The wind whipped through my dark red hair as I ran through the woods. It was dark and cool. I looked up to the stars for an answer and saw the dark shadows flitter across the moon. I ran and ran, looking for a place to hide. There’s no where to hide, and even if I could, they’d see me. I’m just running. I know I’m going to get caught, but I just can’t stop.

I am Sara Bell. This is my story.


I was born June 20th 1993. I was 12 days over due. I had severe head trauma, and I wasn’t supposed to live. My skull had collapsed and the bones were shooting from my skin. Pieces had struck into my brain, piercing nerves, sending me into shock. They put me in a small room where I was supposed to die. I remember them saying ‘There’s nothing we can do.’, and a lot of people crying. I stayed silent. Most people don’t remember themselves being born. But I do. In detail, I might add.

I was lying there, in a little bed they made up for me. I felt the blood trickling down my face and dripping onto my arms. I was dying. I knew it, and there was no denying it. I lay there, watching people walk by in the window of the door. It’s a terribly small window, but I can see glimpses of white coated doctors and nurses strolling by. My vision was blurred in the left eye. I wasn’t in pain, surprisingly. But I knew it was coming. I knew I’d be gone soon. That’s when, suddenly, I got a chill down my spine that made my neck twinge. I looked over to my right and there, lying next to me, was a small girl. She was faded with a ghostly shadow around her. She wasn’t pale, but faded. I could see through her. Then, in a soft, sweet voice, she said

‘I am your twin sister’


I tried to speak, but she stopped me.

‘I died during birth. They don’t know about me. I am here to help you.’ She continued, ‘The great one has granted me power to give you life. He needs your help.’


There was a mass amount of snapping and popping as my head pushed itself back into its natural form.

‘Help with what?’ I asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough, dear one, but as for now you must call attention. Kick, scream, yell, or cry!’


I started crying. I was jumping and screaming, making a fool out of myself when he rushed in. He was a tall slender man, with green eyes and short brown hair. He grinned and shouted and lifted me up. He held me in his arms and I knew, immediately, that this man wasn’t a doctor, but my father…


He took me into a room. It was all white. It looked clean and tidy. A woman sat there, looking up at me. She was covered with a white bedspread. She had long brown hair and brown eyes. She seemed calm but her eyes were screaming with surprise.

‘What’s going on?!’ she asked.
‘This is our baby!’ He said, ‘This is our baby Sara Bell!’


Just then a man in a white coat that stretched down to his knees walked in. He didn’t look up. He had thin whit hair and his left hand shook as he was flipping through the papers on the clipboard. I made a whimpering noise and he looked at me. His mouth dropped open in awe. A little newborn with a fractured skull, miraculously fixed up and breathing. He was speechless. He scooped me up in his arms, yelled ‘I need her for analysis!’ and scurried out the door. My dad was rushing frantically after him, my mom calling out ‘Let it be Honey, He’ll do no harm to her!’


Then, suddenly, things went black.

------------------------------------ P-A-G-E---B-R-E-A-K-------------------------------------------


Since then, we’ve moved six times. We lived in Washington, Wyoming, Iowa, New York, New Jersey, Kansas, and finally we now live in Salem, Massachusetts. I think we are here for good. It’s somewhat small, but I love it. I go to Salem High School It’s pretty amazing. It’s right on the corner of Highland Avenue. The only thing is we have a lot of tourists. They mainly come because Salem is famous for witches. I guess they think it’s haunted. I haven’t noticed anything though. It’s quite eerie at night. The wind whips violently, making that whistling noise. It gets extremely dark out and the bats are always around. The moon is almost always huge, like you could reach up and grab it. There are a few neighbors of mine I just met. They seem nice. I believe the oldest is Alfred. He’s 16. My mom says I should ‘try new things’ whenever we move, so I think I’m going to join the art club. I’m not much of an artist, but I sketch alright. So the first day of school I hear on the announcements that the art club meets that night. Then I call my mom and tell her to pick me up late.


School was a blur, I was overwhelmed with papers and where my classes are. All the teachers kept explaining the rules, even though they’re the same as my other schools. They say ‘No fighting, no cussing, no cell phones, no gloves, no skulls’, just the average stuff. I go to my locker and stuff all my new books into it. I’m hanging a poster of a band I like when I feel a poke on my back. I look around slowly, my hair falling into my eyes, and see Alfred.

“Hey!” He says, enthusiastically.
“Hey.” I reply.
“Looks like I’ll be seeing a lot of you this year eh?” He asks.
“Why do you say that?” I say.


He turns a little, reaches out for the locker next to mine and smiles.

