Bullied, But not Broken

1. Just Another Day

*TW: Severe neglect, substance abuse and bullying*

Sasha

Sasha woke with the alarm on her ancient phone and she quickly silenced it so it wouldn’t wake anyone else. She lay in bed, staring at the water stained ceiling of her room and counted to ten. There was silence in the house; she was never sure if that was good or bad, but then she wouldn’t know until she got up and faced the day.

Taking a deep breath to brace herself for the same old experiences in her same old life, she stood and took out her faded leggings and too large black sweater that she wore over her holey faded grey T-Shirt. The colors fit her life, but it had also fit her miniature budget when she had to get some new clothes for another school year…well, new for her- it did not necessarily fit her body.

She brushed her teeth, squeezing out as much toothpaste out of the tube as she could; mostly using that time to brace herself for the cold shower that she knew awaited her. At least she knew they had water, since she had managed to pay the account this month and it was not like they used that much water anyway; she did all the cleaning and with her working after school she didn’t get to much of it. She knew there wasn’t electricity, which was why she charged her phone at school in the library before her day started and again when she did her homework or worked her shift before going back to the house.

Yes, house, because this wasn’t a home. She absently wondered what a home would feel like, probably the complete opposite of what she had.  She supposed she could be fine with the apathy at home as opposed to the resentment she felt most of the time. There were really no really good emotions surrounding her on any day, probably because she couldn’t trust anyone.

She had a shift at the diner today; it wasn’t the best job, but between the tiny salary and the tips and the free meal, she couldn’t complain. Sometimes it was her only meal for the day, depending on how the expenses went and the sales of the artwork she occasionally made from trash and sold over weekends she wasn’t working in town to save up money along with the occasional art she sold to the tattoo parlor. 

She had a few secret stashes hidden in her room that she called her Freedom Fund; she’d long ago learned not to hide it all in one place. That money would pay for her to be able to get as far away from this town and its people as she possibly could. That thought was the only thing that really kept her going.

Maybe by the time she finished her senior year, which she was ahead on because she chose to do summer school a few times since she had nothing better to do anyway which meant she was a year ahead of her age group, she would be able to afford a somewhat reliable car with a full tank of gas and some left over to tide her over for a month or two while she started a new life somewhere else.

Sasha gasped and squeaked when she jumped naked under the cold water; expecting the cold water certainly did not make it easier to go through with her shower, but she liked clean. By the time she had finished washing her body and dried herself with the tattered towel, her body was covered in gooseflesh and she was shivering. 

Quickly she pulled on her worn clothes followed by holey socks and her combat boots that she had picked up from someone’s trash bin. They were still pretty good and in her size, so there was no way she would complain about picking it up for free. At least it would keep the snow off her feet this year; not like last year when she only had a pair of sneakers with holes in the bottom.

Sasha left her straight hair to hang loose around her face and left her room. Trotting to the fridge she opened it and found it empty aside from the three month old bottle of ketchup. She didn’t know why she bothered to check the empty fridge anyway; it wasn’t like things would suddenly change overnight and food would appear.

Rolling her eyes to herself, she left the door ajar so the fridge wouldn’t start smelling like mold and add to the stench already in the house before she trotted towards the door, seeing her parents passed out on the living room floor. The dingy couches had been sold a month ago to buy their next fix and the cheapest alcohol they could find. She had no idea where they got the cash for their latest fix.

Sasha stared at them long and hard for a moment, committing this image to her memory in case she ever considered giving up on her plans to go. This was the reason she was leaving as soon as she was able to; one of the reasons anyway.

Finally she left the house and started the brisk walk to school; it was some distance and she had no other way of getting there, plus in the winter it helped some to warm her up. When she approached the corner, she dug into her ratty backpack and pulled out the two apples she had left. Biting into one, she turned the corner and handed the other to the homeless man that lived in that alley. They exchanged smiles without her missing her step and she continued on towards school. Absently she wondered how he was homeless and sober while her parents could live in a house and be high out of their minds so regularly.

She heard the loud music and laughter before they came around the corner; the popular crowd, some of them anyway. Garrett Steele drove his new model mustang past her; Emily Thompson and Ruby Anderson were giggling in the back seat while Tony Moss was fiddling with the music.

She ignored them while they passed, she was sure they would think of some other method to torture her today; they always did. But luckily she only had this year left to deal with them and not even that many classes with her doing summer school she had at least one free period a day that she spent in the library to do her homework and projects so she didn’t have to worry about it after she finished her shift at the diner.

It also gave her some time to do some sketches for the tattoo parlor; Vaughn from the parlor occasionally allowed her to help out by cleaning the place, since she wasn’t old enough to do tattoos yet.

Vaughn was one of the few people she would miss if she left this town; he understood her circumstances without her telling him. She guessed he had had much the same childhood as her and had even offered her a job when she turned eighteen, but she wanted to be gone when she graduated end of this year, even though she only turned seventeen this year. In fact, that would be tomorrow.

She reached the school early and went to the library to charge her phone and make sure she had done everything she could to make this week go as smoothly as it could, academically speaking. With her quietly doing extra projects and summer school she had a full pass to two different colleges; she would only have to figure out a place to stay and food to eat.

She only had one art project due this week that she still had to do – that or she could choose from what she had already done for herself, but none of the art work felt right for the specific project so she was still trying to come up with something. If she couldn’t come up with something by tomorrow then she’d pick from what she had already.

Art was by far her favorite class and though she was good in her other classes, art was the only thing that really made her feel alive; the only thing that kept her going. Otherwise she was just numb, going through the motions to survive, because she had no other option.

