Author note- Okay, right. This may be off because I�m not into the whole cutting thing. I�m surmising from what happens with normal cuts, and thinking it should be the same thing right? O.o A cut�s a cut. And as for the pairing� Chill. You�ll survive.



   Crimson beaded and slid in a tender journey down a pale, exposed limb, sapphire eyes regarding it with dull uncaring. Light, unmarked arms loosely held the arched leg, the girl�s chin rested on the raised knee, eyes half-closed and lifeless. Dark chocolate hair hung around her shoulders, shielding her face and draped across her back. Sighing softly, her fingers held a small, jagged piece of glass and she now placed it to the skin at her leg once more. She pressed and pulled back, drawing the misshapen shard across her leg, letting the faint burn of the cut sting against her high pain threshold.
   Silently she did this endlessly, staring dully at the display of crimson decorating her limb. Reluctantly she let her pant leg slip back down, not caring about the stain seeping through the jean material. Sighing, she rose, a little shakily from lack of food, and rest, walking easily to her desk she sat heavily in the chair and turned to her black bag, fighting to remove her Algebra 2 book from its� grasp. Once she had retrieved her homework, she set the book easily on the desk, leaning back in her chair to look at it, glancing around for a pencil.
   Within ten minutes she lost the motivation to do her work, slammed the text book closed and tossed it away from her, the object landed easily on her bed, pages fluttering.
   �Forget it,� she muttered, her voice silky, though laced with exhaustion. �It can wait until the morning.�

   The morning did come, a golden orb of flames and warmth rising above the horizon, casting out its rays to bring life to the cool wasteland of night. The waves reached across the nation, stretching over Illinois, Ohio, and Michigan, even over the small village of Birch Run, however the heart-warming sunrise did not affect the dark interior of Amaya�s room. Her dark walls abandoning light, her heavy curtains discouraging the interference of dawn�s first light, the only semblance of wakefulness in the dim surroundings a small lamp desk blazing brightly in the dusky shadows. However, Amaya already sat awake at her desk, the number two pencil in her hand tapping idly against her books� binding. She stared down at the work, numbers and letters mixing together, symbols and formulas demanding her attention, but she looked through it, dark blue eyes gazing far off, into another world.
   Closing her eyes, she thought of the equation, drawing her mind to it and forcing herself to focus on the work at hand, and soon she caught herself wandering another plane, off-task as usual. The world was the same as always; cast dark by rain, the misting constant and warm, the inhabitants angels, and demons and dragons. A world of fantasy and bizarre happenings�not a boring world of continual dismay and�
   The irate buzz of her alarm clock brought her back to her surroundings and she exhaled heavily, azure pools half-opening to glare at the steadily growing taunt of her alarm. She blinked, noting the red numbers glaring 6:50 a.m. at her. She scowled back, throwing her book into her bag and slinging the heavy, taunt material over her back, flicking off her light and leaving the confines of her room for the shining world of hypocrisy and denial.

   Inara took a deep breath, wavy, light brown hair falling just past her shoulders. Her hazel eyes had a gentle, refreshed look and her smile was bright as she readied herself to enter her new school. She was about five feet and eight inches tall, and obtained a 3.8 grade point average. At the moment, she was well-rested and a little worried, but ready for the change. Ready for a new life. Ready to get away from what she had been. She sighed, her smile fading for a moment as her eyes lowered and she covered her heart with her hand. Every heart holds some darkness, she thought. No one escapes unscathed. �Inara?� a male voice called, echoing against the hallway walls and she looked up to see the principal strolling toward her. He was a middle-aged man, balding, yet he had a kindly face and wore a handsome smile. She returned it, beaming at him.
   �Yes sir?�
   He smiled, encouraged by her enthusiasm.
   �Your classroom is this way, please follow me.�
   �Thank you, sir.�

   Amaya groaned, a pencil twirling delicately across her fingers and she shifted, straightening a little as the coarse material of her dark jeans brushed over the slashes across her legs. Her head was propped against her other hand, her eyes half-closed and she was almost sleeping now as Mr. Vinard�s voice droned on and on over the Civil War. She couldn�t care less about that which had already happened, and so she dreamt. Her mind traveled to the same world as always, cerulean pools slipping calmly shut while inside her heart sank a little more.
   This world, she thought. This world will never be mine. I�ll never get the chance to explore it because it�s not real. There�s no point in dreaming about what won�t happen� She released her pent-up breath in a quiet sigh, eyes still shut, mind still wandering. The fields were green, gently swaying by the will of an invisible hand of the wind and lakes glistened with impervious beauty. Imaginary creatures journeyed the astonishing land, its secrets undiscovered, and it�s pleasures mysterious. There was thunder rolling in the east, and she looked sharply to catch a glimpse of lightning�
   But instead, her world deserted her, and in place of a heavy mountain range she saw bricks painted a peeling yellow, that of decay. A person stood in the doorway, wearing modest blue jeans and a dark hooded shirt, the hood resting on her shoulders in accordance with school policy. Amaya looked the girl over, taking in splendid earthen hair catching the fluorescent lighting perfectly on faint natural highlights, she glanced to the nondescript outfit, regarding it with little precision and then looked to her face. She watched as the girl looked to the boring Mr. Vinard and smiled pleasingly, her hazel eyes sparkling with a quiet joy.
   Amaya smiled, faintly.

   The bell screeched, harsh and stunning at the end of third hour, and Inara stood, gathering her books into one arm, the other hand rubbing her temples and she sighed, her smile still faintly across her face. She left the room, crowded between high-school students eager to get away from their classes, to meet up with friends and chat the lunch hour away. Inara pauses, hesitating in the hallway, amidst the hustle of the teenagers, biting her bottom lip softly as her placid eyes took in that about her. She raised her hand to ask directions from a nearby student, but froze as a pale hand rested on her forearm.
   �What?�
   The girl was about an inch taller than her, and she had dark hair with stunning blue eyes. Inara forced herself to blink, almost afraid to be lost within the solemn depths. Hazel left cobalt in a quick scan of the taller girl�s clothing and found casual black jeans and an easy black shirt with a sarcastic �I Bite Back� scrawled over it in messy white lettering.
   �What do you need,� Inara asked again, somewhat startled. The girl shrugged and replied, �Nothing. But come on, I�ll help you find your way to the lunch line. You look lost.�
   Just like that, she turned, weaving through the crowd, and Inara found herself hard-pressed to keep up with her. She reached ahead, her hand seizing the other girls� hand to keep track of her, and for a moment, she seemed to stop and the world paused with them. All warmth in the world narrowed down to the body heat convulsing between their hands, all sound faded to a faint ache in the back of Inara�s mind.

   Amaya hesitated, feeling a small, warm hand grasp her own, and felt immediately that her world had lessened to that small circle, to that girl�s hand within her own. Then time resumed and people pressed pass them, threatening to pull the two apart.
   Amaya took the girl�s hand, and pressed on, moving easily between the people, leading her companion to the cafeteria. She then turned to her and spoke again.
   "My name's Amaya."