Broken

Chapter 2

I woke up at 6:49 in the morning. I jumped up. School started at eight. The school bus would be here in six minutes. I was toast, the burnt crispy kind you leave too long in the toaster and you feel guilty for turning it into ashes. I pulled on a flannel shirt and jeans as quickly as possible. I laced my Converse as I hopped down the stairs on one foot. I rounded the corner and slid into the kitchen in record time. My mom was cooking some sort of goop on the stove and toast. It smelled like our neighbor's dog, D'Artagnan, who one time ate part of our toaster and had thrown it up over the stove, which had been cooking our dinner.

No, I have no idea how he got in the house in the first place, but that day was horrendous and I was required to clean it all up. Anyway, moral of the story, my mom sucks big time at cooking, like me. So, breakfast was always a struggle. I poured some of the ashes out of the toaster onto a plate and attempted to spread some butter and strawberry jelly on it. Cassie was trying to swallow the goop, and Andrew was nowhere to be found, like usual. I stood and threw away my food, plate and all.

"Good morning, Bethany," said my mom, in her usual cheery tone, although the bandages on her face said otherwise.

I hugged her. "Good morning, Momma."

"School bus will be here soon."

"Yes I know."

I grabbed my book bag and was about to rush out the door when she stopped me.

"I need you to get Cassie from school today."

I gave her a strange look. "Momma, I can't drive."

"I know. But, she must be picked up and it will be your responsibility, no matter what, understand?"

I nodded, totally oblivious to the whole "no matter what" situation that was going down here.

"May I ask why?"

"Your father and I have to the doctor for a routine checkup. I won't be able to get her and neither will your brother. I'm sorry."

I nodded again and ran out the door, shouting, "Love you! Bye!"

I heard my mom call back, "Love you too! See you tonight!"

I began my sprint to the bus stop. Now, while we are in this stretch of a couple of minutes, why don't I share some information about myself? Great! Hello, I am Bethany Cornelius. I am sixteen years old. If you're wondering why I don't have my license, why don't you ask my father? I have brown eyes and long chestnut hair. I'm fairly tall, but short enough so that every, single male can be taller than me. I hate mushrooms and asparagus. I also HATE my dad. Now I have to go to school with a black eye, with the excuse that my sister and I got into a fight.

I was there, at the bus stop just as the bus turned the corner. I didn't pass out from exhaustion, fortunately. If I had, the bus driver would have considered the bus stop "empty" and would have continued down the road, while the rest of the bus "ooed" and "awed" over Beth's body on the ground in a ball. The bus driver was forced to stop and I dove into the bus. The bus driver found it funny to open the doors for five seconds then shut them. Well, it was not funny. I managed to make it in without losing a limb.

I resisted the urge to growl at the bus driver as I passed. What a jerk. I descended deeper into the horrible bus and tried to find a seat. You could say that I was friendless at this school, maybe because I was the one with the abusive father. So I blame my father for my nonexistent social life.

Well, school isn't important in this story, so we'll just skip that. So, I was walking to get Cassie from school. The elementary school was a mile from the high school, fortunately. I hitched a ride on some middle schooler's bike for ten bucks. He was rambling on about his thoughts on the apocalypse that scientists were predicting. I had zoned out, because I had already heard about it. Everyone had, actually. The world was terrified and most people were freaking out and buying a bunch of stuff in preparation. Everyone was getting the vaccination that's supposed to prevent it. Even though my parents are getting the vaccination, my dad thought it was a bunch of BS. But, I had a knife by my bed and a bat with a homemade pouch to carry it in. I honestly didn't think it would happen, but I wanted to feel safe.