She finished one more sketch for tattoo art and then put it in her sketchbook; she’d stop by the tattoo parlor on her way to the diner after school to drop these requested artworks off. Maybe with those and a few tips from the diner, she could afford the luxury of electricity this coming month.

When the time for class drew near; she shoved everything into her backpack and waved to the librarian before she left to place her other stuff in her locker. The librarian knew her well, because this was one of her hiding places, since none of her bullies used the library.

She heard the giggling when she came down the corridor and the cheerleaders watched her with clear anticipation; that warned her that she could expect something at her locker. How unoriginal... She knew from experience that whatever they did would either be obvious from outside or ruined everything inside.

Walking up to her locker she saw the large white words painted on her blue locker: Trailer Trash Sash. Wow, ten points for the creator of this amazing work of art; she thought sarcastically to herself while she put in the combination to her locker and opened it.

At least she changed the combination to her locker weekly, so she knew whatever she would find in her locker would be what they could shove through the slots; last time it had been a water hose which was why she didn’t really keep anything important in her locker, aside from extra pens and pencils in case she needed it along with her text books.

At least she didn’t have to pay the fine for the textbooks that time because the corridor camera had caught the culprit and they had to pay for the damages to school property. After that session there only seemed to be the insults and other stupid pranks on her locker, but she kept her eye on her backpack all the time after that. She had no doubt they would gladly ruin everything in her bag if given the chance.

She made a point of not reacting to their plans, which both annoyed and bored them; it was a double edged sword. They kept trying to get a reaction out of her but when nothing happened they soon moved on to other things. She’d never been more grateful for teenagers’ short attention span.

Quietly she got what she needed for her class and put the rest of her text books that she wouldn’t need in there.   Then she went to her class, where she sat in the back so no one would notice her; well she tried anyway. But being the favorite person people liked to pick on tended to put a damper on being invisible.

Sasha’s first class was history; so she had a seat and took out her books, making a point of ignoring whoever came past her desk. Someone walked past her desk and his backpack dragged her textbook off the table and onto the floor, but he didn’t even glance around.

She glanced up when she reached down for her book; yep, it was Garrett Steele. He didn’t actively get involved with the bullying in school, but he didn’t stop it either, so he was just as guilty as the rest of them. She had the desk to herself, so she could ignore everyone in class which seemed to be the case in every class. She wasn’t complaining, it was the only times she would have peace from the bullies.

After lunch, unfortunately she had the experience of having Emily Thompson ‘accidentally spilling’ cranberry juice down the front of her shirt and sweater. At least the black sweater wouldn’t show the red stain, but her holey grey shirt underneath would have to suffer for it. Guess it was time to recycle it into something else, anyway.

At least the rest of her day went by rather uneventfully so she had time to do her homework since she spent her lunch break in the library too; there was no point going to the cafeteria if she couldn’t afford food anyway. It would be an act of masochism which she was not partial to.

After school, she started the walk over to the diner, stopping by the tattoo parlor, where a scary looking Vaughn greeted her with a jovial smile and eagerly came towards the front counter to see what she had for him. She knew he scared most of the kids her age and being part of a biker gang tended to add to that scary image, which made her want to join a biker gang just to belong somewhere and to have less problems with people around her. But she doubted if she’d even have friends there.

He glanced over her sketches and then chose three that he praised her for; giving ideas to make the others better tattoo material and then paid her for her sketches. Sasha smiled her thanks and excused herself before she headed to the diner.

Mabel’s Diner was where she got most of her money from; it was also the only other person she would miss from this town. Mabel always greeted her with the enthusiasm of a grandmother who hadn’t seen her grandchildren in a week; she assumed she did, since she didn’t really have a point of reference.

But Mabel always seemed happy to see her and today was no different, the moment she walked into the back where the staff kept their things Mabel got up from her chair and came to give her a big welcoming hug.

She was a lady in her late fifties that saw no reason to give up working to sit in an old age home, so she ran the diner like she always did, just with a little more help. She had started helping Mabel with some of the paperwork in the diner as well, learning something about running a business along with helping Mabel with all the work that needed to be done when it was quiet.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Mabel asked her with a smile.

“Same as always, Mabel.” She answered like she always did. She never really spoke about her circumstances, since she didn’t look forward to going into a foster home that might be worse than what she was dealing with now.

“You’re having a snack before you start working, Darling, you’re much too thin.” Mabel glanced her over disapprovingly before she handed her a granola bar that she knew she would have to eat before she could change and start her shift, which she did quickly since it was a treat to have something more than an apple before her evening meal while Mabel rattled on about random things.

When she pulled off her sweater Mabel made a sound of distress and she glanced down at her stained shirt. “Someone spilled cranberry juice on my shirt; it’s nothing serious, Mabel.” Sasha answered, but she had the feeling Mabel didn’t quite believe her.

Without a word she rushed into the bathroom to change into her diner uniform and rushed to the counter where she was just in time to start her shift.

She got through the shift just fine, thankfully no one from school was there to torture her today, so her day was not too bad, but she still had to get back. That was an entire different matter since there wasn’t really any good outcome at the house.

Mabel insisted that she eat her dinner at the diner before she went home and packed her a box of some of the muffins that were ‘getting too old to sell’. She was sure Mabel and Vaughn had guessed at her circumstances and were trying to help her in their own way.

She was grateful for it, but she wouldn’t tell anyone what was going on in her life. There was no one she could trust with her secrets, so she just didn’t share a part of herself; hadn’t done so for at least ten years. That was when she realized that other kids did not have the same life she did; when she was seven.