"Oh no," I heard Mr. Garcia mutter in between my disheveled sobs.

I looked up at him, wiping away a few stray tears, my eyelashes soaked and my green eyes ready to release my liquid emotions once again. It was truly astonishing how much tears my eyes could compose.

"What happened?" He asked softly, putting his hand gently on mine.

I slowly retrieved my notepad and pen from my backpack and began to sloppily scribble, my fingers shaking and hands wobbling.

If I were to speak, my words would have definitely been incoherent, so I realized that sometimes it's relaxing to not speak. With that in mind, I continued to write on the notepad.

People on the bleachers were talking about me. They were saying things that weren't true. I'm sorry that I'm acting like such a baby, it just hurts I guess.

"Look at me, Poppy." Mr. Garcia said. He tilted up my chin and wiped away another tear, his finger leaving a trail of warmth on my damp cheek. "You're not a baby, nor are you acting childish in any way. You're strong. And I'm not just saying that because supposedly it makes people feel better. You are strong. Do you think it's easy for someone to live with the guilt you do?"

He paused for a second and then began again. "Do you think it's easy to not be able to respond? No, clearly it's not and you know that way better than anyone else in this whole damn school. Nobody knows you and nobody knows what you're going through. So you know what? They don't deserve to know. They are disgusting beings who are so bored with their lives that they'd rather talk about someone else's. You ignore it, and you keep your head high. You can't save their lost souls, and it's not your job to. You are magnificent, Poppy Rose. You are two different flowers in one being, and that is truly beautiful."

The first thing that popped into my mind after he finished talking to me was two different flowers.

I scribbled on my notepad.

What do you mean by two different flowers?

He chuckled. "Your name, dear. A poppy and a rose. It's a truly incomparable name and that itself proves how unique you are."

His eyes searched mine for a response, but I stared blankly ahead at his comforting complexion. His wonderfully warm brown eyes. His tan skin and messy brown hair. I didn't know how I could possibly thank him, but one specific idea came to mind.

"Thank you, Mr. Garcia. Thank you so much." Each word I uttered was quiet and wavering from my recent tears, but I knew he heard it. His reaction was priceless. His eyes lit up and he smiled so wide I could see his gums atop of his straight and pearly white teeth.

I was surprised to notice how unfamiliar I sounded. Not hearing your voice for a long time is odd, but in a good way. It was comforting, but after saying those words I closed my eyes and in replace of the darkness my eyelids possessed came an image of my mother engulfed in the flames. I shuddered at the image, but a firm grasp shook me out of my mental ordeal.

"You can do this," he said quietly. "You have to accept the images in order to move on. The more you speak, the more you'll get used to it. It'll take time, but you're strong enough. Baby steps, Poppy."

I nodded and he gave me a sad smile, one that did not reach his eyes. But when he put his hand on mine again, the comfortable gesture gave me the fuel to keep my head high as he had said to. His words repeated themselves over and over as the rest of the day went on.

Mr. Lee's class eventually came and my whole body was consumed in anxiety, except this feeling was a lot worse. Mr. Garcia's words of empowerment had kept me with my head raised for quite some time, but the feeling eventually faded when I locked eyes with Mr. Lee.

I was embarrassed and nervous and my head wouldn't stop throbbing. What did he think of me now? The possibilities were endless. Did he feel bad for me? I didn't want him to feel bad for me.

I stared at the desk while the class went on, lacking any energy to write down the notes that I should have been doing. It was out of my control when my eyelids fell shut and I was swallowed by a nap, my head resting on the cold desk that felt nice against my cheek with the smell of windex on its' surface.

"Poppy?"

His voice. Mr. Lee's voice was in my right ear and that itself caused my head to jolt up, my cheeks rosy and flushed from the nap.

"Hey, hey relax," he whispered quietly, kneeling aside my desk in the back of the classroom so that his face was leveled with mine. He was probably four inches away. Not far at all. I glanced around the classroom, noticing that it was empty. I let my vision adjust to the sun-lit classroom.

"I figured you needed the sleep. I held my class in a different room." He said.

He did that for me? Part of me wanted to jump up in pure joy, but another part of me wanted to slap him. It was all pity. The way he was treating me was an act; a nice gesture for an emotionally lost and lonely student. I couldn't take it.

I pressed my fingers against my cheeks, feeling the indent of my sleeve. My face probably looked red and splotchy and I didn't even want to think about how my hair looked, not that it ever looked good anyways. Not that I cared, either. But Mr. Lee was making me feel self- conscious, which was completely out of character.

I took out the notepad from my back pocket.

Thanks for letting me sleep. I'm going to go head for lunch. See you at practice?

