It is the sky, that shows us how far we can go.

It is the stars, that can predict our next decision.

It is the clouds, that hide reality even from the biggest thinkers.

It is the rain, that shows there are other emotions besides happiness.

It is the sun, that tells us there will always be beginings.

It is the moon, that tells us endings always come.

It is the planets, that shows us we are never alone.

It is an orbit, that shows us the bond of friendship.

It is a solar system, where many things can be found.

I do not understand why you look at me like that.

Why you pretend I am not there until you have no one else to turn to.

I do not understand why I am your last resort.

I know kind people, funny people, rude people, interesting people, odd people, tall people, small people.

I do not understand why we are all different.

I do not understand why you do not love this.

Our differences are what make us human.

I do not understand why you think this is wrong.

Welcome to the world, welcome to the generation of change, welcome to the time of accepting, welcome to the world.

Please do not think that the world revolves around you. It does not.

Please do not think that we all want to hear. Maybe the noise hurts us.

Please do not act like we very much care. We all have different interests.

Please do not tell lies to my face. Especially if I know they’re not true.

Please do not make jokes about things that are not a joking matter.

Please do not be mean.

Please do not be catty.

Please do not make snarky comments.

Please do not look at me as if I am not human, even if that is what you think.

Please do not think you should not stop doing your crimes.

Please do not laugh when I expirience pain, it makes it worse.

Please do not put on a mask, if I know your true identity.

Please do call me awful names, when you know I hate it.

Please do not look me in the eyes and tell me it is not you doing these things...

you never know do you.

She can fly, and doesn't not wish to touch the ground.

She likes the sky, and she never wishes to leave.

She sees a world of peace from the sky.

She leaves at night flying from her rooftop, she touches the stars.

When she hits back down to the ground...

the beauty she saw was gone.

"What a wonderful world... that we have ruined," said the shadows.

So she flew, never coming back... the world she knew changed forever.

She waits

She wants

The words she will never hear

"You can, you will"

She worries, but no one knows

She cries when she is angry

She screams when she is frustrated

She is human

She has she a dream to fly.

She has a dream to not be seen, but heard

She wants to be heard

She wants to succed

She wants

She waits

For the words that needn't be told

"She can, she has"

And yet, she still can not be heard.

Please do not think that the world revolves around you. It does not.

Please do not think that we all want to hear. Maybe the noise hurts us.

Please do not act like we very much care. We all have different interests.

Please do not tell lies to my face. Especially if I know they’re not true.

Please do not make jokes about things that are not a joking matter.

Please do not be mean.

Please do not be catty.

Please do not make snarky comments.

Please do not look at me as if I am not human, even if that is what you think.

Please do not think you should not stop doing your crimes.

Please do not...

Now you want to laugh.

You draw the paper back to face you.

I would prefer to call you

Orabelle.

She takes the paper back.

My mother named me Orabelle

because she loved the sound of

the waves. Please call be Bella.

She hands you the paper.

I do not think you look like

a Bella.

Truth be told she does not.

Her hair is bright red and her eyes are ocean blue.

Her now white skin is covered in freckles.

You continue to write.

You look like an Orabelle.

Like you were born to live

by the ocean.

Her lifts her eyebrows as if in suprise.

Are you hitting on me.

She writes it down. As you see the letters a laugh escapes from your mouth.

She does not hear the laugh, but her expression tells you that she knows what you are doing.

No offense. But not you.

You write the message down, and look over at a boy.

He is the one that you like.

She would not understand.

I am born eight days late.

I celebrate my first halloween and christmas.

I am one.

My brother is born.

I am two.

I split my forehead open on a door.

I am three.

I begin to dance.

My parents divorce.

I move.

I am four.

I begin preschool and make friends.

I am five.

I begin to play soccer.

I begin kindergaren and make new friends.

I begin to read.

I am six.

I am in a class with no one I know.

I make new friends.

I read.

My youngest brother is born

I am seven.

I complete the first book in the Harry Potter series.

I am eight.

I read.

I quit playing soccer.

I am nine.

I make new friends.

I audition for the school play.

I read.

I am ten.

I LOVE school.

I read.

I am eleven.

I enter middle school.

I become quiet and reserved.

I discover my love for science.

I make new friends.

I read.

I am twelve.

I make new friends and become more talkative.

I read.

I am thirteen.

I make new friends.

I begin to talk a lot more.

I read.

I LOVE school.

You are left staring there.

Wondering.

Wondering why, on Earth, she would not want a friend.

You stand there for a moment or two. Turn on your heel...

and leave.

You have been dreading this moment for four hours.

You are entering the one period you hate.

The dreaded lunch.

Some would call this the period of freedom, for you though it is an oppurtunity to read (you can do that any old time)

You stand at the door.

Books clutched in your arms, you make your way to the first empty table you see.

The table in the back, next to the windows.

Inbetween two tables that no one else is filling.

You sit here, open a book, and begin to eat.

The only book to clense you spirits at this moment: Harry Potter

You are reading it for the umpteenth time.

You pause in your actions of turning to your favorite chapter "The Journey from Platform 9 3/4".

You look up.

She is there.

Staring at you.

You can not help to smile.

You take out another piece of paper, and begin to write.

Hello, I did not catch you name.

She takes the piece of paper and begins to write.

Well that would make sense.

I never told it to you.

You take the piece of paper back.

What is it?

She smiles as you write. Reading upside down.

As soon as you are done, she swipes the paper back from you.

Well since you feel it so.

neccesarry for you to know.

My name is Orabelle.

You may call me Bella.