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This is the start of one of my stories, it's called I'm Not Dead Yet. I am looking for opinions on whether or not I should continue. It is very slow right now. But not all stories start off action packed. This is just the first part of chapter one of mine anyway.

So, let me know, honestly.
(sorry about the lack of quotation marks, word didn't copy them when I copied and pasted this. I'm sure it will be easy for you to follow though.)

I, Alexander Wolfe, walked down the hall to my first class at Greensvillie High School. I kept my hands securely in the pockets of my Hawthorne Heights sweater. In my mind I kept telling myself that I was over reacting. I knew for the most part it was true, the classes and schedule wouldn't be hard to adjust to, it was fitting in that I was worried about. I feared, just as I had at my former school, that I wouldn't be accepted by the student body.

Here we go, room 107. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open quite slowly. It was a relatively normal classroom; the cinder block walls, desks, and chalkboard all seemed so familiar yet different at the same time. I crossed the classroom heading towards the teacher's desk and handed him the schedule card I had been given by the front office.

I'm Mr. Smith, the teacher informed me. Most of the kids just call me Earl, he said, giving me a welcoming smile before standing from his desk and walking to the front of the classroom. Class, he spoke loudly, failing to draw their attention away from their current activities, we have a new student. Let us welcome," he took a moment to glance at the named printed across the top of the card, "Alexander Wolfe. The class still did not seem interested in my arrival; it made me uneasy standing there without any acknowledgment of the fact that I was alive. You can sit there, Mr. Smith said, extending one of his many slender fingers at an unoccupied desk near the back.

It seemed that everyone stared at me as I walked down the aisle. This place is a bit strange. I thought to myself. One minute people could care less who the hell you are and what you are doing standing in the front of the class, and the next they are staring at you like you are some sort of freak show. I rolled my eyes at the onlookers and kept walking.

When I reached the desk Mr. Smith had assigned to me, I grabbed the underside of the top to sit as I had done for as long as I could remember. This time, something was different. There was something sticky on the bottom. I pulled my hand away along with the freshly chewed gum my palm had sunk into.

Great, it was my first day and I embarrassed myself by doing something stupid. I looked down at my schedule that was lying on the clean side of my desk. There were only a few minutes left for this period, which I assumed was the reason Earl was not standing in front of the class lecturing about some historical event that no student would remember.

The bell sounded and I jumped, startled by the sound of it. I gathered my backpack and made my way out through the doorway. Just like the school I had attended last, I was the first person out of the classroom.

I walked down the hallway. It did not seem so much like a ghost town now that it was packed with students who were congregating and clogging the halls. How inconsiderate. The bell had sounded and the crowd of people that filled the hall didn't seem to thin. I was late. At least today I had the excuse I was new. I could say I had gotten lost, although it seemed impossible to get lost in a school so small.

When I had finally made it to my next class, I was surprised to find that even though the bell had rung over five minutes ago, there was hardly anyone in the classroom.

Again, I handed my schedule to the teacher. She introduced herself to me and then introduced me to her students who like my previous peers, did not seem to care that I was there. I went through the same routine with my afternoon classes as well. I had managed to accomplish one thing that day, memorizing the names of my teachers.

First Period: Mr. Smith - World History
Second Period: Mrs. Richardson - Geometry
Third Period: Mrs. Davis - Biology II
Fourth Period: Coach Sanders - P.E.
Fifth Period: Mrs. Garcia - Spanish I Sixth Period: Mrs.: Howard - English II
Seventh Period: Mrs. Jamison - Fine Arts

I wrote this down in a neat chart on a sheet of notebook paper as I waited for the bell to signal the start of seventh period. I had finally figured out how to make my way through the mass of people and be on time for my classes; brute force. You had to be rough and shove them out of the way or else they don't budge. I met with the teacher before the rest of the class had arrived, saving me some embarrassment.

The class filed in just as the bell sounded, unlike my other classes where the majority was over five minutes late. They took their seats and Mrs. Jamison began to explain a new assignment. It was just my luck that we had a group project and I didn't know anyone. Thankfully the project turned out to be something easy, or something that would be easy for me. I had already done this project at my previous school.

You will be making a piñata, she told the class. It is due four weeks from now and will be your mid-term grade. She scanned the class for any faces that look confused. It will be done during class, but if you find yourself falling behind, please inform me and I will allow you to take it home and work on it. Mrs. Jamison walked to the back of the room where there were many plastic storage bins on top of a cabinet that took up the whole back wall of the classroom. This is where your supplies are, she told us, pulling out different cabinets and showing us where certain things were.

