I knew this morning something would go wrong.
I felt it.
The venom ran through my veins, whispering what would arrive to me later on in the dark day. Tensing up, and ignoring the warning, I shoved the dirty P.E. clothes into the old, rugged locker. The way to class, people were hurrying, my body moved slow, my legs, hinting to come to a halt, but staggered on.
The shrill ring of the bell had me shake in steps. Late again. Hand on the door, turning the handle, ever so slowly, I managed my way to the wooden desk.
Damn teacher was still chatting about the historical event of whom-ever when approaching my seat.
I sat and started my good-for-nothing classwork. No matter what any student does and excels, she will create a reason for them to load her up with a heavy burden.
Pacing by, she threw a detention slip on my desk. How dare she even have the nerve!
"Excuse me, but I believe I've had 3 detention from you and what a coincidence, they're all from you." 1 should know never to "back-talk," but this person, myself, is never 1 to follow.
Whatever reeked out of that devil's mouth, I didn't want to hear it.
Pink slip in hand and slowly tearing it caused The b***h to get upset.
Of course I knew, that's why my character didn't stop there.
The venom, now coursing through my veins, wasn't for warning any longer, but for vengeance. Tearing and shredding up more papers made the teacher go insane with anger, but she acted calm with fire in her eyes.
"Oh, you're such a rebel shredding your papers!" Ha! I didn't just do that small task, but trashed her floors. "How about I get the Assistant Principal in here?"
"Okay. Well, if I'm such a rebel..." No need for words because with every1's eyes, they knew that I was escaping. Walking out the door, I paused, "I think it might be a bit of a challenge for him to find me, but please, send him anyway."
Out now, I made my way to a bathroom and called up my ma, explaining the situation. Of course she gave me guidance, but listening and following her words would have made me look foolish, so I stayed inside the half-lit-from-only-sunlight-as-it's-source stall.
When the bell shrieked for the umpteenth time that cold morning I found myself shoving peers out the way in the hallways. I bumped into my girlfriend who was probably going to say to me what a jerk I was. She began, but I pushed her out my way, fearing the AP was after me since I witnessed the psycho history teacher telephone him.
Finding another sanctuary, I threw my bag onto the puddled floors and sulked in the wrongs that I had done. Young women were in and out, but I stood still in a corner with my hood shielding my face for no1 to see my pain.
A piece of glass was taken out of my pocket from a monster, not the person holding it. Sliding the piece with pressure and viewing the openings in my wrist and the blood on the sink made me feel a little more calm.
A girl flew open the door to a stall. Slight worry, so I cleaned up the blood on the sink, which never tending to do previously. I felt her shock, I sunk it in my bones. Thoughts clattering, and mind freaking, I realized something horrible was about to take place, but I did not run. Done with running, it was too late.
She was off, but I felt that would not be the last of her.
A familiar voice entered the freezing opening.
"So you saw blood? Is she still stationed here?"
"Yup, she's right there."
Gently lifting the hood from my face, I saw my last year's science teacher.
"Did you cut?"
Lying: "I don't cut anymore, it is a bloody nose. I promised my ma I wouldn't cut any longer." It was a lame excuse, but the 1st that reached mind.
Another familiar voice was heard.
f**k, I knew who it was.
Moran approached while I kept forcing the nosebleed lie.
To back up my statement, I wiped an already bloody tissue to my nose.
Moran ignored any cutting theory, dragging me to the office.
I was forced to see the school nurse, but refused to speak to her, fore I did not want her to know about the cutting addiction.
Moran returned with my mother.
Staring at waist and below, I believed that this woman was Smoot, so I began to lighten my expression, not realizing the figure was my ma.
Once she spoke, I knew then whom it was and also knew I'd be in serious trouble because dumbass Moran enjoys torturing poor soles who have enough on their plate. He fessed up what the blonde girl in the restroom witnessed.
And that was only the beginning of 1 of the worst days of my life.
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Dysfunctional_Hooker
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