.

He walked into the classroom. A few people were already there, sitting, chatting about anything and everything. He stumbled to the back. His seat was there, no one ever sat in it. It had his germs on it. Right beside the window, so he could look out, at the yard, green grass, trees, the sun, see how beautiful it is? He could still see that. His world still had colour. More so then all the other people. They can't see it, something so simple, so perfect. It doesn't exist.

He sat down quietly, taking out his unfinished homework. Putting it on his desk, he looked out the window. It was Thursday. It was spring, so it wasn't too cold, or too hot yet. There were a few people out side. A few groups of druggies skipping class, and few walking dogs, and just people who were late and trying to rush to class.

The teacher walked into the class and the noise level went down in a second. It was history class. It was pretty boring, since all the teacher did was lecture the old tales and legends, and tell of who wronged who and how the consequences of it all came back. He turned back to the window.

There were less people outside now, since the druggies all left before the principal could find them, and the late students were already in class, with a few detentions or so. But there still were around five people. One of them stood out. She wasn't wearing the uniform.

Baggy black pants, with metal chains hung from her waist, a simple black shirt with a red skull as a top. Two black, spiked bracelets on each wrist, and a dog collar on her neck. Her black hair was let loose, blowing with the wind. Black-gray eye shadow covered her eyelids, making her look somewhat scarier then any girl should. Her skin was pale, making her look dead with all the black clothes adding to the hue. Her nails were a dark colour of blood and mud mixed together, sort of a dead red. Black strap boots were on her feet that would make a nice weapon if ever used in self-defense. A black bag on her shoulders, spikes on each strap, looking all the more threatening.

She was talking to a guy, or he was talking to her while she completely ignored him, walking away. On a closer look, the guy turned out to be Kouga! The bastard that beat him up every day! Why was he talking to her? He was popular, as popular as they got actually, no one did anything against his wishes. She was an outcast.

That's when it happened. As though in slow motion. Kouga stopped following her, threw his hands up in the air, and screamed something at her back. She froze as though under iced water. Closing her eyes, she turned around, facing him. And jump-kicked him right in the face. Then, landed gracefully on the ground, turned back, and walked away as though nothing happened.

Oh, how I wanted to laugh then.

Turns out the rumors about her are true. She was the girl.

History: Expelled from 15 schools. Adopted. Used to live in Tokyo. Was part of the gang called Death Dealers. Rides a motorcycle. Only wears black. Hates authority. Listens to no one. Was suspended on the first day of school. Beat up a gym teacher. Kagome Higurashi.


Hi! I started a new story! Yes, I am crazy. Okay, so can you guess who the story is about? Kagome, duh, but who else? Exactly! Anyway, review and let me know what you think. I'll try and update soon, since its almost summer. Anyways, have fun.

Later.

Kira.