Everchanging Life

Chapter One

    I woke up with a jolt, the nightmare I had cloaking me like a blanket, almost swallowing me whole. Still trying to catch my breath and slow my heart rate down, there was a banging on my door. "Wynter! Get your ass up, you better not miss the bus or your ass is walking to school." Stephanie, my foster mom, shouted. I've been here for a week, and it's my first day of school because Stephanie couldn't find all of the transcripts I needed to transfer schools. This is the third foster home, and fourth school I am starting within the last year. The physical bruising has long since gone, but not the emotional, not the mental. I still wake up in a cold sweat every morning, no need for an alarm clock when you become an insomniac. Every time I close my eyes, I see the anger burning in my fathers eyes. 

    Getting out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom that connects my room to my foster brothers. As soon as I enter, I turn on the cold water and splash my face, wishing futilely that I could erase the memories that plagued me. I look up at my water stricken face and groan. On the surface, there isn't much sign that I almost died. My nose healed okay, although I now have a slight bump at the bridge where his fist connected. There is a scar on my upper lip. I suppose it isn't too noticeable to people but then again, I wouldn't know for sure because I'm not looking to get emotionally attached to anyone. I grab my toothpaste and brush from the holder, and start brushing my teeth, trying to focus on the vibration coming from my toothbrush so I wouldn't have to think about the pain my dad inflicted on me, or waking up in the hospital a week later to find out that my mother died and my dad was in jail for murder and attempted murder. Turns out, while he was choking me, my mom got up and tried to pry him off of me, and grabbed one of the empty beer bottles he had consumed during the evening, and slammed it into his shoulder, breaking it in an attempt to take his focus off of me and onto her instead. That, of course, didn't deter him from choking me until I blacked out, but once I passed out from the pain, he let go of me and turned his anger onto my mom. He grabbed one of the bigger shards from the broken bottle and stabbed her with it but before he could turn it onto me, the cops had broken into the house and pointed guns at him shouting at him to get on the ground. 

 Trying to shake the moment from my mind, I rinsed my mouth and used the bathroom quickly before heading into my room to change into some clothes for school. I am not a fashionista, but I don't dress like a bum either. I guess I would call my wardrobe 'Plain Jane', and honestly, with everything going on in my life, the more invisible I can be the better. Don't speak, don't look people in the eye unless I have to, and blend into the background. That's my motto. I just want to survive high school and age out of the system so I don't have to rely on anyone who just wants me for the monthly paycheck. I head downstairs and grab an apple from the kitchen counter as Stephanie places a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Mark, my foster brother. "Eat up, you want to grow up to be big and strong don't you?" she asks warmly to Mark, her "real boy". To me, she simply says, "what's the point of eating that apple, you know it wont help you loose weight, you'll still be a fat ass. Why don't you try starving yourself, maybe that'll help you loose the weight", she said, giving me a once over before adding, "on second thought, starving yourself won't help either." I turn to walk out the door rolling my eyes at her comment. It's just before seven so I decide to walk to school. It isn't so far and I'd prefer walking as oppose to being on a bus filled with loud teenagers so early in the morning. I get to school within fifteen minutes and head to the front office to get my schedule and find my way around the building before the bell rings. I manage to walk into first period junior English right as the final bell began to ring. "You made it just in time," my teacher said kindly. "You must be Wynter Anderson. Since you're already in front of the class, do you want to tell the rest of the class anything about yourself?"

    "Not particularly. But since this is English, I guess I'll say my favorite poet is Edgar Allen Poe and my favorite poem is "I do not love you" by Pablo Neruda, so I guess I'm the definition of an oxymoron, a dark and depressing hopeless romantic." I say before softly laughing at my own corny joke and sitting towards the back of the classroom. There wasn't any seat available other than in front of some guy who caught my lame attempt at a joke and chuckled as well. 

    I could feel him lean forward before he said, "That was pretty funny. I'm Archer. Nice to meet you, Wynter. Welcome to Trinity High." I only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement as a response before focusing on the lesson. The last thing I wanted was to make friends, especially with my track record for switching schools and the s**t luck I have of getting close to people who only want to use me.