Monday morning of week two. My alarm went off with some local radio station, playing Awake up by the Vamps. I groaned as I lazily pushed myself to sit up, my hair rolling over my head and across my face.
"And that was the Vamps," the radio announcer began his morning banter with his female co-host; I didn't know either of their names since I rarely ever paid attention.
"And now, here's our very own, lovely, miss Marley Rose." They said fake, excitedly.
As a girl started to sing an gentle song on guitar, I yawned, starting to fall back asleep. Rolling out of the bed, I took the quilt with me as I fell to the ground, hitting it with a heavy thud.
"Ouch," I muttered with a face full of floor.
"Josephine!" I heard my mum yell out from downstairs. "Get ready! You've got school!"
"Thanks mum." Mumbling, I rolled my eyes as I pushed myself up.
Okay, it's a new start to a new week. It's like last week didn't even happen. I can start again... That is if I can actually find the courage to talk to someone.
Hitting the alarm clock to shut it up, I plugged in my iPod and Electric Light Orchestra, Mr Blue Sky came pounding out.
Dancing, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, the icy cold water poured over me.
"The sun is shining in the sky," I sang along as I danced, messing around with the shampoo in my hair. "There ain't a cloud in sight. It's stop raining, every body in a play. And don't you know; it's a beautiful, new day. Heyeheh."
Finishing my shower, I quickly wrapped a towel around myself. "Running down the avenue, see how the sun shines brightly, In the city on the streets where once was pity, Mr. Blue Sky is living here today. Heyeheh."
I flicked trough my clothes. "Mr. Blue Sky, please tell us why, You had to hide away. For so long where did we go wrong."
I pulled on my clothes and started on my makeup. "Hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race. A celebration Mr. Blue Sky's, up there waitin' and today; Is the day we've waited for-"
"Josephine! Turn down the music and get down here already!"
With a sigh, I turned down the music, calling back. "Okay, I'll be down in a second."
Quickly I checked myself in the mirror. My brown hair had a copper tint to it, it was dead straight, well past my shoulders.
I'd always hated haircuts, I avoided them at all coast; they were too expensive anyway. My hair was healthy though, it was surprisingly resilient; I hardly ever got splint ends.
I was wearing a white shirt, with light blue long sleeves; it was a little large for me, which helped hide my awkward fitting bra. A plain pair of jeans; they were faded at the knees and pretty worn out from wearing them for around three years (I hadn't really grown since the sixth grade).
I liked keeping my makeup simple; I just put on mascara and eyeliner and my eye shadow like most days.
"Okay, now today you're just going to walk up to someone and say hi." I told myself in the mirror. "No thinking just go up, and say.... Hi..."
"Kids!" I heard Danny call out from downstairs. "Breakfast!"
As fast as I could I sprinted downstairs. In our one story, three bedroom house, the twelve of us lived.
In order of age there was; dad, mum (master bedroom), Danny (shed), me (attic), the first twins, Will and Peter (2nd bedroom), John, (2nd bedroom), Sally (3rd bedroom), the second twins, Ally (3rd bedroom) and Jess; who is a boy; (2nd bedroom), and Tilly, the baby, (3rd bedroom).
You can understand why I'm running to breakfast. If you don't get their fast everyone will eat all the best stuff and or everything.
Unfortunately I was last; as usual. The girls in bedroom three were the closest to the kitchen, then the boys in bedroom two. Technically Danny was always furthest since he was in the shed but he always cooked the breakfast so he'd eat, give mum hers; dad leaves for work at three in the morning so doesn't get breakfast with us; then Danny calls and we fight for food.
Today was scrambled eggs day, and the big pot in the middle which was meant to hold the eggs was empty and all of the toast was taken. I frowned as Danny threw an apple at me.
"Thanks." I took a bite into the sour fruit. I loved apples."L do you know gods of death love apples."
"Deathnote." He said back. This was our game. We'd say a relevant quote or reference and the other would guess what from. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah." I sighed, "Just let me grab my bag."
