I Hate the Fact

I Hate the Fact (1)

Hayden’s POV.

I saw her in the graveyard; she went there every Tuesday and Friday. I never knew just whom she visited, but I knew the deceased persons’ name: Trina Astarita. I wish I knew more about the girl and her past, but she’d think I’m being nosy and I didn’t even really ever talk to her. She was in quite a few of my classes; she just wasn’t in my History or Spanish class. I sighed quite loudly and shifted my feet, not knowing the stick underneath my checkered converses’. The stick broke in half and startled the girl, making her jump up in surprise and fear. ‘Who is there? I have pepper spray! I’m not afraid to use it either!’ She started speaking louder than I’ve heard her speak before, but it wasn’t at all intimidating. I caught the eyes of her and saw all the bruises and marks on her face. These weren’t visible this morning, and they weren’t as ‘fresh’ looking either. She looked extremely surprised that someone was watching her, ‘Who are you?’ She tried to speak out loud but it came out as a scratchy whisper. She knew I was looking at her bruises and cuts; she quickly turned on her heels and sprinted to her home on LandGraab Avenue. I stood there for a while, mentally cursing to myself that I’d face her tomorrow morning.

Katy’s POV.

I was sitting in my Free Period class, not even paying attention to the studying in front of me that I was supposed to do. Screw Mathematics right now, I have more depressing things to worry about. The thought about yesterday afternoon was horrifying; I had never experienced anything like it. I could still feel the hands around my neck and wrists. My dad was addicted to alcohol, but it’d never had been so bad enough that he was violent. The yelling in my face, the bloody nose and lip, I could still feel it all. I cringed at the feeling of him doing it again, this morning he wasn’t awake so I guess I got off easy. I had worn skinny jeans and an oversized sweatshirt to cover all the things he’s done. The scratches and bruises all up my arms would make it look like they were self-inflicted. And I couldn’t do anything about my split lip except find an excuse about how it had happened: I was running and I tripped on my hardwood flooring, landing pretty hard. The boy yesterday, I knew who he was. He was in most of my classes and I’d have to deal with the questions and he’d try to force them out of me. I didn’t even know his name, even though I’m sure I’ve heard it before. My daydreaming came to an abrupt stop when the bell rang indicating that the class period had ended. I made my way to Art, where I had to face him…

Hayden’s POV.

I saw her in front of me walking, her backpack slung over her shoulder carelessly. I noticed the sudden change of outfit choice: An oversized, very baggy Amish Country, PA sweatshirt, and tight white-distressed skinny jeans. I knew she could have covered the black eye and bruises on her face, but that cut on her lip was for sure noticeable. My friends pulled me over for a quick chat and I made my way into the classroom, she usually sat alone but I went and sat right next to her. ‘You’re sitting with Tree Kissing Hippie, Hay?’ Kristina yelled from across the room. I just nodded her way to give her the hint that I wasn’t going to move. I turned my attention to the girl beside me, ‘Hey, I’m Hayden. Mind if I sit here?’ I said with a friendly smile. I saw the sadness in her eyes but she forced a small smile onto her face, ‘I’m Kathryn, but I go by Katy.’ I nodded, and gave her a quick smile before our teacher started our lesson. As much as I wanted to question her about her lip and what was wrong, I knew she could never trust me if I just forced the answers out of her. That wouldn’t be the gentlemen-like thing to do. Katy… Perfectly cute nickname for a perfectly cute girl, well in my eyes it was. She was petite, only about 5’1. I noticed she had gray eyes with specks of gold and brown in them when the fluorescent lights hit them. It was sort of hard to not notice her eyes when they were the most beautiful feature on her face. She had the cutest small lips and the smallest nose I’ve ever noticed. Everything about her was petite, I’m sure she could fit into the smallest of sizes in the children’s’ clothing section. Her hair was a rusty red color; it was more copper-brown if you want an exact color named. Then I remembered the huge sweatshirt covering her bruised and battered body. Her frame looked even smaller by the huge sweatshirt that didn’t cling to her body shape. Mrs. Williams was starting class when she partnered her up with the person seated next to us.

-----

So how was this first part to my new story? I think it came out quite well, considering it was off the top of my head. I had this idea first in my Literature/English class, and then I had it again in Health class. So, I decided to give it a go and just write it out. I know there may be some grammar/and or spelling mistakes. But, if you’d kindly point them out: I’d change them if you’d like. Also, if you have any ideas or anything you’d like to see in the upcoming part, let me know! I love to know what my viewers/readers think about my work and give me ideas to contribute to my writings.

Thanks a bundle for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Stay alert for new parts!