"Can you go change your shirt?" Those were the first words my mother said to me as I walked into the living room, looking for my shoes.
"Why? I like this shirt." I scanned the room for my shoes. After a while you grow accustom to your mother's constant nagging. Change your shirt, take that off it looks ridiculous and so on. According to her she's 'letting me experiment'. She can't accept that this is how I choose to look like.
So what if my hair has a few unnatural colors in it and if I prefer heavy rock over rap. They act like it's a sin to be different than them. Considering everyone at school takes time out of their 'busy' lives to tell me how depressing my clothes are and to lighten up in the eyeliner.
"Can't you wear something decent for a change. Like something without a saying or band name. I saw this pretty pink shirt with ruffles on my way to work the other day."
"No mother." I really didn't need this right now.
I walked out and found my shoes on the stairway. I slipped on them on, snatched up my book bag and get in the car while mother finished getting ready. I slipped in my ear buds to drown out the world.
Through out the entire car ride my mother was constantly pulling out my ear buds trying to tell me about how stressful her work is getting and how the company would totally come crashing down if it weren't for her.
"Great mother. You can just drop me off here." I said, motioning to the corner about a three blocks away from my school. I knew mother didn't want to be seen with me so dropping me off here would be best for everyone because her work was in the opposite direction.
"You sure. I can drop you off up at the doors if you want." She said but one look in her eyes you could tell she was begging me to say no.
"It's fine." I mumbled as I jumped out of the car. I barely closed the door before she whipped away from the curb. I slowly started my journey to my person hell.
"Look who decided to show her face. Jess The Mess." Chad, the star quarter back, commented as him and his girlfriend, Julia, the captain of the cheer leading squad, strutted their way over to my locker. Totally cliche. Jess The Mess was the name they decided to give me when I started to express my true self back in middle school.
I quickly shut my locker and walked away with them following me.
I walked in my first period, Art, and let out a sigh of relief as I saw them both pass the doorway. I weaved my way to the back of the class and sat in the farthest corner.
The bell rang and the teacher, Mrs. Peterson. She was a fairly young teacher with dark hair and bright blue eyes. She was one of the few teachers here that actually talked to the students like normal people, including myself. She laughed and joked with us all and even was up to date on all the new slang.
She started to explain the new project. We would be drawing a place that we would one day like to visit, all in pencil. I loved this class, I was free to express myself through the projects and I was thankful I was in very small classes even though everyone ignored my presence with the exception of Mrs. Peterson.
Currently I'm a senior in high school. I was wise and doubled up on all my classes and even took some online. It was difficult but managed to get through all my credits.
The only reason I'm still in this place is because I need my fine arts credits. This year I'm only taking Advanced Portfolio and 3-D Art. That's the only two classes I have for the entire day. They just filled up my whole schedule with study halls. Basically I spend all day in the art room with Mrs. Peterson. I really didn't mind at all.
I picked up in some conversations about how someone was going to draw a scene from Paris and another was going to draw a theater in Spain. I silently laughed as everyone raced to the computers to search for a picture of their place.
I got up and walked over to grab a piece of paper to start on.
"Jess, don't you want to search for a picture first?" Mrs. Peterson asked even though she knew I didn't need to look up a picture.
"I think I know what to draw." I smiled before walking to my seat and starting on my dream place.
-
I leaned back in my chair and smiled down at my picture. It was a small, one story house. It had a large backyard with rolling hills in the background. A large oak tree sat up front with a tire swing tied to a branch. A stone path leading up to the front door and breaking off towards the garage.
There wasn't any color since I drew it in pencil but it didn't matter. It was a house that I've always dreamed of living in.
I wanted to draw this for some time and it only took me four class periods. I had regular Art first period and 3-D Art last but Mrs. Peterson said it was okay to stay in her room as long as I didn't distract the other students. I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost time for lunch.
I dreaded lunch period. Everyone always used to make fun of me all at once so I quit going. I've been wandering the halls ever since middle school. I don't eat because I'll only get called fat and I barely talk because they'll twist my words around and make it seem like I'm the bad guy.
