Pain

4

Chanel:

I got up, and got ready for school at 7:30 am. I brushed through my knots of hair, and I brushed my teeth. I picked up a nice outfit. ripped denim shorts, and a nice long sleeved, white top.

"Chanel! Come on, breakfast is ready." My dad called out from downstairs. I sighed, walking into my bathroom and staring at my reflection in the mirror.

"Maybe just... A little makeup... Will do." I mumbled to myself, and applied a little mascara on my eyes, and foundation on my face. I smiled slightly at my reflection.

"Chanel!" My mother yelled, impatience clearly in her voice. I sighed once again, leaving my room, and trudging down the stairs.

"I'm coming! I would appreciate it if you didn't call my name every five minutes. I was just getting ready for school." I told them, and she sighed. My dad dumped some scrambled eggs and bacon on a plate. I laughed a little.

"You know, cereal would have sufficed." I joked, earning a playful roll of the eyes from my father.

"Sorry, your majesty. I guess you will have to settle for this." He shot back, sticking his tongue out.

"Fine. Ill spare your life, but just this once." I said, and stuck my tongue out at him. I grabbed the plate, and started to dig in.

--

The school bell rang, indicating that it was time for lunch. I sighed. Half my school day was gone, and all that happened, was people kicking me, and locking me in a janitors closet. A few hours of pounding on the door and yelling for help later, the janitor came in and I ran to my next class, being scolded for my tardiness by my teacher. Of course, I couldn't flip off the teacher for anything... So I listened unwillingly, and sat at my desk for the remainder of the period.

Two more fucking months of this torture...

I walked into the cafeteria, with my lunch in hand, and sat at an empty table. Again. I took a bite into my sandwich. Ugh, it's tuna. I hate tuna...

I set the sandwich back in the bag, and took out my crisp five dollar bill. I walked to the lunch line, with eight people ahead of me.

I was thinking about how my life is fucked up, until someone snapped in my face repeatedly.

"Are you going to order?" An impatient voice called from behind me. I nodded timidly, and walked up. The line went fast...

I went up to the lunch lady.

"What will it be?" She asked, uninterested.

"A... Number four?" I asked, and she nodded.

"$5.10 please." She called out. I rolled my eyes. Of course it's over my limit. Shit. Ten fucking cents, ill shove them up her...

"That will be $5.10 please!" She demanded, even more impatient than the last time.

"Just this once, can I give you five dollars for it?"

"No, $5.10. It's the cheapest thing here, too." She said, seeming to read my mind. I shook my head.

"Okay, never mind then." I sighed, putting my money back in my pocket, and sat at my table with the disgusting tuna. Ten cents over the limit. Fuck.

suddenly, I saw Christian sanders coming my way. My knees felt weak, and my heart rate was quickening. Not because I like the bastard... All though he is pretty cute... But because he's probably coming over here to hurt me, physically or mentally. Crap. I shrunk in my seat as he approached me, and he sat across from me.