Trigger Warning - Bullying, Implications of Suicide
"Bye, Dad!" I yelled, grabbing my water bottle. "Come on Sam bus!"
"I'm coming !" Sam yelled in reply, running down the steps. "Bye, Alex!"
"Bye, guys." Dad waved, sitting on the couch.
"I want window seat," I argued, and Sam jokingly pushed me.
"Fine, have it." Sam laughed.
I put my headphones in as I sat down, pressing shuffle on Mayday Parade. I scrolled social media for the bus ride.
When we got to school, I ditched Sam immediately. I take the long ways to classes now. Trying to avoid people. I kept my head down as I walked, usually only teachers walked this way.
"Hey, where are you going?" I took a sharp breath in. Thankfully, it was only a teacher.
"Im going to first period." I answered.
"Why are you walking this way? Usually only teachers do, and I'll walk with you to class."
"Oh, I'm just trying to avoid the crowds and people and stuff." I shrugged. "This, um, is my class. Thanks."
I stepped in, and it was only a few other people were there. I hadn't stopped at my locker though. That was in the midst of everything.
"Ella!" Ms. Palmer said, and my head shot up. Class hasn't started yet. "Can you come here?"
I walked to the front, "Yes?"
"Can you tell me why your grade in my class is a C?" That's not even that bad!
"I'm assuming because I'm missing assignments." I answered.
"Why would you miss assignments?" She asked me, her eyes still glued to a computer screen.
"Because you give so much homework I only have time to do about half of it?" I shrugged. "I don't see the big deal, I get good grades on test and essays, why should a few homework assignments matter that much?" Ms. Palmer sighed.
"Just, try and keep up okay? You can go sit down."
I wasn't able to focus for the rest of class. My mind was set on the fact that dad had made sure I got put in the highest level classes and I wasn't smart enough for any of them.
I want to go home. And I want Jack and Gizmo to come home. Jack had to go to LA and took Gizmo with him so that dad had less things to keep track of.
The class finally ended and I walked to the math room. I didn't understand math. But what did I understand, honestly. This class also threw me off because I had it with people who constantly made fun of me. I sat in the back corner to get away from all of it.
"I think I donated a shirt like that one a while ago..." someone laughed, walking passed my desk. It was just a Nirvana shirt. I rolled my eyes, and filled out the worksheet the teacher gave us. Maybe that's why I can't understand math, because the teacher only gives us worksheets and doesn't actually teach anything.
The rest of the day went unusually slow. Like right before something bad is going to happen, all the events before it seem dull, and slow. That's what t felt like. I somehow managed to survive science, history, general music, and French. I even survived a presentation in French. I could never survive lunch though. I don't even go to lunch anymore. I go to the library and work on homework and missed assignments. I do try, it's just too much and I can't handle all of it.
"I heard she had a panic attack before a presentation in French." Someone whispered as I walked out the front door. Clearly meant for me to hear.
"Can't even do a presentation? She should kill herself already." They laughed and the other agreed and that was that.
I got into the front seat of dad's car, Sam in the back. He picks us up from school in the afternoons.
"How was school?" He asked smiling.
"It was-" I was just about to tell him that it was awful, that made grades are bad and people are bad, but I couldn't bring myself to bother him with my problems anymore, "good. I had a good day dad."
"I'm happy for you! What about you Sam?"
They talked about a test and some football event, as we pulled up to the house.
What if I didn't have to deal with it anymore. The people, the assignments. What if I could make it all go away.