"Yes," he grunted, kneeling back up and already multiple inches above me. The smell of his masculine cologne lingered. "See you at practice."

I nodded in his direction and quickly gathered my things, not caring if I dropped anything behind me. I was too much in a rush to escape the tension.

Slowly, but gradually lunch breezed by and soon enough I was standing in the locker room, dressing for the first day of cross-country practice. Changing in front of girls was new to me, since I hadn't experienced such a thing since seventh grade. I hid my body by facing the lockers.

"Why do you look so ashamed?" Vera came up to me with her dark blue hair in a long, straight ponytail, just touching her hips. She was in tight black shorts and a sports bra, her belly-button piercing glimmering against her pale skin. She shimmied into a t-shirt as she waited for my response.

It was a huge struggle, having to always grab at my notepad whenever somebody talked to me. Not that people talked to me all the time, but it was still aggravating. I enjoyed Vera's company, though.

I wrote down on the paper:

Just not used to it, I guess.

"You'll eventually realize that everybody is kinda just minding their own business. Like you." She smiled. "You've got a nice little body, no perversion intended, just bein' honest."

I smiled in response to her compliment. She waltzed out of the locker room with the other cross country girls behind her, but I lingered in the room for a little longer. I gazed at myself in the mirror.

My hair was piled into a firm, messy bun. My eyes were wide and my eyelashes long, but the bags were visible. I had put on a hoodie and black tight shorts as well, but my hoodie that was actually my father's was baggy and covered most of it. My legs were thin and tan, and on my feet were my black and white running sneakers.

Was I pretty? I wouldn't think so. I had a small nose and regular lips, with high cheekbones and very few freckles. My lips were always too red and my eyes always seemed to be bloodshot. So basically I was flawed, which was normal.

But I am not normal. I am so far from normal. As I jogged into the comforting outdoors with the cool breeze and warming sunlight and made my way to the track where most of the students were stretching, I couldn't help but think about how abnormal I was.

I could run with these students all I wanted. I could learn with them and see them everyday until the summer, but I would never be like them. I'm the girl who doesn't talk. I'm the girl who has rumors about her, and yet nobody cares about the truth. I'm the freak who can't even answer a question during class.

I'm the girl who killed her mother.

Mr. Lee cleared his throat and everybody turned towards him. He was wearing black running sneakers with navy blue shorts and a white shirt. His biceps and flat stomach decorated in muscle and a six-pack showed through his shirt, and I wasn't the only one looking. However, he was completely oblivious to the attention on his torso and instead was holding a clipboard that his eyes were glued to.

"I've decided that since it's our first practice, we'll take it easy so that everybody can get more prepared for the meets in the future. Since it is September and the season ends in the middle of November, we'll do short distance runs for a few weeks and gradually make our way to long distance on the different trails around the school. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. I stood awkwardly near Vera as she chatted with somebody aside her.

"Can we do a relay?" A girl asked, someone I didn't know.

"Do you guys want to?" Mr. Lee asked as Mr. Falliner came up aside him.

Both the girls and guys were all shouting in approval, myself feeling lost in such a big group. Mr. Lee looked at me, as if asking for permission. I nodded.

"Okay, settle down." Mr. Lee said. "How about this; we'll do one race with five students and see how that goes. It'll be just one lap around the track. Mr. Falliner could take five other students to the field on the side of the track so that everyone can get a turn."

As the students began to split up, Mr. Lee came up to me.

"Do you want to start out first? You're exceptional at running, I've seen it. These students would really be impressed."

In front of all these people? My anxiety already started kicking in. The blood started rushing to my face immediately.

"You don't have to be scared," he whispered. "Show them how good you are."

And those words were my motivation.

Me and four other students, two guys and two girls plus me all stood in a starting position, each in our little section on the track.

"On three you run," Mr. Lee shouted.

"One!" The students screamed louder than Mr. Lee, who ended up letting them count instead. The school spirit and enthusiasm was actually quite exciting.

"Two!"

I blinked and my fingers gripped the ground beneath me, steadying myself. I heard Vera shout my name, but I was too anxious to turn and look.

"Three!"

We were all off. The thumping of our sneakers echoed as we made our way on the track, my speed already increasing so that I was ahead of everybody. My arms moved back and fourth at my sides while the wind whipped through my hair. My breathing became rapid and Mr. Lee's form eventually came into view. The others were far behind me now. I kept running with my eyes glued to him and his smile; a smile that was so wide and so contagious that amidst all the commotion, I smiled as well.

And when I finished in first, everyone giving me high fives and Mr. Lee smiling brightly, I felt something so warm. Vera hugged me and her congratulations filled my ears. Perhaps it was happiness. I hadn't experienced that in a while, but god, it was great.