Outcast

Outcast- A single tear

+ Veronica+

*thump thump thump*

I stared out the window quietly as the bus rolled over a speed bump. I had the same routine everyday on the way home from school.

First, I would walk up the steep steps and flash a small, fake smile at the bus driver. Next, I would look at the back of the bus. That was where all of the jerks that hated my guts for no reason sat. I would contemplate killing all the bastards that torture me every day. After that, I would take two steps and count 5 seats back and sit in my usual spot. Then, for the next 20 minutes, I would ignore all the spitballs and paper airplanes thrown at my head as I resisted the urge to get up and run to the back and stab the hell out of all of them.

How does the driver not notice any of this?

I smiled to myself painfully and looked down at my feet. Wouldn't it be nice if this bus crashed and everyone died?

I erased the thought from my head as I I saw my house come into view. The tan, two-story building which I called home. The grass in the front yard was dead and a light brown color. Almost the same color as the house. It looked kinda sad compared to the other houses on either side. Both of their front yards had grass as green as lettuce.

What caught my eye was that there was a car in the driveway. Usually it was empty since I refuse to learn how to drive and buying a car seemed unnecessary. It wasn't just any car though. It was mom's car.

My eyes widen when I recognise the bright red, shiny car with 4 perfectly clean wheels. Seriously, how does she keep it that clean? She must pay for a car wash after every time she goes for a drive.

When the bus rolls to a small stop in front of my house I step onto the sidewalk, trying to restrain myself from skipping. Mom was never home. She was always off in another country of something. Doing who-knows-what. I never really cared enough about it to ask.

"Veronica!" I cringed at the sound of my name coming from the last person I wanted to talk to after today. I turned around and, sure enough, Cole was standing there with a small smile.

"What do you want?"

"Someone's not in a good mood."

"What is it Cole? Have I not made it clear that I want nothing to do with you?" I groaned at him and folded my arms across my chest. I really wanted to get home.

"Well, I wanted to tell you that I'll be riding the bus, only in the mornings." He frowned at my grumpiness and shook his head.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Wonderful." I turned around and continued walking up the sidewalk towards my house. I couldn't help but show a small smile. I hadn't seen my mom in a couple weeks.

When I had finally opened the door a woman stood on the other side of the living room. Her phone was pressed against her ear and her curly, red hair was dangling loosely over her shoulders. Her back was turned to me, but when she turned around she smiled widely, showing her straight, white teeth.

"Hey!" I smiled back at my mom.

She mouthed the words 'Hello' to me and turned back around, continuing to talk on the phone. I tuned out her conversation and dropped my bag on the floor. I stepped into our small, cramped kitchen, rolling my eyes. She's finally home for the first time in a couple weeks from a business trip and she continues to work.

I think it's safe to say that she's a workaholic.

After 10 minutes of searching the kitchen for something to eat, I gave up and trudged upstairs. I wasn't sure on what to do next. I wasn't sure on what to do about Cole, my mom, or Jake. I wasn't sure about anything. Maybe I should just stand back and see how everything works out. Maybe Cole will leave me alone, and change his schedule. I snorted at the thought. Fat chance.

When I got to my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. Jake hadn't talked to me in months. Now, suddenly, he's starting to take an interest in me again. I shuddered at the thought of Jake trying to repeat what he had done two years ago.

I slowly lowered to the floor and pulled my knees close to my chest as the painful memory came flooding back.

"Veronica..."

His rough voice rang through my head. He had a little too much to drink that night. He pushed it too far. A single tear slid down my pale face. I wonder what life would be like if none of it had ever happened. Would I still be as fucked up?

"Jake, please stop."

"Shh. Just stay quiet and you'll be fine."

"Jake, cut it out."

I was so ignorant and naive. I tried fighting back but it was worthless. I was too weak for him. There was no possible way to stop it. I scolded myself mentally. That's what I got for skipping gym and not working on my strength a little more. I stood up quickly and rushed over to my dresser. I looked into the square mirror that hung above it. A girl with long black hair was trapped inside of it. Her eyes had become blood-shot and a lot more than a single tear was falling down her face. The girl's face was traumatized. The girl looked frail and unsteady. This one memory was her weakness.

I pulled back my fist, unexpectedly, and threw it forward with as much force as I could. The mirror shattered into many sharp pieces that were now scattered all over my dresser and the floor. I took a few steps back from the smashed mirror. Had I really just done that? I looked down at my bleeding hands and gulped. There were large shards of glass that were sticking out of my hand. Weird. I didn't even feel the pain. The only thing I felt was anger. I was angry and fragile.