Krystal's POV

  Krystal jolted awake from her sleep, her mind replaying the scene from last night over and over again, not letting her forget a single moment of it. She touched her left wrist, moving her thumb over the area where she was grabbed on the night before, the area where he had gripped her.

  She shook the distracting thought away as she got up from bed and headed to her bathroom.

  It wasn’t the time to be thinking of weird rapists, she told herself as she looked into the mirror that stood in front of her, staring into her own reflection. Definitely not on the first day of school. 

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    "Ready for school, hon?" Her mother gave her a warm smile, placing the milk carton on the dining table.

    Krystal grabbed the milk and poured it into her bowl of cereal. "I guess?"

    Her mother came over and gave her a light kiss on the head, telling her that everything would go fine. It was just school, she had said.

    School, hell. What's the diffference?

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    Walking through the gates of her new high school, Krystal couldn't help but wonder what laid in front of her. What kind of people she would meet, what kind of school work she'd have to deal with. More like what kind of I'd have to deal with. 

    She sighed at her own thought. Ever since her kindergarten days, she had never fancied anything related to education. She always preferred learning things that could actually help her deal with everyday life, like fixing her heater when it broke, which was what happened this morning, when she accidentally slammed herself against the heater switch while trying to put on her denim jeans. She realized then, that it was time for her to transfrom into the gym-loving teen again. It was definitely no walk in the park, keeping up with her toned abs, or her slim-as-fudge-muffins waistline. 

    Anyways, she was more of a hands-on person, rather than one to stay locked in their room with their head buried under piles and piles of school books. If there was anything she loved more than not-studying, it was singing, or acting. Very hands-on, not-much-knowledge-about-the-quadratic-function-graph-needed kinf of thing.. That's the way she liked everything to be, simple and un-mathematical. 

    Krystal stopped walking, looked around from where she was standing and realized that she was lost. Students ran and walked past her but none were paying any attention to the lost expression plastered over her face. Being a new and foreign student, she didn't really had the courage to go around asking people where the lockers were. She was a foreign student as she had just moved to Korea from the United States, and after spending a week exploring the area of her new home, she came to a quick conclusion that Korean high schools were nothing like American high schools. Education-system wise, and of course, student wise.

    She was aware of the fact that Asians were less outgoing though they are usually more well-mannered than the Westerners Even though she was a pure-blooded Korean, she was still dreading the thought of having to strike up a random conversation with one of them. After spending more than 16 years in California, Krystal didn't even feel like a Korean anymore. She knew how to speak the language and all, but being here, around people of the same race, she just couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place, of being an outcast. 

    "Hey, do you need help?"

    A girl with light brown-ish colored hair with a rainbow-colored sling bag on her shoulder approached Krystal.

    She smiled at Krystal, awaiting for an answer.

    "Oh, um, yeah," Krystal laughed shyly, "Do you mind pointing me to wherever the lockers are at?"

    "No problemo. You see that building over there?" The girl pointed towards a short building that looked like it could be a school hall, "Yeah, that's the school hall slash basketball court slash netball court slash gym area. It's like this multi-purpose hall, but anyway, you need walk into the place and from there, you enter the main school building where all the classrooms are at, and that's where you find the lockers."

    "Cool," Krystal nodded and squinted her eyes at the building that was the school hall slash basketball court slash everything else.

    The girl gave another smile. "You're new here, huh?"

    "Oh yeah, sorry," Krystal  turned back to the smiling girl and gave an awkward laugh, "I'm uh, Krystal."

    "An English name? Interesting," she smiled again.

    Wow, she sure likes to smile.

    "My name's Luna."

    "Oh. My Korean name's Jung Soo-Jung though. I'm just used to people calling me Krystal,"  she explained, trying to clear things up a bit.

    "Ah, i see. So, you're not from around here, are you?" She cocked one of her eyebrows.

    "Nope, my family and i just moved from the States. It's actually my second week being here."

    "Well, that explains your accent," she laughed, "Not that there's anything wrong with it."

    "Yeah, my Korean's a little rusty," Krystal looked downwards, feeling a little embarrassed by her failure to speak her mother tongue properly.

    "Nah, it sounds fine. You just don't sound local, that's all."

    They laughed together for a while before Krystal made a move. After all, she still needed to find her damn locker, wherever it is. 

    "Hey, Krystal! Don't forget to gather at the school hall when the first bell rings. First day of school and all, the principal always has something to say," Luna said as Krystal was walking away.

