Eight- New Year's Eve It's New Year's Eve and like any other time, I had nothing to do. My mom decided to get another job to help pay the bills, so I'm always home alone now. I'm laying on my bed, reading when there's a knock at the door. I really hope it's not Christopher. I don't even look somewhat decent today. After setting my book down, I open the front door to find a note taped to the door. I look around for any sign of someone or at least a car. I close the door and sit on the sofa as I open the envelope. The letter is written in really bad, scratchy cursive. It reads: Dear Outcast, If you do not stop what you are doing I will be forced to take matter into my own hands. I will make sure you suffer from immense emotional pain and physical. You are a no one and you need to stay like that. Just the sight of you disgusts me. Stop what you are doing or you will die. Sincerely, Your Enemy Well, I'm not sure what to think about this. I walk ice to my nightstand in my room and shove it into the drawer, along with the other five notes I've gotten over break. This is the worst yet. It's first one that involves an actual threat. I can't let anyone see these. I can handle it myself. I read some more and end up finishing my book....again. I let out a sigh and make clicking noises with my tongue for about a good five minutes until there's a knock at the door. I groan and get up, opening the front door. Those dark eyes gaze at mine once more. "Hey," Chris says, "So, I was wondering if you had any plans for today..." I shake my head, "No. Not really." He smiles brightly, "Awesome! Then, will you care to join me and my parents for dinner and stay until midnight for New Years? That is if you want." My ears can't comprehend what he's saying. Everything is just muffled. A lump forms in my throat as I feel my hand start to get sweaty. He's inviting me to dinner with his parents? He's not embarrassed to be seen with me? This can't be true! I need someone to so me right now. I nod, trying to act like my head isn't about to explode. "Um, y-yeah, that'd be nice," I say, "I'd like that a lot." He looks at me with a baffled expression. God, I can feel my face burning. I feel like I need to charge outside and bury my face in the snow. "Wow, really? Great. I'll pick you up at six tonight. See you tonight, Mary." He turn and gets into his car, driving away. I close the door and stand there. What the hell just happened? I bury my face in my pillow and scream. Oh my god! What am I going to do? I don't know how to look girly! I look at my alarm clock, it's 2:30 right now. I have three and a half hours to figure something out. I rush in my mom's room and rummage through her hair and make-up supplies. There's a hair straightener, make-up, and other various supplies one would need to look pretty. I take everything and run into the bathroom. Oh my god, what am I going to do? I plug in the hair straightener and wait. I take out my hair band and watch as all the messy curls spew all of over my head. Wait, I need to show first. I haven't showered all day. I take a quick shower, making sure to clean my hair extra good. I take my mom's blowdryer and quickly dry my hair. Now it's just a frizzy mess. I growl under my breath and begin to straighten this frizzy mop called hair. After awhile my hair starts to look tame and soft and shiny. After I finish, my pale hair fall around my shoulder, stopping in the middle of my back. This already doesn't look like me. I take out the make-up and stare at it. What is all this? I take what I think is mascara and make that weird face all girls do when they put it on. After about five tries, I successfully make it look good. I look at myself in the mirror. This isn't me. My thick, platinum blonde hair is perfectly straight and my big, pale blue eyes seem to pop out with the mascara around them. I look at the time; 40. I have two more hours. Now, I have to find something to wear. I rush to my closet and look through my clothes. Nothing! I have nothing besides sweatshirt, t-shirts, and jeans. I run to my mom's closet, since we are about the same size, and look through the clothes. I needed something that covers up my arms. After awhile of looking I manage to find a light grey sweater that dips down with a rounded neckline and a complete laced back. And it has long sleeves. I put that on and put on a pair on brand new black skinny jeans that my mother has never worn. I hope she doesn't mind me wearing her clothes. I rush back to my closet and search for a pair on silver flats that I know I have. I've worn them maybe once. Once I was al dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. The sweater fits me snugly and jeans fit me well. I can't believe I clean up so well. I write my mother a note with a shaky hand, explaining where I'll be and promise that I'll be safe. I pace around my living room for the next hour. I can't believe I'm so nervous. Why did I agree to this? I'm so stupid. After what seems like years, there's finally a knock at the door. And so the night begins...