note: Italics act as memories and also this stories unedited because im sleepy :l
Hey guys, I'm trying to write to diff stories at once so I feel more motivated to switch between. So hope you like it :) xx
I wiped away the crystallite wet tears that escaped her eyes. There is nothing worse then seeing your mother for the last time. She hid me away under the bed, away from the world, away from him. My father. The drunken burden upon our lives. If ever there was a person I hated in this world, it was him.
Kissing my forehead and covering my ears with my hands as she pushed me under the bed keeping me out of sight. Standing strong as I watched on. He bashed through the door which acted as a barrier between them. The shouting started as the movement ceased. An evil angry smirk crossed my fathers face; he was out for blood this time. All at once it happened. They were on the bed above me, both struggling. I could hear faint squeals above me and groans of tussling. Time past, I fell asleep to the sounds of my mother’s murder.
Till this day only I knew the truth. Fourteen years had past and I still hid in fear, living the life of that four year old I once was.
Throwing back the hood of my jacket I entered my classroom and took my usual seat in the back corner of the classroom.
Kicking my feet onto my desk and leaning back on my chair legs I fell into my daily school routine of listening to heavy metal music and looking out the window. The rain fell hard against the windowpane as a typical summer expectation. I took in the dull scene out the window, appreciating the beauty of the storm forming.
A piece of paper was thrown on my table hitting my feet. I looked up into the harsh wrinkled face of Mr. Simmons, his white beard tufted and eyes glaring at me.
“Feet down Miss Collins” he pushed my feet off the edge of my desk with the rest of the classes schedules. I returned his glare with haste. “And remove the makeup.”
I pulled the headphones off my head. “What was that?” I asked innocently pretending like I wasn’t listening.
“Makeup” he hissed. “Get rid of it.” He continued handing out the timetables to the rest of my rollcall.
I hadn’t taken much notice of my class this year though it was like. The girls were clones of each other, all wearing pale or bright tank tops and cardigans with miniskirts or jean shorts. The girls were quite obviously trying to bring some colour into this pathetic town and the boys, well, the boys were always joking around and teasing girls for laughs. Then there was me, Isabelle Collins, the ghost.
Everyone but the teachers ignored me. Some likely fearing my wraith, and others genuinely never noticed me. I had never needed a friend in my life. I had lost all confidence in mankind. Instead I wander the halls playing the role I was used to.
Replacing my headphones I turned my Tunes up to block out surrounding sounds. Taking a glance at my timetable it for once peeked my interest, curious to know my classes I reached for my timetable at my feet and screwing my face at my subjects. I had my electives, P.E. and CAPS (computing applications) along with the usual boring subjects, Maths, Biology, English, History and apparently the school councillor thought it would be good to put me in a Society and Culture class to learn how to ‘socialise’ with the world around me. "Oh fun" I sighed frustratedly.
“Yay for me” I murmured under my breath as the bell rang. Flipping my hood up and switching my music on I walked to my locker becoming just another robot like all the rich kids and scholars that surrounded me. Why I was here I’d never know. I didn’t belong at this school; I am only the Collins girl who’s mothers dead and fathers bashes her. Why don't I turn him in you must ask yourself, well, I've tried but because it was twelve years later there was little evidence. So according to everyone I was low on the social hierarchy. This I no longer cared about.