Unlikeable

Bad Day

How could I put this into words? I was bored with my life... it had no excitement. I had no friends since everyone thought I was a devil worshipper or a weirdo because I dressed differently from them. I had my own style and didn't like being like others. Other than that, I was like everyone around me, and I wish they would see that.

Every time I tried to fit in with the people around me, it ended in disaster. What was it about me that others didn't like? Why did I need to be the weird one? Or why couldn't I fix people like me to fit in with? It was a question that no one could answer. Sometimes I wanted to change who I was, but as my grandmother said, everyone couldn't be alike. She loved who I was, and if the ones around me couldn't see it, they didn't need to be in my life.

The only problem was that I was a senior at John-Buss High School. By this time, I thought I would have some friends, but I was wrong, which made me hate high school. Every time I set foot in it, I felt the dread of being there.

It was my last year, and soon I would be rid of this damn school and the city it was in. I was still trying to decide on a major, but I knew I was going to college out of state. I need that fresh start, and I could find some people like me with whom I could fit in. Until then, I was cursed with the folks in this school.

"Ugh, the weirdo!"

"Satan be gone!"

"Oh My God, She Touched Me! Am I Going To Die Soon!"

Every day, it was the same words and the same people who had to say something. The rest stood around and laughed. I knew teenagers could be harsh, but why were the teachers involving themselves in teen affairs? They were no better and stood around watching as the others threw paper and food at my head, tripped me up, pushed or shoved me, and poured drinks on my head.

Every time something happened, they blamed it on me because I had a smart mouth. They were supposed to be my protectors away from home, but what I saw that they were a bunch of immature men and women who called themselves teachers. It didn't matter; I only had a few more weeks left before I was out of this place, and I had a full scholarship.

"Ms. Rosewood, are you going to sit there or answer my question?"

"She was calling the devil to come get us all."

"No, she is the devil, and devils need to be exercised." Molly Edwards spoke as she threw her water in my face. I sat there remembering what happened the last time I tried to fight back, and my scholarship was riding on my good behavior. Those two things kept me planted in my seat as some thought I was crazy. Of course, I was, because if I hadn't stayed seated, I would have taken my book and beaten her over the head with it.

"Go clean yourself up, Rosewood, and wash off that makeup. You look like a clown."

"A dirty little w***e clown. Get on your knees and suck it."

"Suck your own d**k b***h or get Jason to f**k you in the ass again. Like he did in the janitor's closet." I smiled, giving him the finger, but I said it loud enough for the whole class to hear, and they all turned to him, making him whisper, 'I was a dead man walking.'

"f**k, I Hate This f*****g School!

"You and me both freak..."

"I'm Not A Damn Freak! f**k What Is Wrong With You People?! I dress differently, but since it's not in a way you like, I have to be a demon, devil, or a weirdo. Maybe some of you need to look into the halls, then you will see the real weirdo and the problem. Move out of my f*****g way bitch." I spoke after washing off my makeup and returning to my last period.

I was ready to go home, and once the bell rang, I was the first one out of the class as I made my way to my car, finding a flyer about the party that everyone was talking about. It was strange to see one on my car when I knew the boy who was throwing it wouldn’t have dared to invite me. He was like all the others... he saw me the same way they did.

It didn't matter; I didn't want to go anyway; it was going to be filled with a heap of people whom I didn't like. I was good to spend my Saturday night at the movies as I always did. It was the way things were, and I liked my routine.

"How was school, Baby?"

"The same way it always is, Ma. Please tell me that you got the oranges that I requested and my candy...."

"Kehlani, you have diabetes, and the doctor said once a week. Not every day, but I got your oranges." I loved my mother, but she was a party pooper. She always had to follow the rules, while I was wild and reckless when it came to eating sweets. I knew I was diabetic, but I didn't care. As long as I checked my sugar regularly, I was fine, but she didn't believe that.

"You're a loser, Mom. How dare you keep me away from my one true love? That's okay, meany. I have my secret stash in my room. Oh yeah, Grandma, I love you. I know that's who you're talking to." I smiled, kissing her cheek as I ran upstairs straight to my little brother's room. He was sixteen years younger than I, but he was like my own. I loved him, and I had to see his little face before going to my balcony to smoke my green. That was when I noticed the new family moving in behind us.

