Battle Scars

"This is an anthem for the homesick, for the beaten, The lost, the broke, the defeated. A song for the heartsick, for the standbys, Living life in the shadow of goodbyes" Battle Scars by Paradise Fears ~~~☆~~~ Every day is the same... day in and day out... abuse from all directions. Mental, emotional, even physical... some days, I just can't handle it. It starts when I wake up and ends when I go to sleep. However, I'm getting ahead of myself. I should properly introduce myself. I'm Jaylyn Kramer, and this is my shitty life. I guess it all started back when I was little. My dad wasn't in the picture. My mom wasn't very mom-like. She was, and still is, more of a friend... probably the better word would be acquaintance. She'd dump me where ever she could. I'd be at her boyfriend's house, her friend's house, a grandparents' home, or just by myself. Man, that neglect f****d me up big time. "Ms. Kramer, would you like to join us in class rather than have your head in the clouds?" Awh shit... I almost forgot that I was in chemistry class... "Sorry, Mrs. Finnegan..." There is more to my story, but I guess you'll find out further along. Mrs. Finnegan, my Chemistry teacher, was an older woman. She didn't have a lot of patience. I guess that's why she usually teaches sophomores and not freshman. In fact, I'm the only freshman she teaches. I keep my gaze fixed up at the marker board, at least then she'll think that I'm paying attention. Schoolwork is my only escape from my constant torture. I guess that's why my core classes are upperclassmen classes. 10th grade science and math, 11th grade history, and 12th grade English. The bell rings, signifying class is over. Shit... I didn't get the last four pages of notes... I glance over to my table partner, Agatha... her friends call her Aggie... "Hey, uh, Agatha..." "Talk to the hand, worm. You had your chance to get them straight for the source. F.y.i. I hope your prepared for the test tomorrow. Those notes would've helped a lot." And with that, she left me. I took a deep breath in, held it for a second, then exhaled. Everyone talks to me like that. Well, except for Wednesday and Tobias. However, since they're in my grade... I only see them at lunch, oh, and homeroom. The halls in school are always crowded. It takes an expert to duck and weave through the general population of Hogarth High. On my good days, I am that expert. However, today was not a good day. Malcolm was in my hall. To be honest, I thought he was still suspended for putting Kobe in the hospital. "Hey f**k-face!" I gulped, he was referring to me. "How come you never called me?" His dark eyes burned into my own. I couldn't keep looking at him. The dumb jock thinks he owns all the girls... at least, the freshmen ones. "I d-d-don't know... yo-your number..." I stammered softly. I was trembling. It made me sick... being so close. I felt his huge hand grasp my jaw. He was holding it so tight that my jaw ached, then he jerked my head to look at him. "Listen here b***h, I gave you my number. I'm gonna give it to you again. This time you'll call, or you'll be sorry." His eyes narrowed, he was serious. I tried nodding my head, but his grip wouldn't let my head move. "Y-yes..." After hearing what he wanted, he let me go and disappeared into the crowd. I fell back against the lockers and grasped my heart. I can't break down, not here... not right now... After a few deep breaths, I pushed myself up off the lockers and scurried off to my math class. Mr. Allen wouldn't be very happy if I was late again. Thankfully, I sat down at my desk right as the bell rung. However, I was too preoccupied with rubbing where Malcolm left bruises on my jaw to notice that Mr. Allen wasn't in class today. "Miss, are you alright?" It wasn't until I heard those words that I realized we had a substitute. I froze in place, wondering if the sub was referring to me. She stepped closer, and put her hand on mine. The light touch made me jump. When I looked into her eyes, she seemed genuinely concerned. "I-" "Oh she's fine Ms. Yang." Bethany, who sat behind me peeped up. She was the one in charge of making my life a living nightmare in Mr. Allen's class. Well one of the two people. Ms. Yang directed her gaze above my head, "Ms. Andrews, I was not speaking to you. My question was directed to Ms. Kramer." I gulped, Way to go lady... make my life even worse... "I'm alright, ma'am." It hurt so bad to utter those words. However, the bruises on my chin were the only visible damage at this point. Ms. Yang looked to me, her eyes were soft and caring. Something that I hadn't seen in so long. I wanted to run to her and hug her and spill everything. But I couldn't, so I held my tongue as always. "If you say so, Ms. Kramer." She seemed disappointed in my answer. After her investigation of my well being, as brief as it was, the class seemed to go by like normal. Multiple equations on the black board for us as a class to solve. Then four by four, each student got to solve an equation of his or her own. I was sent up with Bethany, Scarlett, and Cody. None of them score very well, and it seems to always be my fault. I mean of course, each one is in a neighboring desk... how pathetic is it that they have to copy off a freshman? However, I