At the front door were all our bags, lined up in order of youngest to oldest. You could see how the age progressed, Tilly had a pink barbie back pack for preschool; when she was old enough to go. It was old and dirty and had gone through all the other girls. Jess had Danny's old blue truck bag, and Ally had plain purple bag; it was the newest one since she broke hers playing tug a war with it. Sally had a light blue one that she'd kept neat and unbroken for a few years now, John had a red sports branded bag, Will and Peter both had green ratty back packs that they refused to replace, I had a canvas messenger bag with my badges on it (I bought it myself not too long ago) and then Danny had a plain black backpack.
I grabbed ours and met my brother outside at the motor bike. We couldn't afford a car so Dad caught the train, and mum caught the bus to work and me and Danny bought a motor bike so we could get to school. It was an old vintage bike, pretty cheep, but we fixed it up and it works surprisingly well.
I liked it.
I put on my helmet and sat behind Danny, who only seconds later shot off. We road in silence, as usual.
Me and my brother were really similar. We weren't talkative people. We were both pretty quiet. Through having a big family, you learn to not get a lot of attention, and we both kind of became used to blending into the background. So despite being hated by everyone, no one actually knew who I was.
But strangely enough me and Danny manage to be able to talk to each other pretty easily. Sadly enough he was my only friend; well, there was Rosie but I only saw her on holidays or family events and stuff like that. After all they lived a three hour car drive away, and hiring a car had a heap of hassle.
As we got to school, I passed him his bag and he gave me my lunch and we went our separate ways.
"Oh and remember to talk to someone!" he called out after me.
I rolled my eyes. I so had this.
I didn't have this!
There are so many people around me right now! I can't handle it knowing I need to talk to one of them.
Just chose! One person. Go right up and say...
"Hi..." wait was that me? That was me! I said hi to someone! Success!
"Hey," he turned to face me.
Crap. Now what? I didn't think this far ahead. All I had was hi. My heart started pounding, and I could feel sweat on the small of my back.
"I-ah-a-a, um..." I stuttered. Words refused to form and, panicking, I just turned and walked away without another word.
I could just feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. I was such an epic failure.
Damn it.
.................................................................................................................
When lunch time came around I still hadn't recovered from this mornings meeting, not to mention my Spanish teacher called on me in class today; I stuttered like an idiot and spluttered out the answer, which I pronounced wrong. Everyone laughed at me.
I still couldn't talk to anyone and still didn't have a place to sit. The one problem was; or really, the, like, fifth problem was, that the girls bathroom was out of order and the only way to get to a toilet for a girl was the visitors toilets in the office which was kind of out of the question for me.
Just going into the office, smiling casually and stuttering an explanation on how you needed to eat in the toilets... That didn't sound the way I wanted to, and I know I'd manage to say something even worst in real life.
Mental face palm.
So in search of a new place to eat, I ended up in the choir room.
It was eerily quiet; ironic since it was a music room. There were several steps at the back of the room where chairs were stacked, and on the wall across from me was a trophy display case where several big trophies were.
But my attention went to the instrument stand. I loved music. We could never really afford any instruments but I use to love music class in middle school, and my teacher told me I had talent.
But when I got my jobs and studies became harder I didn't really have time for it anymore.
My hand ran over the guitar, feeling its smoothness. Gently, I picked it up in my hands and began to play.
Dragonforce!
My fingers were moving ridiculously fast along the strings, I hadn't played this song in over eighteen months, and it had taken me an entire year to learn it, but I did.
But as the song got faster, my finger twitched and I fumbled the guitar, almost dropping it. Luckily I caught it and quickly put it down.
"Maybe I'm just a bit out of practice..." I laughed nervously as I moved to the piano. As I sat down, I took a deep breath, and slowly began to play a song, gently humming along with it.
