Battered, Tattered, and Bullied

Chapter 3: Self-esteem? What's that?

I squinted my eyes open and groaned. The light, it blinds me. I glanced at my phone, the ringing startling me. I was late, again. I scrambled myself off my bed, my aching arms and legs heavy from my slumber. I looked in the mirror behind my door. It was ugly. Hair protruding from its bun, bags were heavy under its eyes, deeper than an ocean. It was fat too, like an elephant. If only it was thinner, maybe just maybe, hope would crawl out from whatever rock it was under. It wasn't pretty at all. It was me.

    I took my clothes and showered. The water warming me up, like hot chocolate. I could feel the trickling of the liquid running down my face. It was exhilarating. I wore a random black shirt I had grabbed out and a pair of dark washed jeans. I wore a black hoodie on top.

    I sped down the stairs and went to the kitchen. Mom was awake and drinking tea at the table.

    "Do you want anything to eat?"

    "No thanks."

    "Okay."

I didn't need to eat. Eating in the morning made me nauseous. I clutched a bottle of water and shoved it into my backpack with my extra clothes and homework.

I bolted out of the house and to school I went. Darting through people, cars, dogs, cats, and that weird creepy guy down the street because I'm sure he doesn't identify as a human. I finally reached school, pulling my ebony hood on top of my head. Praying that no one would see me. I knew that would never happen. Be happy, I repeated, be happy. For your siblings, if not for your parents. Even if you are their mistake they made. Prove to them that you are somewhat useful.

"Hey! Toilet Paper! I got some shit for you to wipe up," a voice boomed. Fear erupted in my veins, numbing all my senses.

I had to walk to first period. He was bad. Ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore. Close your eyes and he will disappear. Breath, breath, head down, go, go, before they catch you.

"Where are you going, pipsqueak?" A dark, brooding figure suddenly appeared in front of me.

I stood silent. Panic was coursing through my veins, this was becoming more and more frequent. I never understood.

"I asked where you were going!" he roared. I twitched, flinching at his authoritative voice.

"To class,"I whispered, not daring to look up at his face.

"Where?" he demanded

"To class," I said, a bit louder.

"To class! Oh, T.P. you can't go to class," he laughed. The kind of laugh, that prey hear and die right after. "We have to give you a little present first!" He smiled evilly. Four boys came out from the shadows, smirks covering their faces.

A punch flew, right into my left cheek. I could taste the metallic crimson substance invade my mouth. Kicks stabbed me in the stomach, pain filling my organs. I was shoved against a hard wall, throwing thrashing me to the ground. My face was twisting as the torment was being rammed into me. I crawled into a fetal position, my arms trying to block my head, trying to obstruct any torture coming my way. I winced as they kicked my back. I could hear the cracking of my bones at times.

After a while, I couldn't feel anything. I was numb. I didn't even fight back. There was no point, I was going to get thrashed anyway. Instantly, the hitting stopped. I had no energy to look up, my arms and legs barely functioning. Blood was plastered over me like frosting on a cake. I could tell there would be scars left behind. My eyes started to droop, indicating to me that I was tired. Maybe I could sleep my agony away. It wasn't like I could have walked away at all. I couldn't question why I got beaten. But I could question the who.