With knots in my stomach, and my palms dripping sweat, I continued up the stairway to the entrance of my new school. Not quite sure where the office was, I asked a nearby student, and they directed me down the hall to the right. My family and I had just relocated, again, due to my inability to handle my problems. Problems that no normal person would have. Problems that even I shouldn’t have been cursed with. So here I am in halls of Eatonville High, in Eatonville, Washington. Definitely not my favorite place to have lived, a small town with constantly overcast skies and rain.
 Coming up the office door I took a deep breath and opened it and peered it. The secretary, a small women with a tight bun on the top of her head, and tiny beady eyes greeted me with a tight, unfriendly smile. I hesitated and stepped up to her desk,
“Hello, Can I help you?,” were her first words in a formal, unemotional tone
“Yes, This is my first day, and I was told to come to the office to receive my schedule.” I replied, in the same tone. My last concern was this small woman who could not bring an ounce of sincerity to her eyes.
“Yes, What is your name?”
“Heaven, Heaven James,” Odd name I know, my parents decided on it the second I was born. They said I looked like a little ounce of Heaven that had come down to bless them. Although I should have been named Hell, after everything I have put them through in my long 17 years.
“Okay Heaven, here is your schedule, your first class is math, and its down this corridor to your right, then take a left and it’s the 4th door on your right. Your teacher is Mrs.Wicker.”
  I took the schedule from her hand and walked out, thankful for finally getting away from the frigid old woman. Looking at my schedule I grimaced. Math, Art, Science, English, Lunch, German, History. The bell rang and I watched kids scatter off like little mice in different directions to there classes. I followed the secretaries directions to my first class. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the teacher, who I knew as Mrs.Wicker. A large woman, with sincere brown eyes. She looked up from her desk at me and smiled, a warm smile that made me feel comfortable with my surroundings.  
“Well hello! You must be Heaven! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mrs. Wicker and I will be your math teacher.”
She had such cheer and sincerity in her voice, I knew already I was going to like this class. The whole room suddenly got very quiet and everyone’s attention seemed to be focused on me.
“Now everyone, this is Heaven James,” I gave a small tight smile, conscious of myself with so many different pairs of eyes staring at me.
“ Okay Heaven, you can go have a seat back there in the back next to Alice.” She handed me my math book, and I looked back to where I would be sitting. I saw a rather small girl with brown hair. She has a light air about her. Immediately I could sense something was different about this girl. I walked through the rows and took my seat.
“Hi, I’m Alice Cullen.” she gave me a kind, cheery smile. “As has been announced, I’m sure you already know I’m Heaven.” I smiled back. There was just something different about this girl that I could not pinpoint. I studied her a little more closely. Her eyes, she had very strange eyes, they were golden brown, almost completely gold. Another thing that came to my speculation was her skin, she was very pale, but radiated beauty. I noticed she had on nice clothing, nicer than most of the people I had seen so far. I decided to let it go and focused my attention on Mrs.Wicker.
         About thirty minutes into our lesson, Mrs.Wicker asked us to get out our compasses. I reached into my book back and searched through my things. Alice leaning towards me doing the same thing, looked up and gave me a small smile. “Ouch” I yelped, I felt the sharp end of the compass pierce my skin. I pulled back my finger and looked down at it, the pain gone now and the blood looked as if it was being sucked back into my finger, and the hole suddenly disappeared. This being no shock to me, I resumed getting my compass and pulled it out of my book bag. Looking back up I saw the look of utter shock and amazement in Alice’s face. The first thought to hit my mind was the fact that I already would be, once again, moving. It was only my first day!
          It was going to happen, I knew it was, but I didn’t it would be realize nearly this soon. At all of the 21 schools I have attended in my lifetime something has always happened like this. My “problem” or better yet my curse, has kept me from living a normal life. My parents had always thought I was just more advanced, smarter than most kids my age. I discovered I was different when I was merely 3 years old. I remember lying in bed, sick with a cold, my mother was in the kitchen cooking me some soup. I had a high temperature, and my whole body ached. My nose was pouring like a sap tree, but I did not have the strength in me to get up to get a tissue. I continually kept staring at the box of tissues, simply willing them to come to me. Suddenly, the box lifted up. I screamed, and my mom came running in, I thought that there had been a ghost in my room. My mom calmed me down, assured me it was only my fever causing me to imagine things. Come to find out it was far from that. That’s when everything started. That’s when I realized I could move things with my mind, when I realized that if I was cut, burned, stung, slapped it only hurt for a second and healed on its own. That was when I realized that I could put up something similar to a force field around myself, preventing anything or anyone from touching me. I did this often as a child, like a caterpillar wrapping itself up into its cocoon. All of this causing us to relocate frequently. My parents didn’t want society to look at me as a freak, so they never mentioned my problems to any doctor or psychiatrist. It was simply kept between them and I.  
        In elementary school, I would fall and get scraped and it would heal on its own, all it would take was one person to see, and no more than 3 days later we were up and gone, on to start a new life somewhere else. Once in the seventh grade a girl tried to push me, but was caught off guard when her hand connected with air and simply stopped. Two day later we were gone. My most recent incident, which caused us to land in this small town was due to a boy slapping his girlfriend in the face at my house, my anger quickly got the best of me and I accidentally threw the boy 10 feet across the room into a wall. Only it was not with my hands, I simply willed it to happen. This resulted with a broken arm and fifteen stitches in the back of his head. That how we found ourselves here, in Eatonville.
      The  bell rang and quickly pulled me out of the trance I was in, and the real alarm bells rose in my head when I looked over to see Alice still staring at me, this time with a strange, different look on her face. A look of wonder, but not the same kind of look that most people would get, a more understanding look. I decided to let this one go, and not mention it to my parents, and hope that it would come to pass. Hope that she would think she was hallucinating instead of seeing something miraculous happen to my finger. Giving her a quick smile I threw my book bag over my shoulder, and headed out of the classroom to my next class.