"No one laughs at God in a hospital," I sang softly, "No one laughs at God in a war. No one's laughing at God when they're starving or freezing or so very poor. No one laughs at God when the doctor calls after some routine tests. No one's laughing at God when it's gotten real late and their kid's not back from the party yet-"
My eyes caught someone in the shadows and I literally fell out of the chair, with a puppy like yelp. Shocked, I slipped off the back and landed on my ass, my legs in the air with my feet on the stool, my face boiling red.
"Oh, s-sorry, I'm, sorry." I stuttered as I scrambled to my feet. "I'm sorry..." Cringing at my pathetic attempt at speech, I quickly grabbed my lunch and headed for the door, my head down as I refused to look at them.
"Oh, no it's okay," he said, reassuringly.
Glancing up, I recognised my Spanish teacher, Mr Shuester; the one who'd called on me today.
"Jay, right?" He stepped closer.
"Ummmm....." I blushed bright red, quickly mumbling. "It'sjo..."
"Sorry, Jo. You weren't looking for me, were you? Wanted to sign up for Glee?"
I shook my head furiously. "N-no, no, I... Um, I was...." I tried to think of a lie, but there was no excuse that could hid the fact that I was a loser trying to hid from people.
I sighed. "I have no friends..." I admitted. "Every lunch time all the tables are filled with people who are all hanging out together, in clicks and gangs. Friend gangs that is.... Friend gangs doesn't sound right. It sounds like a messed up version of gang bang... And you're my teacher who I'm rambling to about group... Hm, you know!" I snapped at myself, before awkwardly going silent and looking back to him. "Sorry.... You can probably see why I don't have any friends...."
"Yeah, you're a little weird but so what?" He sat on the first step, in his 'casual friend teacher mode that he was known for.
"Yeah, that and I stabbed the most popular guy in the school with a ball point pen..."
"You what?"
I sighed. "He asked me for a pen and I freaked out cause someone was talking to me, and then threw it at him and it impaled his flesh and damaged his hand so then his mum didn't want him to play basketball and they lost the season and everyone blamed me, and hated me, and ignored me and threw pens at me..."
He let out a sad laugh. "Bulling's changed since I was in high school. Kids use to just call each other names."
"Ball point killer, crazy psycho bitch, zombie eyes; the ever so intelligent and witty, abortion gone wrong; stutter, baby body, butter fingers, the somehow insulting, vintage hipster, my personal favourite, pyromaniac, which I strangely don't mind, and of course the classics, nerd, geek, loser, bitch, shit face... They get more hurtful. But then those are the ones who actually talk to me. Those who don't even know who I am, still hate me. I constantly hear people using my name as an insult to their friends, and then I trip and they see me and don't realise who I am! Half the school doesn't know I exist since I'm excruciatingly antisocial and can't talk to anyone!"
"You're talking to me."
"Yeah, and I'm having a mental break down, I feel like I'm gonna throw up, my palms are sweaty, knees weak, moms spaghetti all over my shirt, I'm light headed, struggling to breath. I'm having a panic attack."
"Are you okay?" His voice sounded worried.
"Fine." I squeaked.
"Just take a few deep breath." Nodding I did as he told me, sitting on the piano chair.
"Why haven't you seen miss Pillsberry about this yet? The school has help if you need it. I mean, you can even come talk to me when you're having a bad day."
I just nodded, silently. "Can I go now?"
"Just, one more thing." He got to his feet, shuffling through the papers in his hands as he walked over to the piano. Keeping quiet, I just watched him carefully as he put the sheet music on the rest.
There was silence as I just looked at him.
"Play." He encouraged gently.
"Huh?" I mumbled the noise, making me sound like an idiot.
"Just the first few lines,"
"Oh, n-no I can't, I really can't sing. I sound like a dying cat... And that's my normal voice..." I tried but he just laughed, shaking his head.
"Jo, you can not seriously expect me to buy that. I just heard you singing that Regina Spector song, you're amazing. Just, try it."
After a hesitation, I sighed and began to play.