Lines | LH

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ALLISON

I fiddled with my cold hands as I sat eerily quiet on the bench outside Mr. Smith's office. It has been my third time to be called in here, and it's making me feel pissed. The quiet environment of the hallway made me feel anxious, like some horrifying monster will pop out any minute and devour me like I'm the smallest thing he ever ate.

I knew the next day I will be sent to the Save Lives Support group, where I'll be sitting with other suicidal people, discussing our own miserable story for everyone to hear. I didn't talk much, I just ignored every question that crossed my border— one that hit a vein. I hated one kid, his name was Ford, and he was just so annoying that I sometimes felt like he did it on purpose.

He was asking questions about how I had a stupid crush on Luke Hemmings. Yes, he was my schoolmate, and he was in my year too. Ford knew that I liked Luke. Everyone does. And they bullied me like I'm a piece of rotten meat.

Ford Raviens was a jock, he's famous, but he warned me not to say a single word to anybody, because it'll ruin his reputation. I did keep his dirty little secret, but I had a deal with him that he'll keep his eerie little mouth shut and stop teasing me about my so called 'obsession' with Luke, or I'll spread his secret– that he's Bulimic.

Nice, right? I managed to scare the little jock away.

I was snapped out of my silent thoughts when I heard someone clearing their voice on my right. Of course. It's time for me to have some 'serious talk' with the principal.

"Miss Allison Fleurs." He said plainly calm, almost that his expression showed pure frustration. I stood up slowly from the cold metal bench, making my jean covered thighs feel hot as the bench felt cold before. I entered his office, the smell of his musky cologne making me scrunch my nose up in pure disgust.

I have never smelt perfume as strong as this before. It was too strong for my nose to handle. Either way, I just decided that I'll  hold on it for a few minutes. I'll just stay here and listen to his long speech about me 'killing myself'.

"Please sit." He pointed to the jet black leather seat placed in front of his desk. I followed his demand and sat down on the black chair. It felt warm again, more warmer than I have ever felt before. He soon sat down on his own large office chair, resting his thin back.

"So, I have heard. Again." He said in his manly musky voice, as I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at my brown oxfords. "I'm sorry." Was all I had thought to say, and I squeezed my eyes shut, realizing my idiocy towards him.

"You know I'm just concerned, and it has been the third time that you have been sent here. Thankfully Jenna Rickards told your teacher that you have cut yourself again."

Oh that bitch? Yeah, Jenna Rickards. She just dug into my nerves everytime, and she was the perfect definition for plastic.

"Really? Jenna Rickards? It's been a week since I've even cut my fucking self!" I kind of made a sudden outburst, which made him flinch a bit. I suddenly regret what I have said. "I'll just call your parents." He grabbed the phone but I grabbed his hand before he can even touch the phone. I didn't want my parents to pick me up again. No.

"No. Please. Look, I'm sorry for shouting at you Mr. Smith, but please don't call my parents." I pleaded, wearing a sad expression in my eyes. "I'm sorry, but I have to." He shook his hand from my grip, which made me slump back into my seat.

I leaned my head back as I looked up at the ceiling, imagining things. Things ranging from if I was on another world, with another family, another personality, somewhere clean and good, where my parents wouldn't be tired of my freakshows and attention seeker days.