I should probably start from the beginning. When I was 8, I moved to Texas from New York. It was quite a difference. My mom got a big job opportunity, but she never told me what it was. We bought this house, from the moment I entered it I hated it. It was like a lifeless void, waiting to swallow you whole and take your soul, your happiness and your love. I soon found that to be true. I don't know if it was because of the stress of my mom's new job or the house, she always said her job was too easy, effortless. After we moved in my parents stopped talking to me as much as they used to. They also stopped loving each-other and even me, though I doubt they loved me in the first place. I discovered a part of the house that was free and uplifting, it was the perfect room, my parents wanted to make it into a storage room and let me have the biggest room but I refused, the attic had three skylights and two window seats, one to look out at the world from and one to have my bed next to.
When my parents told me I was going to a private school called High Hill Academy, at first I thought that if it was a private school, there wouldn't be backstabbing bullies, who had everyone on their side, I thought that people would be caring and use their riches to benefit others. But I was horribly wrong. The girls acted kind and smart in class so the teachers wouldn't suspect anything, but outside class they rolled their skirts up and flirted with the boys, flaunting their looks, going to the toilet and admiring themselves vainly in the mirror, updating their Instagram profile. The boys on the other hand took advantage of the younger girls mostly, whatever they did to them could be fixed with a good old lawsuit and lots of under the counter cash. But this only applies to me later in my school years at preppy school.
When I started 3rd grade, I noticed that Ally didn't fit in with her friends, they were narcissistic, insolent mean girls; but but she was kind and was always smiling, being kind to the kids who her friends hurt, they envied her. And she knew that. One day, I went to the toilet to eat my lunch and they followed me. They kicked down the door and slapped me and laughed at me on the floor with my lunch scattered in the toilet. Ally shouted at them and told the teacher but the teacher did nothing. My parents forgot to pick me up, as usual and I saw Ally was waiting too, I will always remember the first sentence she said to me, "you can be my friend, I'm sorry for what those girls did. But people like me a lot so you can be friends with me, but only if you like skittles." From then on we went to each others houses every other day, and Skittles was our go-to snack. On my 11th birthday I started feeling like I was being watched, followed, listened to. Ally became weird around me, she was quiet and she didn't dress up as much she just wore her hoodie. I started to think she had something to do with how I felt.
3 months after my birthday I decided to tell her. She told me that she felt the same way and thought that I had something to do with how she felt, we both started speaking quieter and sat in busier places so no one could hear us. We always walked home together, after all she moved houses next to me. She said that she got the same vibe as I did from my house.