I'm Bad. You're Worse.

Fifteen: Nut House

~~~~~~~~~~~~~15~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Fuck," is the first profanity that escapes from my mouth when I wake up the next morning. Thank God it's finally the weekend again. 

I turn over in bed and slowly remove my bandage, examining my arm.  

I hiss with pain as soon as the bandage comes fully off. 

I hiss again, with disgust this time, as I look over the barely recognizable, slashed-up, swollen, bloody mess that used to be my arm. 

I rub the sleep from my eyes and head to the bathroom to wash my face and change my bandages. 

"G'morning!" Kara greets me cheerily when I emerge into the kitchen a few minutes later. "Morning." I greet in return, pulling my hoodie tighter around myself.  

Wearing it is a necessity if I'm going to get this freaking arm healed before Kara can notice it. 

"We aren't finished," Kara warns, giving me a look, undoubtedly still pissed about my swift escape yesterday.  

"Look, Kara. I'm sorry, alright? You know I have issues with that woman." "I'm sorry too." Kara says simply. "I know she can be a bitch sometimes." She continues, giving me a sad look. 

Long story short, Carmela had already had Kara about two years before I was born. With another man.  

My father hadn't known, and had gotten Carmela pregnant while little Kara had been living with her biological father.  

When I was three, Carmela told dad that she had another child who'd been living with her father for the past two years and my father completely lost it, breaking down and ending up in a mental institute. 

I had to move in with Kara, who was finally free to live with her mother, and Carmela.  

I moved out as soon as I could once I hit seventeen and Kara had forced herself upon me, following suit. 

*** 

After breakfast I rush upstairs to my room immediately and lock the door, beginning the tedious task of changing my bandages. (Again.)  

I jump into bed afterwards and pull out the essay that Jake and I have been working on. 

I'm left handed, so I can't very well write with my fucked-up arm.  

I close my eyes, willing the tears to go away. I won't be able to do anything for the next few months, I realize, letting a small tear escape down my face.  

I sigh and try to hold the pen anyway. I hold it as loosely as possible and find that I can write as long as I'm not in a hurry. 

I'm still writing when I hear a sharp 'tac' on my window.  

Scowling, I get up and move toward my closed window, pulling it open.  

Surprise, surprise, there is Jake, grinning up at me, holding another pebble in his hand, poised to throw. 

"What?" I hiss down at him. He chuckles and asks, "Fancy going out?"  

"Yes." I reply, faking a smile. Jake's grin widens. "Well come on then." He replies.  

"But not with you." I snap, slamming the window shut.  

The pebbles continue to hit my window for a few more minutes, and I finally get up again, heading back towards the window. 

"You know, normal people ring the bell." I call down to him. He simply raises an eyebrow and replies, "I'm not normal then, eh?"  

I shake my head and retreat back inside, slamming my window down once again. 

To my relief, nothing more strikes my window, and I smile to myself, glad to be rid of that son of a- 

The sound of glass cracking emits from my window, and my head shoots up to catch a glimpse of a large, oval-shaped rock, already falling back toward the ground. 

I gasp and run to my window, letting my eyes roam over the nearly shattered glass. 

There is a large crack in the upper left corner of the glass, and it's about as wide as my head.  

I swear, long and hard, allowing myself to spit the words at the glass, then, opening my window, at Jake. "Fuck you!" I hiss, forcing as much anger as I can into my voice.  

"Come out with me. Or I'll be throwing a hammer up there next," he replies with his signature smirk.  

"What makes you think I want your company?" I question, shooting daggers with my eyes.  

If looks could kill, Jake would be lying lifeless on the ground a hundred times over. 

"Just get dressed. You have ten minutes before I throw something else at that window of yours." He threatens, turning around and heading towards his car.  

I swear again and rush around my room, picking up random articles of clothing off the floor. 

My hands close around a neon yellow tank top, bright red shorts, a dark blue denim jacket, a pair of shin-high combat boots and an aqua blue bonnet.  

Maybe the outfit will finally keep him away from me, I smirk, heading to the bathroom to change. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Clever, Lily! But he'll still like you anyway. :P 

Just so you guys know, the hardest part of writing this book is coming up with the names. Especially the LAST names! :O Haha. I'm sure ya'll feel the same when you write, right?

Comment! Vote! Fan! :) 

I love you all!

-Sofi :*