Help. My head is battered and I can’t see. I scream for help but nothing comes out, only a short gasp. I regain my vision. There is a blurry outline of a man. He notices that I am awake and starts yelling something. I only hear the searing sound of my ears ringing. The man stops yelling picks up a knife and walks toward me.
“ Ms. Montgomery! Madison!” yells Mr. Hackett. “What…” I say with a tired voice. “What is  the  answer to number three?”
The accident was scarring. Its left me with nightmares and sleepless nights. I zone out all the time. Remembering his meaty face and his sweaty palms. I even stopped going to school for a while, it was too hard to focus after everything I had been through. Eventually my parents started making me go to school again. But its still hard, all the therapists, doctors, and crazys claim they can help me. But they can’t, they don’t know me. They don’t know what really happened. I didn’t tell the police everything. But every night I tell myself the story over and over with every detail until I can’t take it and fall asleep crying.
“x = -13!”, Maddie yelled out. Mr. Hackett gave me a disapproving look then went back to calling out names. Shortly after, the bell rang signaling the end of period three. I quickly run out of the room. I hate Mr. Hackett he reminds me of someone but I can’t remember who. I hate the thought of him. Next, gym. Gym actually isn’t that bad. All the other girls complain about having to change and getting sweaty and ruining their makeup. They all walk in a crowd updating each other on the latest gossip. I just run. By myself of course. I love feeling the cold breeze against my face and arms. I love the fresh air. I missed out on it for a month.
Ms. T says I’m one of her fastest runners and that I should join the cross country team. She tells me this everyday, and I respond the same way each day, no I can’t. Then quickly run away before she can ask why.
Next period I go to the nurse and I tell her I don’t feel good. She says she doesn’t  “buy my act”, but still checks my temperature in case. You could say I’m really good at this faking it thing now. You have to maneuver your tongue so that you can slide the thermometer out then breathe very deeply on it (making it hot), then quickly slide it back under your tongue before she sees you. She says I am sick but that I should stay in school. I have already missed too much school this year. The school’s number of allowed absences before you have to stay another year is 40 days. I have been absent for 37.
But what do I have to lose? Everyone already thinks I’m a freak. Everyone, except Taylor. We’ve been friends for almost our whole lives. We met at daycare and the rest is history. She had a “complete breakdown” when I was away. Atleast thats what my mom tells me. Taylor is my only friend. She is the only one who knows what actually happened. I think the accident made us closer, definitely.
“Madison, Madison, Madison, Madison, Madison”, I suddenly snap out of another daze. Somehow I have gone from the bed in the nurses office into the hallway on the other side of the school and Taylor is trying to get me to skip class with her. I say yes but only because I don’t know if I could live through another lecture from Ms. Darban about how “instrumental” Shakespeare was in the theater. “What class are you skipping?” I ask. “Gym”, then I lecture her about how much I love gym. We walk into the huge library. There is a class being taught in the far right corner. The librarian asks us for our pass, “ Oh, Ms. McKann ran out of passes she said we could just come anyways.” We walk away quietly. I sit down at one of the desktops and type in the url for Mr. Hackett's website. I start doing the online test he is making us do for homework. “Is he really making us do one of those stupid tests again, ugh.” A door slams. “Sorry!” says Charlie. The librarian shushes him and shoos him away. He walks over and tells me that Ms. Darban knows I’m in the library and that I need to come back to class now. I tell Taylor that this is the seventh class that I’ve skipped with her and that I have to go back or Ms. Darban will give me a detention. I walk slowly down to room 209. Then I walk into the room awkwardly closing the creaky door. Then shuffle to the empty seat in the back.
When class ends Ms. Darban motions for me to come talk to her. “ Madison, you have to stop skipping class. I don’t know how much more makeup work I can give you. You are just going to end up unhappy and buried in work. If you miss another class, I am going to have to give you a detention. I would hate to have to do that.” I say sorry and run out of the classroom.
Teachers don’t understand how uncomfortable school is for me. Everyone is obsessed with the same things and the teachers actually think there classes are interesting to people like me. But no, they aren’t.
During fifth period my migraines hit me like a stone wall. I have no idea how science induced my migraines. But it did. Maybe its Annie clicking her pen constantly or Keisha cracking her knuckles. Ms. Baker just blabs on while my head gets pounded with a hammer. No one can tell when I’m in that much pain because I don’t show it, but inside it hurts. And it won’t go away. At the end of the period I run out of the room and all the way to the nurses office where she rolls her eyes and asks me what it is now. I tell her what it feels like and she checks my file again and says that I should drink some water and lay down for a while.
