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Her name was Jeanine. She was a quiet young girl who never paid attention to the other kids. I was in fourth grade when I met her. It was the first day of class, the teacher assigned everyone to talk to one another. I sat next to Jeanine, her silky black hair covered most of her face as she sat and read a book. "The day I ran," was the books name. It was one of my favorite books, I decided to talk to her. "Hi." I said, waiting for a response. Jeanine, turned around to face me. Her green eyes gazed back at me. I, being a bit nervous, looked down at the floor. "I-I...That's my favorite book." Taking a peak, Jeanine sighed. I wasn't sure if she

Kate. That was her name. Kate. Kate was the girl I met at that one high school party I was forced--threatened, really--to go to by my friends. Well, I might as well introduce myself; the name's Erin. Erin Woodhouse, nice to meet you. Enough with the formalities, I should just go ahead and start the story. It all happened that one night, at that when I succumbed to my friends' insistent pleas. I'm not big on parties but they somehow, miraculously, convinced me to go. Probably because I was too bored at home. Or just that they made a very convincing case and branded me as an antisocial jerk--not that I am one. Don't judge me. As we entered m