Impact | #1

one

The bright sun beamed through the window, letting me know the dreaded morning had come earlier than expected. My will power was wholly focused on going back to sleep but unfortunately for me, the ragged rug I called my bed only provided comfort when I was begging for sleep or I was already knocked out.

Knowing that Logan and the poor excuse for a mother would only be back a few hours after school finished I decided on trying to get another 5 minutes, if I was late the school would call him and I'd inevitably receive a beating.

I tossed and turned for those exact 5 minutes, mentally cursing the rug I had spent 8 years sleeping on.

Everything was fine for the first few years...well, better. I would sleep on a mattress in the upstairs room, it wasn't so bad seeing as they would feed me, when I turned 5 I got my responsibilities. I had to occasionally bring them beers and clean the house to the best of my abilities.

Only when I was 7 did I first get hit. At first I thought it was my fault, I made them angry and they had the right to. I had few things to do and I didn't do them properly, so it was justified. My train of thoughts went like that until I turned 11.

I realised that it wasn't my job to make food, clean the house, take beatings. Occasionally I stood up for myself, like a few days ago when I called my step-mother, Katie, a hoe. Good times. After that I did learn to keep my mouth shut though.

Since it did land me many bruised ribs, one broken. It was what I was used too. After years of it, you do get the occasional phobia or...something.

Snapping out of my thoughts I suddenly remembered I had to get to school. Putting slight pressure on my ribs, I pushed myself up and walked over to the wardrobe and pulled my signature oversized hoodie on. It had been with me for all these years and it had the initials R.H printined onto the back.

I slid a pair of ripped jeans on to match and then my converse. I lifted my hoodie to see the state of my ribs. They were a dark purple colour with that moldy yellowish green surrounding it.

Grimacing at the sight I quickly dropped it back down and trudged downstairs to the kitchen after grabbing my earphones and worn out iPod.

I poured a glass of water before gulping down 2 painkillers.

Hopefully the pain will subside in a bit, I thought to myself.

Picking up my bag, I propelled myself to get the 20 minute walk out of the way. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I put my earphones in and pressed on my playlist. The Chainsmokers started blasting in my ears, their songs always made me feel upbeat, even when I had school edging closer.

Soon enough I arrived in the large school and made my way to my locker. I placed my iPod and earphones in not bothering to get my books out seeing as my grades ranged from D to the occasional C. Never in my life had I got higher and the principle threatened me with being held back a year.

Slamming the locker shut out of newfound aggravation I locked it and made my way to maths, a colourful and lively scowl decorating my face.

In the end I was 5 minutes late anyway but, a common occurrence for me. I wasn't a bad student...per say, but I just genuinely didn't understand any subject after only starting school when I turned 10. Also, my temper didn't quite go 'I can just walk away, no need to resort to violence'. Luckily no one really bothered me.

Casually strolling in I focused on getting to my seat but was stopped by an incessant voice I had come to loathe.

"Ms. Davis, why are you late?"

I turned to stare at my maths teacher, evil I tell you. Evil.

"I simply am." I replied nonchalantly.

She was about to shout at me but the intercom came on.

"Please could Mrs. Davis report to my office immediately." Principle Webster's voice echoed around the room.

The teacher gave me a smug smirk but I flipped her off and started toward my regular hangout.

The principles office.

We had a deep bond, him and I. I was in there almost every day for not handing in homework, swearing at a teacher or as I like to say, being my awesome self.

I knocked twice on the door, waiting for a reply.

"Come in."

Turning the door knob, I pushed the door open to see the principle giving me a pitying look. This confused me, usually he gave me a scowl, or a glare or had his head on the table in disappointment.

"Please, take a seat Victoria." He gestured to the seat opposite him. I hesitantly made my way there and sat down, slumped.

It seemed to take him a while to gather himself up before he took a deep breath and said, "Your Father and step-mother were in an accident."

"They, they didn't make it."

Time froze.

What did he say? But, that means...I- i won't have to go back.

"How?" I questioned, reluctant.

"The police said they were on their way to a shop when they crashed, they were both drunk."

I slumped down in my chair further, had I expected anything different. No, not really. But I always thought if one of us was going to die it would be me, the worthless one who they were forced to house.

It hit me that I had no other relatives, I would have to go to an orphanage.

"Victoria?" The principle asked, giving me a worried look.

"Where will I go now?"

"Well, if you had no other relatives you would be transferred into the local orphanage-". He started, but I cut him off.

"I don't have any other relatives." I stated, shrugging slightly.

"Well, you do. It seems you have...8...older brothers, the eldest has already agreed to take custody of you."

He's kidding. He's actually kidding. 8. 8 older brothers. No, there's been a mistake.

"Principle, I'm sure something's wrong, I do not have any other family." I protested.

He sighed.

"You'll be at the airport later on today, I'm sorry Victoria."

~ ~ ~

First chapter is up!

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