I wake up to the sound of coughing. Someone else just came into the nurses office. Its Charlie. Charlie, I’ve known him since first grade. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, more like acquaintances. We talk sometimes but he still thinks I’m weird. He is probably the only boy that I’ve talked to since I came back. The nurse notices that I’m awake and says that I should go back to class now and that 8th period is going to end in 25 minutes.
I get up and walk to the door. Slowly I make my way up to the fourth floor for art. When I get there everyone is sitting working on their clay pots mine is still half a pot, untouched since one month ago. Everyone else is working on a new type of pot or just finished. I walk over and grab my half of a pot and almost drop it when I get another, worse, migraine. I act like nothing happened and walk quickly over to an empty chair and try to fix what has been squashed by other pots and binders on top of it. There is no hope. I roll a new slab and piece it together to make a lopsided pot with wrinkles and globs of clay in some places. I put a glaze on it and tell the teacher (I’ve forgotten her name by now) I am finished. She puts on a fake smile and tells me its very abstract and that she loves how it tells a “beautiful story”. I know this kind of thing. The teachers have all been told what happened and that they have to be especially nice to the weird girl. I thank her and put it on the ready to fire table. I start drawing the sketch for my new pot, halfway through the bell rings.The ring sets off in alarm in my brain and my migraines increase in intensity and I fall to the ground, my head smacking the side of the table then quickly but all at once hitting the hard floor.

I wake up to the sound of beeping. A nurse is checking my blood pressure and notices that I’m awake. She calls my doctor in and he tells me what happened. “Well, Madison, we don’t actually know what happened. All we know is that you were having a migraine and then passed out. You also have a concussion”
Great, a concussion another way to keep me insane. Having a concussion means you sit around all day doing nothing, you can’t sleep, watch TV, read, or do anything. For the next two weeks all I’ll be able to do is sit around and think about that man. And what he did to me and her.

The next two weeks were a blur. Doctors appointments, a couple visits from Taylor, more migraines, a dentist appointment, and at the end, lots of homework.
My mom got me a tutor. She is always complaining that I never do any of my homework and that I have literally pounds of missing assignments on my desk all dating back to December 2, the day I left. She is right though, I haven’t even attempted to start all the work I missed.
The next day an overly positive college-aged girl shows up at our doorstep. She introduces herself as Ariana. My mom and I walk with her into our family room. They sit down on the sofa and my mom shoos me out of the room like a dog. I don’t want to know what they’re talking about anyways. Twenty minutes later my mom calls me down again. I talk to Ariana about all the work I need to make up, she nods. She says she can help me. After about an hour of planning and talking, Ariana leaves.
Over the weekend Taylor and I go to the mall and buy candy from the candy manor in the center of the mall. After, we go back to Taylors house and watch Pretty Little Liars (our favorite show) for 3 hours.
Then my mom called me and said I needed to come home because it’s a school night. Yes, I have to go back to school now, my two weeks have expired.

It is Monday morning, I roll out of bed and cry for half an hour. Then I pull myself together and put on jeans and a sweater. I run downstairs put a bagel in the toaster, it takes three minutes to toast. In the three minutes I brush my teeth, brush my hair, and wash my face. When I get downstairs my dad is just leaving for work and my mom is sitting eating breakfast. I run over to the toaster, the bagel is only slightly burnt - a new record! I tell my mom I’ll wait in the car for her. When I get in the car its like stepping into an igloo. The chair freezing, colder and colder by the second.
The basement was like winter within itself. The concrete floor like a slab of ice. The AC running full blast but no way to turn it off. Wrapping myself in anything I could find strewn on the floor.
Suddenly the door flew open. I screamed. It was just my mom. She didn’t say anything just turned on the engine and we drove off. The drive was quiet. Kind of nice but when we got to school the quiet ended and the dread started. We fought for about 10 minutes until she won and I got out of the car.
The day was slow. Lots and lots of homework assignments. Missed work. Hellos from people who feel sorry for me, lots of hugs from Taylor, an awkward talk with Charlie, and another migraine.
When the last bell rings I feel fine and walk out of the classroom. When I get to my locker my phone is buzzing from inside my backpack. Its from my mom, “You have a doctor’s appt. after school meet me in the back parking lot.” I respond with, “k”. When I get to the parking lot I spot her car and run over to it. I hop in.
“How was your day?” You mean how was being a loser and not understanding anything at school day? “Fine.” I say.
