Lights of every color were flashing around the room. At least a hundred teens dancing. The music stopped and the DJ started talking. A small brown-haired girl was walking over to the snack table get something to drink. She turned around to head back to the dance floor only to notice another girl standing alone in a corner. Why hadn’t she noticed her before?

“Who is that?” she asked her friend, pointing to the little girl with braided blond hair in the corner. Her friend looked over, shrugged his shoulders, and went back to dancing.

Suddenly an abundance of memories flooded her head. A flash in her mind showed her standing in that same corner. A year ago, it was. All those memories then started playing in her head. It was as if they were on a movie screen; everything was perfectly clear. As the memories from the previous year played on, she was reminded how and why she ended up in that corner in the first place.

This was an annual dance for a teen organization. Last year was her first year as a member. It is a fairly big organization, with maybe a hundred teens, so it is split into groups. The groups were mostly random. A few were organized by school. Some groups were all boys; some all girls; some both. She was put in an all girl group. She didn’t know any of the girls in her group when she started, but they all seemed to know each other. They were all talking and laughing. There was only one other new girl, Hannah, but she didn’t know that at first. Hannah fit in perfectly, as if she had known everyone in the group her whole life. No one seemed to notice the small brown-haired girl standing behind them.

She never was any good at making friends. She had lost so many; she was afraid to make new ones. This fear ruled her life. It seemed every time she made a friend, she lost one. She was easily betrayed and easily targeted. She spent years of her life in mild depression, thinking everyone hated her, thinking no one would miss her if she was gone. She couldn’t enjoy life thinking everyone was against her. She hoped this group would help her start over.

The music started to get louder. She walked outside for a moment to clear her head. She could still here the music but nowhere near as loud. She couldn’t get the thoughts out of her head; they kept playing on.

Next she saw herself sitting in the corner. There was an hour left in the dance when a girl, two years older than her, started walking over to her. The girl was in her group, her name was Carly.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Carly asked her.
“I don’t know anyone, also, no one seems to notice I’m here,” she responded.
“Come on.” Carly grabbed the small girl’s arm, pulled her up and made her go over to the dance floor.

A flash back to the present. Just like the previous year, there was an hour left. She walked over to the little girl with braided blond hair, stuck out her arm, palm opened. The little blond girl looked up and took her hand and neither girl said a word.