CHAPTER ONE

1366 Words
The thick dark mahogany red blurred through my vision suddenly turning to a gaping black hole of nothingness. And I finally fell into a peaceful bliss I never thought possible. *** Three months earlier Why did my Uncle and Aunt move during the middle of the school year, I pondered to myself as I slowly ambled into my new High School. They weren't thinking of me obviously only themselves as usual. I know the only reason they tolerate me in their home, not mine, mind you, but "theirs" is because of the money. I look like a pale tattered rag doll while their skin is bright with a glow around them. They also have designer clothes, a maid three times a week and a freaking gardener. They treat the help better than they treat me. I opened the heavy doors with a beating of my heart so fast I thought I might have a heart attack. I shifted my head so it was tilted a little down and covered my eyes with my long thick mascara and black eyeliner clad eyes so I could scan the hallways without directly having to look at anyone. Yup. It is the same. The school may be on a different street in a different town with a different name, but the kids were all the same. The jocks and cheerleaders on one side, trying to show off how awesome they were, while the freaks and geeks were trying to not be visible to many people. Also, there were the few kids that stood alone, like me actually, wishing they would vanish in thin air. As I glanced around for another moment, a group of guys was in the back corner of the hall pushing some freshman around. Great the bullies are the same too. I sighed and started looking for signs to the main office so I could get my schedule and locker. After a minute or two, I saw the sign and rushed towards it without bumping into a single soul. Phew. I waited for the secretary in the office to notice a presence in the room. And waited. And waited. And waited. After her fourth phone call, which was of a personal nature, she looked up at me and gave me a slight scowl. Ugh. Friendly much, lady? I thought to myself. "What do ya want?" She asked in a stuck up nasally tone. "I'm new, and I need to get my schedule and locker, please," I asked in a hushed tone. "Um, my name is Damon Ryker." She punches keys on the computer she is abusing and abruptly spins her seat around towards a fifty-year-old printer. As the document prints, which seems like an eternity, she taps her nails on the counter it is resting on. Finally, the thing grinds to an ominous halt, and she tears off the two pages and shoves them at me. I look at her for a moment and think about what have I ever done to her to make her so bitchy towards me. Then I hear it. The long, high pitched howl of the bell. Damn it. I am going to be late. I look up at the woman, and she sighs and says with regret in her voice, "I suppose you want a pass?" "Yes please," I reply meekly. The secretary grabs the pink pad and scribbles something on it and shoves it towards me and before I can grab it, she released the paper as I watched it flutter to the floor. b***h. I pick it up and walk out of the office. Thank the beings, there is no one in the hall. I take a glance at my schedule and locker and groan out loud. My classes are in B and C blocks while my locker is in A. Who is the stupid prick that devised that? Depending on where the locker is, I may just take all my stuff with me all the time. Ugh. That will be heavy. I trudge to Block A and know right then, and there I will never have time to go back and forth to my locker during each class. I'll take my morning supplies with me and then at lunch drop them off and grab my stuff for afternoon classes. I know if I go down and ask for another locker, the beast at the desk will have a field day with me and take joy in my suffering. I walked into my first class of the day about fifteen minutes late. Sigh. I hate being the center of attention. The teacher looks to me with a "Why the f**k are you interrupting my glorious tale of Hitler's reign in World War 2 speech?" I hand him over my late pass he takes a quick look at it, then gives me the once over, like he is checking me out, eww. Then scowls at me. He turns away and yells out to one of the other students to go in the back room and get a textbook and syllabus and then looks at me and growls out to me to sit down at an empty desk. Before I could get to a desk, he goes off on Hitler. The kid that got my stuff walked over to me and dropped my books onto the floor right next to me. He then turned around, walking back towards his desk and mumbled underneath his breath fag. Wonderful. I live in a town that has the mindset of people from the 1950s. This is going to be the longest six months of my life, I sigh to myself and start listening to Mr. I'm so into Hitler speech and begin to jot notes down. Second period is Chemistry with Mrs. Miller, an old haggard woman that should have retired centuries ago. I can hardly understand her because her voice quivers so badly and words get lost somewhere in between. By third period I was thoroughly disgusted with the school. I'm in Math with Mrs. Christopher as she drones on about some mathematician that has been dead for a hundred years. Yet behind I can hear these two guys chatting loud enough for me to understand but soft enough so the teacher can not pick up on it. They keep snickering and poking me in my back saying 'You a fag or what?', 'Maybe it's a she and an ugly one to boot.', 'Maybe I will give her sympathy f**k since I bet no one has ever touched it.' Then a little louder I hear this guy's friend say, "Dude, I wouldn't even give it a sympathy f**k, that is just nasty. What the hell are you thinking?" "Come on, Cole, I was kidding I would not put my d**k within spitting distance of that freak," he sneered. So I dress a little different from most of the guys, and I like to wear mascara and eyeliner, and when I feel the need, I have been known to wear black lipstick. And no, I don't want to be a girl. I just like the way it looks on me. I know I am ugly, so I feel like it hides my face from people. Next thing I know the guy that would "never get within spitting distance" of me laid his hand on my back for a moment. I shivered even though I knew his hand felt warm through my threadbare t-shirt. I couldn't help that his touch sent electricity straight through my entire body. I've never experienced a feeling quite like it before. But all good things must come to an end. That is when I felt it, a stinging pain that radiated into my right shoulder blade that left my t-shirt feeling damp. Thankfully I am left-handed, and I was able to hold my grasp on my pen and stifled a scream as I bit on my lip. I grabbed my things and tossed them into my bag and got up and ran out of the class. The last sounds I heard were Mrs. Christopher yelling for me to get back in there and the guys behind me laughing like hyenas.
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