    She turned around and bowed her head in acknowledgement, thanking Luna for informing her of the gathering. 

    Entering the basketball court slash school hall, Krystal smiled to herself. First friend. Well, that wasn't so hard.

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    She walked passed the school's basketball court on the way to the lockers, where basketball practice was seemingly going on. There were boys, sweaty, dirty-looking boys running around the court, chasing after the orange-colored ball. They yelled at each other like barbarians while playing and one of the idiots had even looked over at Krystal and winked. Of course, Krystal responded to that very friendly gesture by rolling her eyes.

    Being barbaric is one thing, but running around a rectangular area, chasing after a ball and then doing whatever they can to "dunk" the ball into a netted hole was another thing. Krystal just failed to see the excitement of chasing one another around like monkeys just to toss a ball into a hole, and that wasn't the only thing Krystal  failed to sense excitement in. Another thing she didn't find exciting or intriguing at the least in her teenage life would be boys, or rather, sweaty, smelly, basketball-playing boys.

    There was just something about those hairy, over-muscular arms that seemed somewhat unappealing to Krystal. 

    "Amster! Amster! Amster!" The chanting came from a group of girls who looked no older than 15 years of age. They cheered and chanted what sounded like someone's name while holding each of their friend's hands as they hop up and down like those annoying schoolgirls(which they are) by the bleachers and next to the basketball court. What is this, the cheerleading squad?

    "AMSTER YOU ARE SO HOTTTTTTTTTTT!" Krystal heard one of the crazy fangirls yell and saw the girl blow a kiss at the direction of the players. She had no idea who this Amster person was, but whoever he is, she was already feeling sorry for him. Guess cheerleaders here don't do things much differently than the ones back home did.

    Out of the corner of her eye, something, or someone had caught Krystal's attention. She looked towards the basketball court and let out a silent gasp. Something in her mind brought her back to the night before, when she was at the park and in the company of a man. A man, with short, blonde hair.

    That blonde hair.

    Krystal narrowed her eyes at one of the players in the court. He was hopping, waving his arms up and down, trying to get his teammates to pass him the ball. Seconds later, when the ball was finally thrown his way, he caught it in his hands and swiftly sent it inside the basketball hoop. Soon after, the even more barbaric yelling began.

    "Holy , that was some shooting Am!"

    "What the heck? You weren't even near the hoop!"

    "Hell yeah, Amster, you did great!"

    And then the rest just sounded like loud, gurgling noises that came from the throat of a dying whale. Also, lets not forget about the "cheerleaders" by the bleachers who by then, weren't cheering or chanting the player's name anymore, no, they switched from crazy-fangirl screaming, to-dying-cat-by-the-roadside meowing. Honestly, there were no words to describe whatever noise they were making. Well, other than horrible, or annoying as .

    The boys rushed over to the guy who took the shot and immediately surrounded him, shielding anyone else's view of him from outside the court. They cheered on for a little longer before moving towards the exit and disappearing completely from Krystal's eyes. The fangirls must have followed the boys outside as the school hall became silent and regained its previous peace it had before the pack of dying cats came in. 

    She ran her fingers through her brown hair as she walked to the entrance of the school building that was connected to the basketball court. She stopped in her tracks upon reaching the doors. What kind of name is Amster? Or was it Hamster?

     As she was about to carry on her way to the lockers, she decided to take one more look at the basketball court and once again, something caught the brown-haired girl's attention. She turned away from the doors and made her way towards one of the bleachers. When one of the students ran past the bleachers just now, she had seen a piece of paper fly up and fall onto the ground. Seeing that no one around showed any intention of picking it up, she went the extra mile as the piece of paper might be of importance. You never know, right?

    She kneeled down and picked up the fallen piece of paper. Reading from it, she realized that this was indeed something of importance. It was a fellow student's class schedule. 

    Amber Josephine Liu, Senior Year.

    "Tsk, tsk. A senior?" Krystal said out loud. 

    She scoffed, unable to believe the carelessness of this senior. Eighteen and still leaving important belongings behind. What a complete idiot.

    She sat herself down on the bleachers as she looked into her bag and took out one of her ballpoint pens and then a yellow-colored sticky note. Taking off the pen's cap, she then placed its tip on the sticky note and began writing. 

A/N so i'm not sure if this was a good update or. Meh, it probably but oh wells.