• Hello. My name is Farrah. At this point in time I am hiding in an alley to get away from the pressures. It was a long journey before I got here, and this is my story:

    I woke up at dawn on January 24. The air in my room was cold from the window. I looked at the calender. I sighed and got out of bed to dress up and pack the rest of my things. Today was the day that we would move to America. We lived in Japan at the time, and it was the middle of the school year in America. I just knew I wouldn't fit in. I had long, dark, and pure black hair that flowed down to my knees. My eyes were a majestic brown, and my skin was fair. Then my mother rushed in.
    "Farrah! Farrah darling, are you ready? The plane leaves in an hour and your father is so anxious to see his parents. Let's go, sweetheart!"
    I hurried out the door, got in the car, and looked back at our house. It was a plain, two story house, but I lived in it since I was little. I was sad to leave, but I knew if we didn't, my dad would be so sad. We were moving to America because my dad's parents got sick from an unknown disease. They were going to die soon, so my parents wanted to be there. I wondered why we couldn't just visit America, but they wouldn't let me argue, and I knew it was final. I watched our house until it disappeared. I would miss Japan.
    The plane ride was long. I was depressed from leaving Japan, and I couldn't take the fact that I would have to witness another death. Four years ago, when I was 12, my 4 year old sister, Anna, died from an unknown disease. It was hard on my family, and especially me. She was my best friend, and I loved her more than anything in the world. Now I thought it was the same disease that my grandparents had, and it was just too sad to think about it. Then, we landed.
    I walked off the plane and the air was freezing. The cold air stung my cheeks and ears. My dad got all of our luggage, and then we were on our way to our new home. My parents said we moved to the state, Massachusetts. It was busy until we turned off the main road, then found ourselves in a neighborhood with large houses that looked almost exactly alike. The house was nice, and my room had a great view of a beautiful garden, part of the park in our neighborhood. But then I saw the fourth bedroom. It was empty. It had all the furniture, but it was so plain. Then the memories came back.
    Me and my sister were playing before the day she left. But then she fell, and she was taken to the hospital. She was tested, but her diagnoses was a mystery. Then the next day, I was sitting beside her. She was asleep, but then she woke up. Then she said, "Fairwah, this is for Fairwah." She opened her little hand, and in it was a key. "What? Where did you get that?" I said, with heavy eyes. Then she took my hand and pushed the key in my palm. Then she said, "I love you Fairwah." Then she smiled her gentle smile, and left.
    I didn't want to remember it so I ran outside. I cried and yelled out, "Why have you done this!?" then I fell. My parents saw me, but gave me some space. They knew I was depressed from all the pressures. I hugged the key that she gave me. It hung around my neck at all times. Then, when I opened my eyes, there was a boy looking at me. He looked about my age, and was very handsome. I suddenly felt shy and turned to run back in the house, but in an instant he caught up to me.