Written With Lies

Chapter 2

"let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the Floooooooooooor!!!!!" I roll over turning my alarm off. Five-thirty A.M. So early, yet i need to get ready. i scoot out of bed walking towards the closet. Should i be girly or totally dorked out in boyish clothes? I never know what to be. So many lies , so many thoughts. I choose a black and red top with lace across where the cleavage can be shown and my jeans that make my butt look totally hot. I grab the pretty little thong that my mom bought me at spencers, along with the matching bra.  I get dressed and put my hair in a bun, putting on my fake gauges.  Lightly doing my make up, trying to decide which lipstick goes better.  I finally choose the black one and start applying it. when i finally look at the time its six-twenty five, the bus comes in like ten minutes.  I grab my new Joker bag and head out the door.  Yes i am a joker die hard fan. The bus stops and i get on looking for a seat i find one in the very back. Not the best seat in the house, it looks like crap and smells like sex. Guess that would explain why no one sits here. Anyway at least i'm away from others.  There are many different things that could happen. Okay first period is civics, hmm basically history class. Sounds fun to me.  I walk into the cafeteria i look around not many people i know here, or at least recognize. Things go from one way to another real fast. "hey girl long time no see" i turn and its Darla, a friend who back stabs people and acts like nothing happened. I slightly wave as she walks by i mumble "bitch" under my breath hopefully she didn't hear that. I walk thought the line grabbing a thing of doughnuts and yogurt. " Fatty: i hear someone mumble, i frown and put the doughnuts back. "MOOOO!" i hear a few guys joking. " Fat ass cow" i hear another say. I run towards the bathroom hiding in there eating breakfast. Lately i read about self harm, ive heard it helps cope with bullying. You cut or burn or hurt yourself to a point where it feels good. I grab the scissors out of my bag and run them across my left wrist. I gotta admit i feel a little better, but now i have to hide it. I wash up and move twords the door. Heading to first period civics. I look like a mess, especially with this secret i have to keep so tightly yo myself. No one can ever find out.