Comment and vote to tell me if you want me to post part 2!
'Would I always go through this?' I thought to myself, staring in the mirror.
Why did I have to bruise so easily? Why couldn't I stop talking back to my so-called "parents"? Oh, right, beacause I'm a stubborn idiot. I continued to stare at my battered body. I could see easily why the kids at school didn't want to talk to me.
Sure, I could be beautiful. If my life were better, that is. I had an hourglass figure with long legs and nice-sized breasts, but I was too skinny. I had high cheekbones, full pouty lips, big blue eyes, and a cream compection, but my face was always covered with bruises and I had dark circles under my eyes from little sleep. I had carmel curls that cascaded down my back, but they had turned stringy from improper hair care.
That was me. And I didn't know why. I didn't know what had happened to my real parents. All I know is that I was dumped on the people I live with's door step one day, and was always considered a nuiscance by them. I sighed. There was nothing that I could do about my looks today. I turned to look out my window. The sun was just coming up over the horizon.
I always watched the sun come up. It was one of the few beautiful things in my life. I sighed at the colors, as I headed mindlessly toward my closet. I didn't have many clothes, and the ones that I did have were hand-me-downs, but I couldn't complain. They were better than some kids had. I pulled out jeans that had holes in the knees and frayed edges, and a plain pink t-shirt.
I went to my dresser and found a scrunchii to tie my hair up with. I put on some concealer, not that it helped much. I looked in the mirror again. I looked a lot better. Maybe I didn't look great or even ok, but 'better' was the closest I was going to get.
I walked downstairs, hours before anyone would wake up. That was perfectly fine with me. I didn't really feel like being yelled at before I went to school, practically my only safe haven. Why couldn't school last forever?
I grabbed a granola bar on my way outside. I glanced at the shiny silver porche in the drive way, fantisizing about driving it to school. Of course, that wasn't my car. It was Marissa's. My car was an old, beat up, run down station wagon. The car that almost never started, and that broke down constantly. I suppose that it could be worse. I could be walking to school. I laughed to myself. Didn't I usually end up walking anyways?
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you who Marissa was. Marissa was my prissy, stuck-up bitch of a 'sister'. She was just plain aweful. She was another one of the reasons that none of the kids would talk to me. The whole school would be turned against them if they did. The whole shool turned against me. She was also the reason that I got hit. She was a lier, but she was also daddy and mommy's little princess.
I opened the door of my car, shooting a glair at the widow where Marissa's bedroom was. I quickly put my car in start and headed to school, surprised that it actually started. It was still early, but the janitor let me in. He was used to me coming early to school. I smiled and thanked him, as I turned to walk towards my locker.
"You look worse today," he commented.
I was so stunned that he actually spoke that I turned around. He was leaning on his mop, looking in my direction. "What?"
"I said that you look worse today. You really should report your foster parents."
I sighed. "I know. But if I did, I wouldn't have anywhere to go. Some home is better than no home. Don't you think?" I was still stunned that he was talking to me. He pretty much never said a word.
"But is that place where you live really home?"
"It's the only home I know," I said simply. I turned and walked to my locker.
'Was the house my home?' I thought. 'Could it be?' I heard somewhere that home is where the heart is. If that's true then my home is in the sunrise, the only thing in my life that I love. That was a pretty thought, my home in the sunrise. I leaned against my locker and tried to picture it.
I was still trying to picture it when I notcied that the first few early birds were trickling in to the school. I turned around to my locker, and put my book bag in it, while taking out the things I would need for first period. I yawned and headed toward homeroom, still trying to picture it, when I bumped right into somebody and fell down.
The boy turned around. I gasped. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen! He had a sweet look on his face, concern for me. His baby blue eyes looked like they were in a constant dreamy state. His shaggy black hair fell into his eyes at an angle. "Are you OK?"
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. There was no way I could be friends with him. Not when I knew what would happen if I did. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said looking up. My hair fell out of my face and now it was his turn to gasp.
"Are you sure? You don't look fine."
"No, I mean, yeah. I'm fine."
"If you're sure..." he said offering me his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. "I'm Austin by the way."
"I'm Stephanie." I smiled. 'No stop. You can't be friends with him,' I thought at myself, but I couldn't seem to get myself to walk away.
"Well, Staphanie, maybe you could show me around. I'm new here." That would explain why he was talking to me.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea. I have to get to homeroom," I said in an attempt to make him stop talking to me. I wasn't the kind of girl that wanted to bring someone down with her.
"Which homeroom do you have?" he asked, half smiling. 'Gosh, he has a beautiful smile,' I thought to myself. It seemed like the moment I thought that, his smile grew wider.
"I have Mrs. Greggors."
"Really? I have her, too." 'Great,' I thought, sarcastically. This was going to be interesting.