I pretended to be getting ready for lunch so no one who suspect that I was really going to the other wing to count the ceiling titles to entertain myself.
The bell rang and the students started scrambling around trying to make their way to get to the front of the line.
I made a sharp right turn and unfortunately ran into someone.
"Good. I don't have to go in there to get you." They said.
I looked up and smiled.
My best friend, Ronnie, was standing there rubbing his shoulder where I ran into him. I jumped into his arms and felt like crying.
Ronnie graduated last year. He was my only friend out of this place and when he left I felt like a piece had gone with him. He was only a year older than me, making him seventeen. He graduated early so he could be an apprentice for a mortician.
Yes, he wanted to be a mortician for his career. Like me, everyone decided to pick on him. His parents died when he was fifteen in a car accident, making him an easy target.
"What are you doing here?" I practically screamed as he took my hand and walked out the front doors like the badass kids who could care less.
"I'm taking you to lunch my dear Jess," He opened the passenger door of his pick up truck and motioned for me to get in. I hopped in the seat and waited for him to come around to the driver's side.
"You know," I said after we pulled out of the parking lot,"I'll be your bestest friend in the world if you don't take me back to that hell hole." I brought out the puppy dog eyes. He couldn't resist these babies.
He gave me a side ways glance but said nothing. In fact he didn't say a single word until we pulled up to the funeral home where he was working at.
I opened my door and waited for him to get out. I looked over and didn't see him. I swear he was there just a second ago. I almost screamed rape when I felt hands snake around my waist and lift me off the ground.
"Come on, I'm starving." He whispered before running through the back door, making me chase after him.
"You're so gonna pay for that!" I laughed as I jumped on his back, making us tumble to the floor. We laughed as Riley, the owner of the funeral home, come into the foyer.
"Now I know why you were in a hurry to get out of here." He smiled. Riley is fresh out of college after getting his degree in business and is running the home due to his father being hospitalized for about a year. "Nice to see you again Jess."
"Good day Riley." I got and gave him a hug,"Can I please say here for the rest of the day. Don't make me go back there Riley Bear." I stuck out my bottom lip.
"Well," He paused for dramatic effect,"I suppose. When's your last day at that place?"
"Exactly one month from tomorrow." I blew out a breath. I was glad school would be letting out for the summer, and me never having to return there. College was always on my mind since I have no idea what to do after high school, maybe a job, it's all still up in the air.
"Well, that's good. Anyways, Ronnie, there's going to be a funeral tonight." He said. I looked down at the floor. No one around here liked the thought of funerals.
Ronnie came up and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Okay." He guided me to the back room.
I've witnessed a few funerals here. Most of the for the elderly but there was one funeral for a infant. That was a hard one to go through. She was sitting in one of those swings and a dog decided to attack it while the mother went to go make a bottle. She was only three days old.
"You want to stay for it or want me to take you back home before?" Ronnie asked as he put us poured coffee into some mugs. I went and sat down on the sofa in the corner as he handed me one.
"Nah it's cool. I don't want to go back to the place either." I rolled my eyes.
My house was a joke. My father only came how from work and watched TV and Mother always was complaining about how I need to get out and get some friends. If only she knew no one wanted to be friends with the local emo.
"Can I stay at your place tonight? I fucking hate my house." I grumbled. He came down and sat beside me.
"You know you're welcome too anytime." He smiled. He chatted easily before he was called back to the morgue. I stretched out on the lumpy soft but ended up falling asleep.
-
Okay. Just the beginning. Lots of information to take in. Sorry for any incorrect spelling or grammar, I didn't get a chance to read over it.
*No I don't think Pit Bulls are vicious dogs. It was requested by one of my very good friends to included the specifics on the incident. I'm sorry if you are offended in any way but I wanted to satisfy my friend. *huff* Now then...
I warn you ahead of time I'm not really a very descriptive person.
I know, I know shoot me if you must.
Picture of Jess on the side.
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