When we get to the hospital my mom parks in the parking garage and we walk to the 3rd floor west wing waiting room. I’ve become a pro at finding my way around the hospital.
The appointment went smoothly, nothing was wrong. When we were leaving I saw Charlie walking in. For a second I thought about turning around and asking him why he was here. But I come to my senses and kept walking. When we get to the car my mom talks about how well the appointment went and that she is glad I’m getting better.
Once I’m home Taylor is at my door and yells at me for ditching her. “I thought we were going to my house after school?” I apologize. But she walks away before I get to the door.
The next day at school, Taylor doesn’t talk to me. The only people I talk to the whole day is the nurse and Charlie. Charlie asks if I’m okay. I say yes but I would rather be at home doing nothing. He laughs and walks away. I run up to him and ask him why he was at the hospital yesterday.
He tells me that brain cancer runs in his family genes and that he has to get it checked out every month, so that if he develops it they can catch it and stop it.
“Cool” I say. “Well actually not really.” I laugh nervously and we start talking about Mr Hackett's new haircut and how it makes him look slightly like a conehead.
After school I rush home to get there in time for Ariana. On the way there Taylor runs up behind me and asks me about Charlie, “So are you guys like a thing?” I respond like I have no idea what shes talking about. “Oh, come one, you can’t deny this!” I talk about how I am completely in love with my cat and that I don’t have room in my heart for a boy. We laugh until we get home.
I don’t realize it until I walk in the front door but wasn’t Taylor mad at me? I shake it off. I’m just happy we’re over it.
My mom says that Ariana isn’t here yet, so I run up to my room to play on my phone but become too distracted by the honking out front. Which is weird considering I don’t live close to any busy streets. After all Wellesley is a pretty quiet town. But I ignore it and try to organize my papers for when Ariana comes.
When the doorbell rings I hear my mom answer and I come downstairs with a pile of papers. We quickly make our way over to the den where I put down all my papers and we begin working.
When we finish I have a full sheet of paper filled with questions to ask my teachers so that I can complete the missing work. For example, What is scientific notation? What did African Americans do in the civil war? What was shakespeares family life like? What is kinetic energy? And tons of other questions Ariana didn’t know the answers to. In the end of the two and a half hours I had done about 10 worksheets and one test.
The next day, I handed them in and asked my teachers questions. My teachers said annoying things like, “I’m so glad you came for help!”, “ I love how much effort you’re putting in!”
Its all cheesy and annoying. At lunch Taylor talks about Charlie and how I should so date him. “ Whats the problem? I mean he obviously likes you, you like him, and he is perfect! So ask him out.” But the truth is I can’t. I can’t get close to anyone or form special bonds anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone.
My migraines are worsening and I don’t know how much longer I have here on this world. The doctors are clueless and don’t know what to do. I’ve never told anyone this but after one of my MRIs I heard my mom talking to Dr. Nixon. He said there is nothing we can do and that I will eventually die from this. The migraines are slowly picking apart my brain and tossing the little bits into the trash never to be found or used again. My head was too damaged after the accident.

I still remember the other one. I never told anyone about her. He told me he would find a way to kill me if I ever told. He was only charged with one battery assault charge. Because there was only one of us or at least thats what they think. He killed her. But I’m the only one that knows. He was going to kill me to, but then they found me. Alive.
“Oh shutup.” Taylor says. “We all know you’re gonna live forever or at least until you’re too old to know how old you are.”
After school I walk the whole way home with Charlie. Taylor was right I do like him, but I would never tell her that. The whole time we talk about Dr. Nixon and his serious need for better jokes and deodorant.
When he turns to walk onto the Brook Path we say bye and maybe for a second he kissed me? I don’t know you’ll have to ask the old ladies that watched it.
I love him. I love Charlie Rowe. But I can’t get close to him. I will make him depressed. Well maybe I should try to live normally and just see what happens. What if I don’t die and I have just spent my whole life avoiding people. Maybe I’ll try it. Just for Charlie, Charlie Rowe, the love of my pathetic life.
During the whole ride to school Taylor is texting me. “What happened” “WAs it good” “When did you guys kiss???” Apparently Jessica Monroe was walking behind us and saw it all from behind one of her neighbors bushes.
When my mom stops the car, which tells me I need to get out, I prepare myself for the questions I will soon be bombarded with. And for the strain that will be put on Charlie and I. Will he deny it? Will he think I’m crazy and told everyone?
I get out of the car and  walk over to the sidewalk and cross the street. I thank the crossing guard. Suddenly a car comes out of nowhere and