Miracle

Miracle. Chapter One

©

BadBitch

All Rights Reserved.

Chapter One

I was home schooled.

I had been ever since the age of thirteen, and planned on keeping it that way. Nothing was ever going to persuade me to go back in to High School, not with all the torment I had to put up with, not ever was I getting used to that again. I was different, still fragile as fuck, but different, I knew that I didn’t deserve any of that, and nobody would ever give me a break if I did go back, so I did the safest thing, opted for Home schooling.

“Sweetie, Mr. Connors is here!” My mother called me, and I closed the novel I was reading – WitheringHeights – and put a fluffy pen to mark my place, and scuttled down the stairs, reluctant to do any Geometry today.

“On my way,” I murmured, fixing my blouse, the sleeve kept on falling off, revealing my black bra strap, was it meant to do that? I had no clue; not a single friend meant not a zilch of fashion sense on my part. 

“Ahh, Aria!” he smiled, shaking my hand and I returned his smile, more hesitantly though. Three years with the same teacher and I still couldn’t bring myself to act normal.

“What’s it today Mr. Connors?”

“Geometry,” he neatened out some papers, taking a few out of his folder whilst I opened up my book.

Sigh. Why am I not surprised?

After an hour of shapes my mood came to an ultimate low and Mr. Connors realized this, so, being the nice guy he is, he let me have a go at my favorite subject for the other hour - English.

“Shakespeare?” he raised an eyebrow, fixing the glasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. I have him a genuine grin that he seemed pleased to see.

“God bless you Mr. Connors! Yes please,”

                                                                                 ***

I went outside, to get a little fresh air, straight after I was done with education for the day, and Angel, my gorgeous kitten followed along.

“Sweetheart!” Mom called, walking with me; the silence verging on awkwardness. “Your father and I need to speak to you,” she whispered, not staring at me, not daring to, and I begun to wonder why.

“About?” I questioned, my hands in my jacket, the breeze sweeping away the crisp golden leaves.

“We’re placing you in Therapy Aria,”

“Why?” I whispered quietly, not entirely shocked, just sort of… speechless. I expected this, ever since I became a teenager I had become different, distanced myself from everything I had loved, become somebody else, I wasn’t the girl I used to be – and my parent’s finally caught on.

“Why?” she was surprised, she expected shouting, but I wasn’t going to be giving her that satisfaction, because that was too normal, it was what teenagers did, and I was anything but a normal teenager. “Well because, let’s face it honey, you’re not you… you’re not the same girl your father and I spent loving and caring for,” she sighed and Angel wriggled around my legs, causing me to stop in my tracks, not wanting to fall, and Mom doing the same. I looked at her, observing her for the very first time in so long.

Her dark curly hair was flat and dull, her amazing hazel eyes were lifeless, and she had bags under them, her skin was raw and uncared for, she was a wreck. Is this what I had turned my family in to? Things they promised themselves they would never be?