Burning Reality

Chapter 1

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"You doe-eyed freak!" a redhead boy screamed a small girl, each barely nine years old, and both in fourth grade and attending the same school. "Why doncha run away to the woods to be with your family, or would you even be able to keep up with all the deer? You're too slow anyway.?" The redhead said, grabbing the girl by her backpack and pushing her roughly into a fence.

The girl said nothing. She simply gathered her balance, shoved her hands into her jacket pocket, and continued down the small road leading to her one destination, her one safe haven. Her room, surrounded by endless books and writing utensils so she could write down stories and diary entries to her heart's content.

"Hey, forgot how to speak the human language freak?" Mocked the redhead, the tone of his voice implying strong hate to the shorter girl.

"It's called speaking English." The girl said, voice nearly inaudible under the redhead's laughing. She glanced up at the boy, fear written in every little crevice in her face. "I'm s-sorry!" She stuttered quickly, her whole body tensing up in fear the the boy would hurt her.

"What was that? I didn't hear you!" The girl winced, taking her hands out of her pockets just in case she had to defend herself from the obviously stronger boy.

"I said I'm sorry." She said, then took off running. Sadly, days of staying inside and no communication to the outside world did not work in the poor girl's favor. The redhead easily caught up with her, and grabbed the little girl by her hood. "Let me go Tristin!" She shouted, her hands instinctively reaching up to protect her face, knowing her mother would be distressed if she got home with a black eye or a broken nose.

"Not until you tell me what you said." The redheaded Tristin spat, spraying spit all over the girl's face, nearly suffocating her with the force he was tugging her hood with.

"It's called speaking English, not the Human Language." The girl whimpered voice barely audible and cracking, eyes brimming up with tears, she was struggling to get the stronger boy's hands off her hood. Barely moments after she finished speaking, Tristin threw her into the dust and kicked her side. The unfortunate little girl whimpered like a lost and hurt puppy, and curled up in a ball, knowing she wasn't strong enough to take on this fit and healthy boy looming over her, knuckles most likely hardened and calloused from punching all his old victims, each weaker and more pathetic than the one before.

"Watch your mouth Doe, what would your poor old mother say to your sassy attitude?" Tristin spit on the ground next to him.

"My name is Lexi, not Doe. Maybe if you happened to use those ears for listening to anything but the rumors spread around the school and your friend's jokes, you might have the decency to stop calling people rude names." The girl on the ground hissed, forcing herself off the ground and brushing dirt off her side. "Maybe you should watch your attitude. I don't think I have ever seen you say please, thank you, or sorry in your life, and just maybe you should start caring for the people who have tried to show you that being mean isn't the only way to express yourself or your feelings."

The ginger boy was shocked into silence. All these years hanging around the shy side of this weak little girl named Lexi, he never noticed the small mask she wore around her little hazel eyes and mouth was breaking. After about ten seconds of silence, Lexi stormed off, thrusting her hands back into her pockets, and letting her posture slide back to it's usual hunched over self.

Lexi quietly opened the door to her house, making sure it didn't creak. She didn't want to disturb her mother or brother, who both worked night and day shift to support their falling apart family. They were usually sleeping by this time of day unless they had to work overtime. With Lexi's dad always missing and never helping paying taxes or even getting groceries, no one in Lexi's family had even a dollar to spend on pass time activities or personal pleasures like other kids at Lexi's school.