They seemed to be a happy family, as mine was. I loved seeing the couple hug and kiss whenever they passed, but something was missing between them. Unlike my parents, who loved each other, they seemed to be putting on a show for the neighbors they thought were watching. The s**t made me laugh, but that's when I saw him.

He had to be a year or two older than me, but he had a manbun on the top of his head and blue eyes. I normally didn't crush over boys, mainly because all the ones at school were assholes. They would pretend to like me, then thought they could get s*x, which was out of the question. I wasn't sexually active and wasn't about to be for any old bastard.

Anyhow, he was sexy as freak but knew that he wouldn't like a girl like me. No one liked someone like me. I was the odd one out of the bunch, and at school, I didn't mind it, but when it happened outside of school, it made me want to hide and never come back out.

"What have I told you about that s**t, Kehlani? No f*****g smoking in my house."

"I wasn't smoking in the house; I was smoking on the balcony. Why are you tripping? It's not like you don't smoke. I know I'm your child, and you don't want me following in your footsteps. You got pregnant at a young age, and my dad left you. I'm over that age, and my smoking is a relief from my horrible day at school. I need something to help my nerves, Mom."

Of course, she sighed, pulling me into a hug. She knew about the rough times I was having at school. She tried going there, talking to the principal, and moving me to a different school, but it only got worse. I needed something to get me through, and one day I found my mom's weed and decided to smoke it.

To me, it was better for me to smoke m*******a than to pop pills or shoot something into my veins. I wish she would see it from my point of view, but she was looking at the whole matter all wrong. It was a part of being a parent, and I loved her for it.

"I know, Angel, but I don't want you doing the same s**t that I did. Besides smoking, why don't you pick up something to do after school? Get a job, learn to box, or something. Stop letting those kids at school break your pride."

"I Have A Job and Are You Serious! Out Of Every One You Should Know The Bullshit..."

"Kehlani, I Don't Know Who The f**k You Think You're Talking To, But It's Not Me! You Will Not Raise Your Voice In My House, Girl!" She paused because my brother started to cry, which was a blessing. My mom didn't play, and I hated it when she became mad.

"Be happy that your brother started crying. Now put that s**t out and go for a damn walk before I lose my temper."

"Yes, ma'am." Arguing back was a big no-no, so I quickly put out my blunt and made my way out the door. I was pissed simply because my mom was acting like the rest of the people in my life. They didn't listen, and it made me feel like I was the only one in this world. I wished I knew my father, or I could go live with my grandmother. At least she listened when I needed her to.

Nevertheless, my mom said I couldn’t smoke in her home. She never said I couldn't go in the backyard and smoke. Therefore, I went to the edge of our backyard and lit my blunt, thinking about how I only had two more weeks left, and I was scott-free of that damn school. John Buss High was the worst. Soon it would only be a memory, and I would be free of the s**t everyone put me through.

Now that I think about it, I shouldn't have been the nice girl that my mother taught me to be. She didn't want me to follow in her footsteps, but she still managed to come out on top. She was a nurse practitioner married to a doctor. Both were amazing people, but they raised me to have too much respect, and when that went out the window, I wasn't a nice person.

She knew that, and it was the reason I was in a private school, which didn't make the students better; they were just as bad as those in a public school. Like those from my old school, I wanted to bash their heads in like I did that one girl a few years ago. I should have been in juvenile, but my dad had a good lawyer who got me off with a slap on the wrist and they had it taken off my record. Ever since then, I've been going to anger management and smoking the devil's flower.

"So, it was you I heard having the screaming match with your Mom, I'm guessing." He spoke as I looked around the yard, trying to make sure no one else was around. People as young as he was didn't come up and talk to me without a purpose.

"A... are you talking to me?"

"Unless you have an imaginary friend that I was talking to. Then yes, I'm talking to you. I'm Connor, and you are?" I was trying to wrap my head around this. This fine-ass white boy was talking to me, and I was lost for words.

"Umm, yes, but are you sure you want to talk to the freak?"

"I see a person, Suga. A beautiful one as that."

"Ha-Ha! I think you may be high from contact, but my name is Kehlani."