let them... just so they'll leave me be in the halls and after school... Class was actually flying by, it was a minute til the bell would ring. I was actually pretty content. Bethany was on her best behavior today and left me alone, probably because of Ms. Yang. It made me fear what she had in store for me later. "Ms. Kramer," Fuck... The bell had rung and Ms. Yang said my name. As other students file into the chaos of the hallway, I remained in my seat. "Yes, Ms. Yang?" Her soft eyes were filled with sorrow when she looked at me. "Ms. Kramer, do you know why I'm here?" To be honest, no. However, I said the most obvious of reasons. "Because Mr. Allen is out sick?" I'm pretty good at reading people. And when I said Mr. Allen's name, Ms. Yang's face twisted up in anger and disgust. "No, that isn't why." She said, her tone didn't become harsh. In fact, it was the same sweet, patient tone she has been addressing me in. She takes a deep breath, then looks to the clock hanging above the door. Ms. Yang then turns her attention back to me. "I am here because Mr. Allen is under investigation." I tried to act surprised, but I froze in fear instead. "Investigation of what..?" My breaths became shorter, I felt an anxiety attack was about to come on. "Well, Jaylyn, I was hoping you could tell me." Ms. Yang was fishing. I couldn't tell though. I can't. I just can't. I want to, but I just could not. She continued, "you see, there was a complaint filed about his behaviors. The superintendent was told that you were the person to ask. So, has your teacher done anything inappropriate?" I flinched. I couldn't divulge anything. Mr. Allen would find out if I did. "No." I tried to play it off as I took the time to rake my memory. However, in all reality I was trying to block it out. "Jaylyn, you're safe here. You can tell me." Her voice was soothing, but I just couldn't. "I'm sorry, Ms. Yang... I can't help you. Perhaps you could ask some of the other students. Now, I have to go... I'll be late for English if I don't leave." She takes a deep breath. "Alright Jaylyn. I am here until the end of the week, if you want to talk about anything..." I was already out of my seat and almost out the door when she added, "especially if it's something about those bruises around your jawline." I hesitated for a brief second, "I don't need to talk to anyone..." and with that, I hurried out of the classroom to my next class. Ms. Yang has been the first teacher to point out any bruises on me. Hogarth High isn't exactly known for it's caring teachers. However, my favorite class would have to be Ms. Reese's English. In English, I could be someone other than myself through reading and writing. I could escape into a fantasy world all my own. Ms. Reese used to be like Ms. Yang, all considerate and compassionate. Then, her brother died the year prior to myself entering high school. I only know this because Mr. Reese was my eighth grade teacher. The Reese family was scattered in the school system. I had one every school in the district. I liked them personally. It was easy to focus in their classes. Ms. Reese was distributing our new reading assignments. Henry, the senior who sat in front of me, dropped my book to the ground. I didn't sigh, moan, or grumble. I just leaned out of my seat a bit to reach for it... Suddenly, my hand started to sting. He had kicked my book, but also my hand because it got in his way. No oops or sorry was muttered. "Watch it, egg-head." He spat at me. I just turned my gaze downward, sitting all the way back into my seat. "Sorry..." I whispered. My hand stung so bad... but I didn't dare tend to it. Not yet at least. I just had to wait for the bell to ring, then I'd get my book and take care of my hand. My mind wasn't in the classroom. All my focus was forcing myself not to cry. I will not give them that satisfaction. I had learnt the hard way not to. It just makes it worse. Showing any signs of weakness makes it worse. The bell ringing brought me back into reality. I got up from my seat and went to retrieve my book. As soon as I bent down and reached for it, a boot stepped on my already injured hand. I inhaled sharply due to the pain, then looked up. The boot was the same as the one that kicked me earlier. "Excuse me, Henry..." I said meekly. Henry sneered down at me. "Look egg-head. Get lost." "I just need my book..." I tried to pull my hand out from under his boot, but to no avail. "Please, let go..." I tried not to beg. The pain in my hand was starting to intensify. Henry put more pressure on my hand before he finally lifted his foot. He spit just inches in front of me then left. I took a deep breath, then reached for my book with my good hand. The hand he stepped on and kick was in no shape to grab or to hold anything. Maybe it was time to go see Mrs. Ruben, the school nurse. Luckily for me, it was homeroom time. The seniors get to eat lunch first because most of them go home after homeroom... something about early release for seniors. Then the juniors, sophomores, and finally the freshman. So homeroom is basically one long study period they lock us in until it is our set lunch time. I didn't bother to check in with Mr. White, my homeroom teacher. I just wanted to get to Mrs. Ruben's office as soon as possible.