When Avery woke up sobbing and clutching her bedsheets, she wasn't surprised in the slightest. Just a nightmare, she thought. She'd had them since she figured out she was bisexual. It was the same reoccurring dream of her getting outed as bi in front of the whole school and everyone hating her, even her best friends. After Avery calmed herself down, she watched the stars for a few hours contemplating existence until it was time for school. She didn't go back to sleep, for fear of the nightmare. Avery showered and changed into light blue ripped jeans, a The 1975 band tee, and white Adidas. She straightened her hair, and thought fuck it, and didn't bother with makeup. She skipped breakfast as usual, and walked a short walk to Everett High, her dumbass high school. The only thing that made her school worthwhile was her small group of friends.
Avery had only one person that would put up with her, and that was Tayla Beth. She was Avery's best friend. (And frankly, only friend.) While Avery was sensitive and quiet, Tay had a bold personality and was loud and didn't care what anybody said about her.
When Avery walked into school she was immediately greeted by Tay.
"Hey did you hear what happened to fuckface?" Tay said with a grin on her face. (Fuckface was Angelica, your basic popular stuck up bitch.)
"No what happened?"
"James finally dumped her."
My jaw dropped. James was the sweet guy who stuck up for the kids who were treated like shit, and he fell for Angelica's act, and Angelica cheated on him multiple times. I guess he finally snapped.
"Goddamn. Finally he got some sense into him." I said.
"Yeah, no kidding."
We had this conversation while we walked to our first class together, art.
We sat down in our seats next to each other and the bell rang.
"Okay class, you know the drill, get your projects out." Ms. Black said.
Okay I just wanna say this, I fucking suck at art, and Tay is like Picasso I swear. So we both got our projects out, mine looking like shit and hers looking brilliant. The rest of the day went okay, until I got home.
-
I walked up to my front door. I lived in a shitty neighborhood, and with a shitty mother. I creaked the door open and tried to tiptoe as quietly as possible, but to no avail.
"AVERY JONES GET YOU'RE ASS OVER HERE." My psycho of a mother screams. I walk into the living room with my head down and in a small voice I say, "Yes?" Trying not to piss her off more than i already had somehow.
She was obviously drunk off her ass. i look around her and see dozens of bottles surrounding her chair in the living room while the small TV played some food network show.(No surprise.) I knew the drill. I come home, she yells, hurts me in some way (emotionally, physically, or both,) for something I did wrong, and I go up to my room, hating how i lived. Today was no different.
"Why the fuck is the house dirty, i told you to clean it, god you're so fucking useless."
My eyes widened in panic. Shit shit shit shit. I'm so fucking dead. I scrambled to tidy up the house. Threw away garbage, cleaned dirty dishes, and swept the floor as fast as possible. I slowly walked over to her. She glared at me and then smirked.
She punched me in the jaw and stumbled back, wincing from the pain.
"That's for not doing what I told you to when I tell you, dumbass." She took a swig of her beer.
Next, she grabbed a empty beer bottle on the ground and smashed it on the top of my head. I stumbled to my room, tears flowing down my face, and feeling the warmth of the blood from the beer bottle trickle down my forehead. I put bandages and pulled the glass out from my head and cried as silently as i could, not wanting her to hear. I plugged in my headphones to my cheap iPod, while my thoughts consumed me as i cried myself to sleep.
Fucking crybaby.
Stop crying.
You deserved everything she's done to you.
Why don't you just die already?
