Suicide Games

Chapter 1

I climb out of bed the next morning at six from the blaring of my alarm, my body drunk and sluggish with fatigue. Snow lightly dots the dead grass outside and I shiver, anticipating the long trek to school. I take a quick two minute shower, turning the water temperature as hot as it will go, but it feels like I am standing outside, bracing against the bitter winter wind as it bites into my hollow body. I dry my hair quickly, combing it into a messy high ponytail and put on a couple of layers of clothes.

                “Hi Honey.” My mom greets me softly as I come down the stairs, clad in her soft pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. She takes a sip of her hazelnut coffee, wrapping her bony fingers around the mug. “How’d you sleep?”

                “Fine,” I nod, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. I sit down at the table, staring at a small white dot on the granite. “You?”

                “Great, fantastic even.” I look up at her withered face, taking in the deep black circles under her once sparkling jade eyes. What a lie. Her pale lips turn up into a broken smile, filled with so many cracks and sores from endless nights of licking her lips, worrying about the infinite possibilities that awaited us the next day. I gulp, guilt racking through every cell in my body. She can never know what we did. Her heart can’t be broken again.

                Holding in a cry, I slip out of my chair, dumping out my drink in the sink, and slip my backpack over my left shoulder. I brace myself and open up the door as I slip on my gray gloves, ready to leave when a defeated voice calls out to me. “Wait, Kaylee.”

                I turn around, facing my mother who leans against the counter, twisting her hands together. “Yeah?”

                “You want anything to eat? I can make you some French toast or even some pancakes. You know, when you were younger, you and Emma used to love…” She stops, her breath catching as she realizes whose name she just said.

                I bite my lip, turning away from her stricken face. “I’m fine mom.” My voice comes out wobbly, a stranger to my own ears. I suck in a breath, straightening my posture and fixing my hair. “Bye.” I call out to her, as I close the door, opening the garage and starting the walk to school.

                My boots leave a trail of petite footsteps on the ground, looking as if they belong to a small child. I throw my head back to the charcoal sky, the snow falling lightly on my nose. A long brick building comes into view, surrounded by a parking lot full of cheap and used cars. School. How I loathed this place.

                I let out a loud sigh and slowly trot up the ramp to the entrance, the door struggling under my grip as the wind tries to slam it closed. A frustrated cry errupts from my lips and I finally open the door, slamming it behind me. Suddenly I am lost in a sea of students that are milling about, chatting excitingly about our upcoming Winter Break.  I try to shove my way through a group of seniors but fail misserably as I bounce off one of them, falling to the floor.  They don't even notice, barely giving me a glance as I pick myself up and rub my sore arm that I fell on. I am invisible. Nothing more than a tiny speck on the ground we walk on.

              I make my way to the ninth grade locker bay, throwing down my backpack in a heap next to me. After I unload my stuff into my locker, my eyes sweep across the room to look for someone to chat with but there is no one. I am one of the schools outcasts.

              There was a time when I had friends, four of them, but all that is history. I've changed in so many ways from the me I was last year. No one likes the girl that came back this past september, guiet and unsure of herself. No one likes the girl that flinches when someone comes near her.  But you can't change who you are. You can only hide it and some are better at it than others.

              I flicker my cornflower blue eyes once more across the laughing faces of my classmates and they lock on a tall girl with a purple streak running through her jet black locks. Addison. She pauses talking with another girl as if she senses me staring at her and turns toward me, her green eyes lined with black coal softening as she sees me. Addison's stare pierces through me, bolting me in place. She shakes her head slowly, her lips pursing up as her eyes fill with tears. I look away, gathering my things as I power walk to class.

             Addison was one of my former best friends. She was part of the horrible things all of us did last year.