The New Girl”






“I hate this stupid, new school.”


This was all I could think about all day at my new school. My name is Layla, and I have a huge secret. I don’t tell many people, but my secret is why I had to change schools. I trusted my best friend with my darkest secret--although it is pretty obvious with my eyes changing colors from black when I’m upset to them looking like rainbows when I’m just fine-- and she ran and told the whole school. I was feared by everyone: they called me a freak. Although there is nothing I can do about that now. So I shall go on with the story. The main reason I hate my new school is that people always hate on me for my eye color- mainly cheerleaders. About six weeks into the school year the most rich, snotty, spoiled girl in the school, Stacy, wanted to try and make fun of my eyes. I tried to stop her- to warn her, but she didn’t listen. Poor broken Stacy. She should have listened, maybe then she would have not ended up in the hospital with a fractured spine. There were so many pops and cracks followed by a long shrill shriek as she fell. It’s a shame she can’t talk anymore: she can’t tell anyone my secret. I warned her to not hate on my eyes.
I warned her!
It’s been about 3 months since Stacy’s little “accident” and so far no one has questioned me; that’s good, really good. On my way home I get a text from my dad saying that he wont be home for dinner “As usual” I think then I felt bad so I texted back saying “Oh its ok I’ll just stay at a friends house tonight.” I hate lying to my dad he’s such a great guy: he can’t know my secret either.



People who don’t know the real me think of me as shy and backwards, but the people that figure me out, well, lets just say that the can’t tell anyone about the real me. That can’t tell anyone anything. It’s great having people trying to figure me out and I just sit back and enjoy every bit of it. Till it goes too far then I need to go and make sure they can’t tell my secret before it gets out.


Now it’s the last semester of my sophomore year. Stacy is getting better that’s no good. So I decided to pay her a visit at the hospital. Once I got there I signed in as “Kaycee Meralis.” It worked the nurse told me that Stacy just got moved out of intensive care and was in room 113. “Perfect” I thought everyone knows that 13 is the worst possible number to be associated with. I walk into Stacy’s room she is sleeping; I don’t care so I wake her up and tell her that if she tells anyone about my secret that she will never see the light of day again! “I won’t tell anyone I swear” she whimpered. My job was done so I left.


As my sophomore year draws to a close there were at least 16 more accidents like Stacy’s. This school really needs to learn how to control their students. With the exception of me of course I’m every teacher’s favorite student. As I leave the school on the last day the teachers tell me to have a great summer. I will have the best summer ever. First I need to go and tie up all the lose ends, by making sure that they will never be able to spread my secret. Starting with Stacy.