Damaged

Chapter 1

A/N: As promised- Chapter 1! Enjoy! :)

I consider staying home, but that fantasy got interrupted by the pounding on my door, as well as a lovely “Get the fuck up” from my father. I sluggishly get out of bed and into the shower. I let the blazing water fall on my skin, which feels amazing. It relaxes me so much that I forget all the stupid shit; all the stress and sadness melts away, leaving a feeling of certainty that everything is perfectly “normal.” Of course, all those good feelings vanish, and I am snapped back into the reality of it all when my father turns off the water. 

I proceed to get dressed, grab my stuff and start heading toward the door. My lovely dad decided to start more shit with me, right before school, no less. “Good morning cunt,” he said, following a big gulp from the bottle of whiskey in his hand, “Try and get run over on the way, won’t you?” Stunned at his pure idiocy, I roll my eyes and walk past him. He takes another swig of his drink and slams me against the wall, and holds me there with all his weight. “Let me go,” I said annoyed. “Don’t ever tell me what to do, bitch!” he yelled, “I am the parent here, not you.” After another drink, he added, “Oh, and if you ever roll your eyes at me again, I will make your life miserable.” Yeah, ‘cause we all know my life right now is just peachy, I think to myself. “Can I go now?” I asked. He released me, and I walked out the door, slamming it behind me.

I start walking to my bus stop, and miraculously made it just in time. The rest of the ride to my day prison I am left alone with my thoughts. I am so damn tired of being alone and keeping all this shit inside. I want more than anything to have someone to tell my problems to. I have a couple of “friends,” Heather and Monica, but they are the school gossip queens; the sources of every rumor-including my own-that travels the halls of Monte Vista High School. The last thing I want my entire school to know about is my prick of a father and how he treats me. I already have enough fabrications going on about me; why would I ever want more?

I get to school an hour and a half before it starts, so I decide to go into my first period class and wait. I go sit in the back corner of the deserted room and pull out my CD player, listening to my angry music. By the end of the first song, I was dead asleep. The music changes to something much calmer, which is so not my style. I look up to find myself in a forest late at night with fog all around me. I faintly hear a sound, and I follow it until I hear that it is my name being called. I look around and see a figure in the dark foggy shadows. I cautiously step closer to the being, and soon enough, I knew exactly who it was.

I suddenly wake up to a sharp pain on the back of my head. “What the fuck!” I yell. Opening my eyes, I see my math teacher, Mr. Perez, holding a book in his hands. ? “Good morning, Miss Williams,” he says in a sarcastic tone, “Nice of you to finally join the living.” “Morning,” I mumble back, still half asleep. “Morning?!” He replies, angry now, “What kind of greeting is that?! And speak up! No one can hear you if you speak like a rodent.” “Good morning Mr. Perez,” I corrected myself, much louder. I could definitely hear the exasperation in my voice; no doubt he could, too. “Now, answer question three on the board,” he said with a tone equally as infuriated as mine, “Unless of course that is just too much to ask.” That was it. I was done with this bastard. I have enough of this shit at home; I will NOT deal with this shit at the one place I can escape.

But for the sake of not getting sent to the “dragon lady” again, I look at the math question given to me. It just happens to be fractions: my weakest point in the math subject, and he knew damn good and well about that handicap. “Um, sixteen over fifty-one?” I answer the best I could. “No!” Mr. Perez yells, “It’s from the homework last night, did you not do it?” “No,” I replied honestly, “I was busy and never got around to it.” “Well, it is nice to know school is least important to you in life.” “I’m sorry.” I say as sincerely as possible considering I am literally stopping myself from castrating this man in front of all of my peers. “Don’t apologize to me!” He snapped back, “Apologize to the class for being disrespectful and wasting their time.” I stand up and get close to Mr. Perez, planning to yell at him, explaining the horrible weekend I just had, and that I am in no mood for his bullshit, too. I decided against it; after all, do I really want to bring the public into my very personal life? Hell no. Besides, I don’t owe this fucker a damn thing, let alone an explanation.

I decide to suck it up and look at all of the amused kids around me, “I’m sorry.” I sit down, and can tell my cheeks are turning red because I feel them getting hot. I’m not sure if it is from embarrassment or anger; it’s probably a bit of both, actually. “Maybe next time you can take advantage of free education and do something with your life,” Mr. Perez said, then looked on to Monica, who of course is the class bitch. “Miss Jones? Can you give me the CORRECT answer to question three?” Monica looked at me with a wide smile, obviously scornful, “Eighteen over fifty-two, which reduces to nine over twenty-six.” “Correct,” Mr. Perez said, satisfied, “Maybe Miss Williams can learn from you. That is, if she’s even capable of learning.” With that, more spouts of laughter ejected. What assholes! I hate them all with so much bloody passion. I put my earphones back in and go back to sleep. The bell finally decided to ring, and I wake right up, eager to get the hell out of there. I practically run out of that damn room.