"Hi. My name is Derek Hatter. I am a student of Jameson High School." That's how I will start my interview for jobs. When the interviewers ask about my high school journey, I would tell them a little story. Everyone has a fairytale. They would keep it to themselves, not telling interrogators about their tale. Of course, all fantasy stories start with, "Once upon a time," but how will I start mine?

I was walking through the jam-packed halls, trying to wriggle my way through the crowd to get to my next class, science. Once I was past the mob of students, I sprinted up the stairs when all of the sudden, BAM! I landed on the cold, filthy linoleum floor stained with various footprints. I scowled, brushing off my deep blue jeans. As I stood, a small, short, skinny girl approached me and stammered, " I'm sorry! I didn't mean to crash into you." I mumbled some inaudible words and bent down to gather my heavy textbooks. Suddenly, I saw a bright flash of a neon yellow shirt and blood red shorts. The same tiny girl bent down and reached around the ground to pick up my binder. I froze in fear, a horrible wailing sound pulsing through my head. I saw the horrifying fire roar and swallow my house whole. I saw my mom racing towards me as I lay on the ground, a tiny flame of fire licking at my back. I let out a soft growl, standing up so that I was taller than the girl. Her electric blue eyes stared up at me as I murmured, "You're in trouble now." She chuckled, "More like you are trouble." And she strutted away, smacking my shoulder in the process. Oh, this was going to be an interesting year.

The days rolled on, and I discovered that the girl was in every single one of my classes. Every one. It was an unbearable day of P.E with her. The sun was glaring down on us constantly as we ran and ran around the track. Sweat drenched our uniforms, the smell of b.o. overpowering the air. That's when it happened. The gates crashed down, gunfire and shouts ringing through the air. Our coach screamed, screamed for us to run away. One gunshot went off. Blood ran down the cement. Two. Shrieks erupted everywhere. Three. It was coming at me. I braced for the impact, ready to see my mother once again. But I didn't feel anything. Someone, a girl, lay on top of me, panting. It was her.

I scrambled to my feet, pushing her off. "Hey you. Hey. HEY!" She turned around, her mane of red hair tangled. "What's your name, girl?" "Pearl, Pearl Witen. You can go ahead and laugh at it later. But now, let's scram." And we took off, straight towards the busy streets of Heightenburg road.

Though I detested physical contact, I grabbed her arm, dragging her through nooks and crannies in the alleys. Before I knew it, I stood in front of my apartment. Yanking open the rusty door, I dragged her into the apartment and promptly locked the door after. "So, Pearl, why'd you push me out of the way? Why not just let me die?" She scoffed and plopped down onto my couch. "I'm not that heartless. And I still haven't gotten your name." "It's Derek, Derek Hatter." She stood up, pale fingers twitching at her sides. "Well Derek, where's your parents?" I gasped, memories flying through my head; my dad's warm smile as he left for the war and my mother's apologetic eyes as she told me to run. Tears streamed down my face, blotchy circles rimming my eyes.  Pearl stood there, rooted in place like a tree. Little squeaks filled the silence with sadness. I couldn't stop crying, even when I felt a fluff of tissue against my cheek. Her soothing voice muttered,” There there, you can cry all you want." Salty tears seeped through my lips and turned the incoherent phrases coming out of my mouth into blubbers.

Hours slipped by like water falling from fingers, tinny voices laughing on an old stereo spiraled into the sunset. Pearl and I sat on opposites sides of the room, exchanging stories that would never be spoken of again. One night was all it took, for friendship to be born and hatred to waste away. A sun rose up, and a silvery moon died away. A flower bloomed, and another withered. And I wouldn't want it any way else.

The day I signed up for my job was the day where everything was clear again. "If my past life was a smudged, broken piece of glass, a few days ago it turned to a shiny, beautiful piece of broken glass. But that's because I hadn't found an important piece of something yet. And that something was me. I needed something to love, something to take care of and feel the warmth that it gives. I'm not saying this to be cliché but I wanted to be loved by someone else too. However, today, I have changed that." I thought as my heart thumped against my chest. Pearl stood by my side, a jet-black blazer hugging her shoulders, messy red curls smothered in hair products until sleek and shiny. "Are you ready?" a voice as sweet as honey called outside from my bubble of thought. With my eyes closed and a sigh escaping my lips, the elevator doors slid open with a ding. The world was bright at first, but came into focus a few moments after I felt a warm hand with a hint of cold metal slither into mine. "Yes."

A deep voice sounded through the freezing room. The only source of warmth that I had was Pearl, secretly winding her arms around my waist as we sat together on the couch.  "Tell me about your life, Derek." And I told him my fairytale, ending with a beautiful girl and a beautiful boy, one with a perfect heart and the other with a mended heart.