Now, Mrs. Jamison said, cupping her hands together in front of the class, is there anyone who will volunteer to partner with Alex? She glanced around the room. No raised hands. Great, it seems that I am a lone dark soul in this school full of preps, I thought to myself, and surveyed the room again; still no hands were in the air. When I looked back at Mrs. Jamison, a smile appeared on her face. She was looking towards the back of the room. I followed her gaze to a girl dressed in dark clothing. Her shirt was black and bore the picture of one of my favorite Japanese bands, Alice Nine, and her pants were a dark jean with a rip in the knee. Her shoes caught my eye, they were the same black and white checkered vans that I was wearing. Although, I was certain that the size she wore was smaller. Her hand was raised.

Thank you Kris, she said. Now, everyone else please choose a partner and then you may begin. She walked back to her desk and left us to get started on our mid-term projects.

I sat at my desk for a moment until the chaos of people choosing partners subsided. I looked to the back of the room at the girl who had been assigned to me. So, I'm not alone. I'm not the only one like this here. I thought, as I looked at the way she was dressed, the way her hair was styled, and the way she was wearing her make-up. I hoped that the impression her looks gave off was true. I hesitated before I made my way to her.

Her head was lowered over a sketch pad and her black hair cascaded over her shoulders. I could see hints of red scattered throughout. Her eyeliner was thick, but not to an extent that it made her seem gothic. Her skin was pale; it looked very soft though.

I sat down at the desk in front of her being as quiet as I could, and hoping that I would not disturb the artist at work. Alas, I failed. She didn't seem to mind. She looked up and placed her pencil on the top of the pad. Kris, she said in a soft voice and gave a warming smile.

I was startled by her eyes. They were such a brilliant color blue, almost black. No wonder she wore her eyeliner so thickly, it suited her.

"Lex, I said, with a wide grin after a few seconds of silence.

So, she said, stressing the 'o' longer than necessary. I don't know exactly what you like, but I think we should do something like a spider or a bat. They seem like they would be easy, right?

Actually, I've already had to do this project once this year and I did a spider, if was fairly easy."
She smiled. Good. She picked up her pencil and started to shade parts of her drawing. A few minutes later she held up the sketch pad for me to see. It was a spider, very detailed and precise. She smiled again and closed the sketch book.

You know, she said, startling me by how stable her voice sounded, I have you in most of my classes.

You do? I asked.

Third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh, I think.

I guess I wasn't paying that much attention.

Yeah, I guess so. She stopped talking for a few seconds and directed her attention to the clock, Not too long 'til the bell, she informed.

I'll see you tomorrow then, I said when the bell sounded. I stood from my desk as did Kris, she gave a gentle smile, I noticed that she did that often. Around her I felt a since of belonging, that I would not have to endure the torture of this school filled with overly judgmental adolescents alone. We parted ways shortly after exciting the class room.

The walk to the bus ramp was a lonely one, as was the bus ride home. It was full of preps and jocks, basically people I didn't like at all, and to top it off, they were all being unnecessarily loud, giving me a headache. I was thankful when I was able to get off of the crowed bus and into my quiet room.

* * *

My second day at Greensville High School came too quickly for my liking. I was not at all looking forward to being stuck in classes with so many people I didn't know or desire being around.

It was a chilly morning, not so much that you had to wear a jacket, but enough for you to wear one and still remain comfortable.

I arrived at school around seven. Today, I was forced to sit outside in the commons area. The commons area was nothing more than a large slab of concrete that had some metal benches and a few plants scattered here and there.

I sat down on the cool cement by a pole close to the library entrance. There was still a little while before the bell was going to ring and I was so tired. I leaned my head back against the pole and closed my eyes for a moment. This relaxation didn't last long. I could feel a presence. I opened my eyes slowly. There were two boys around my age standing above me.

Yes, I know that many people use that phrase, but most of the time people use it as a reference to a situation, but I on the other hand and using it basically to say that classrooms all seem to look alike, but they have minuet differences that make them unique. If you have any suggestions about something that may sound better there, I'd love to hear.

I know, I am very stereotypical at this point in the story. Just keep in mind it is the rough draft. Plus the stereotypes play a big role, and I just need them to be our right for now so I can remember, but it is going to become implied, and not stated directly.

Oh, also, this is just the first part of chapter one. I finished up the rest during school today so it shouldn't be too long of a wait on that. I do tend to procrastinate though.

Another thing, sorry that there are no quotation marks where the dialog is. Before I copied and pasted this piece here there were, but I guess they were taken away when I pasted, and I didn't notice until just now actually. I'm guessing that it was easy enough for you to figure out what was dialog since you didn't state that as most people often do. I guess they think that I purposely didn't put it.

Thanks tons for your review.

Thanks.
Well, this story was inspired by a friend of mine who moved to our school and everyone seemed to be mean to him.
So, it got my creative juices flowing.

I know.
Read the posts about if you haven't already about why I have so many obvious stereotypical things right now.

And no, they don't start dating and live happily ever after. Actually I'm not even positive I they will date or anything.

It has murder in it. So think on that.

I'm not good at explaining things otherwise I would. But if there is anything you want to know be sure an ask.