“Oh I see” I say before he has to explain.
“Who do you have next?”
“I have Mr. Stern. What about you?” I ask.
“Mr. Stern!” He says, again with as much enthusiasm as when he said hello.
“Cool.”
“Need any help? I could carry your books for you.”
“Nah I got my books.”
“Could I walk you to class?”
“Um… Sure, why not?” I smile.


Alfred and I walk to Mr. Stern’s class together. He goes and sits in his assigned seat and I walk in and ask for a place to sit. Mr. Stern, as cheery and peppy as Alfred, walks over a desk, puts his hands down on it, and says ‘Right here young lady!’ You’ll never guess who it’s next to. Ok, maybe you will. I sit right next to Alfred. I set my books down, sit, and relax. Next thing I know I hear my pencil roll of the desk and Alfred handing it to me. I think to myself ‘It’s going to be a long year’. Don’t get me wrong, I like Alfred, but I just don’t know him that well.


Mr. Stern walks to the front of the class pulls down the map overhead the green board and says,

“Now class, pay attention. Today we will start our project on the French.” He continues as he points toward Italy, the boot shaped country. “We will be partnered up and picking a French civilization.”

Suddenly, everyone laughs. They all point to the map as if there’s an elephant wearing a fake moustache!

“Yes, yes. I am pointing to Italy. It was a test to see if you were paying attention.”
“It wasn’t that funny.” I murmur.
“You didn’t think it was funny?” Alfred asks.
“That’s what I said.” I said calmly.
“I guess being from around the world, you’ve seen funnier things.”
“I haven’t been around the world.” I replied, looking dead ahead.
“Around the country, I mean.”

“A little side conversation eh? Well let’s hear it.” Mr. Stern butts in.
“That’s ok. It wasn’t anything.” Alfred says looking up from his desk.
“Well it must have been something pretty damn important to interrupt my lesson.”


There was a silence that filled the classroom. A few gasps were heard on the other side of the room. A few kids looked down at their paperwork.
“Now, back to the French, turn to page 681 in your books please.”


Everyone hurries to get out their books and all you can hear is the flipping of pages. I sit there, tensed. I have no book. Surely he can’t punish me if he hasn’t given me a book yet.

“Sara, we need to get you a book.”

He walks over behind my desk and to the back of the room. He grabbed a book from the cupboard and walks back to me. He sets it on my desk.

“Your book number is 24. It’s the only book you get.”


I nod and turn to page 681 like he had told everyone else.

“The French are known for more than their accents, and their snails.” He explains.


A few chuckles were shared. He started to read the first paragraph.

“The monarchy ruled France until the French Revolution, in 1789. Louis XVI and his wife, Marie Antoinette, were executed (in 1793), along with thousands of other French citizens. After a series of short-lived governmental schemes, Napoleon Bonaparte seized control of the Republic in 1799, making himself First Consul, and later Emperor of what is now the First Empire. In several different wars, his armies conquered most of continental Europe, with members of the Bonaparte family being appointed as monarchs of newly established kingdoms.”

Mr. Stern whipped out a laser pointer and pointed it at my book.

“You, read.”


Everyone’s heads darted back down into their books. I looked around and seeing no one was watching my continued on with reading the chapter.

“The French Republic is a semi-presidential republic with great democratic traditions. The constitution of the Fifth Republic was approved on September 28, 1958. It greatly strengthened the authority of the executive in relation to parliament. The executive branch itself has two leaders: the President of the Republic, who is head of state and is elected directly by universal adult suffrage for a 5-year term, and the Government, led by the president-appointed Prime Minister.”

Mr. Stern walks toward the door, opens it, and says,
“Great work paying attention everyone, have a nice day, I’m letting you out a minute early today.”

Everyone in the class gathers their books up and heads out the door.
“Sara, I need to see you for a minute.”

I gather my stuff and set it on the desk closest to the door. I walk over to Stern, now seated at his desk in the front of the room. I hear someone set their stuff down and turn to see Alfred waiting for me. I try to shoo him, but he doesn’t see.
“Now Sara, I understand your new here, but I think most rules apply everywhere.”
“I understand. No talking.”

I walk away, noticing that Alfred is still there. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says,
“Sorry I got you in trouble.”
“It’s not your fault.” I say, and pull away from his hand.
“Well if I hadn’t responded to what you said, we wouldn’t have had a conversation.”
“Who cares? It’s over with.”


He looks at me and I start out the door. I walk to my locker and start to put in the combination. Alfred walks up, puts one hand on the lock on his locker and lifts his other arm over my shoulders. He’s turned toward me and he starts to talk.

“So where are you planning on sitting for lunch?” he asks.
“No where.”
“Sit with me?” He says, and looks into my eyes.
“Maybe.”
“Please?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“Fine.” I say.