When I opened my eyes I could barely tell they were open. It was so dark. I sat up slowly, looking around I saw the street lights on. Damn. What time was it? I looked at my watch. 7:59. I literally had about 50 seconds before the last bus came. I looked around, trying to find my bearings when right on cue the last bus pulled up. Knowing it would take off assuming no one was there I jumped up trying not to wince as the pain and soreness took over every aching muscle, and ran- well, limped- all the way over as fast as my exhausted body would carry me.
"Waaiit!" I rasped. It hurt to talk. I realized how long it must've been till I had water. Just as the doors were closing after waiting a shorter time then they were supposed to, I amped up the pace and threw myself against the glass doors.
The bus driver, a plump little blond woman with her hair tied up in a tight bun and who seemed on the verge of sleeping from boredom herself, nearly jumped out of her seat at the sound and the sight of me. I guess she won't need that expresso to stay awake anymore.
She flummoxed with the button that would reopen the doors and I came fumbling in. There were only about five people in the bus but I thought I heard a chorus of mini audible gasps at the sight of me. I floundered around with my money practically jamming the dollar into the machine until it was forced to take it. Then feeling around my pockets I pulled out a quarter and.....only a quarter...I know fake-mom supplied me with two dollars and a dollar in change, I was missing three dollars.
I literally pulled both of my jean pockets inside out along with my coat pockets in order to find that damned loose change.
Looking up to the kind-looking bus driver I started to plead, "I sthwear I had"-
"It's okay,sweetie, it's okay...why don't you just have a seat..." She was looking at me with a thing I hate most: pity. But still I was thankful, so I looked at her thankfully, truly thankful for the first time in my life.
"Thank-you," I mutter. For some reason I've seemed to have adapted a lisp and talking really hurts, so I'm not sure if she heard.
She just nods quickly and smiles at me pitifully. I hate it. I sat down quickly before her pitiful stare turned me into what I felt like: A kitten with a broken leg or something else overly cutsie and sad like that.
Since the bus was practically empty I took one of the seats right in front behind the bus driver's seat, right across a young woman who was about in her twenties (who probably didn't get to move to the back quick enough with everyone else) and with an elderly Hispanic lady with groceries neatly hanging from her wrist to my right.
The young woman looked at me and smiled quickly, almost fearingly, and averted her eyes in obvious places that were anywhere but my face for majority of the way. The Hispanic lady, however, stared directly at me shamelessly. She didn't even waver when I stared directly at her for a good two minutes (yes I actually counted every second in my head). Finally with a roll of my eyes I averted my eyes and stared on ahead.
The young blond woman wasn't half as bold. Her eyes darted around my face uncomfortably as she tried not to stare. I could tell she was running out of places to pretend to look so I did her a favor and closed my eyes so she could stare freely.
As I sat there with my eyes closed I went back and tried to remember all the events of the day: Aiden. Anna. Bullies. Shenise. Aaron. Ruthless cheerleaders. Rock. An empty park. It's too much. I don't realize it but I'm glaring in my sleep. Sleep. What I wouldn't give to be sleeping comfortably. In my bed. Not the bed in my fake house with my fake parents, but my real-life bed, with all the other real things I had. I vowed I would never take advantage of my bed again. I soon drifted off as I reminisced.
I woke up unexpectantly when the small little twenty-something year old (thankfully, it looked like) got off at her stop. She uttered a thank-you to the bus driver and got off. When she was gone I was finally able to see why my entrance had nearly scared everyone off.
Looking across at my reflection in the black mirror-like windows I saw this hideous beast: My hair was matted in what seemed to be three visible sections, they must've been pulling my hair. My lips were swollen and had a trail of dried blood leading from the corner of my lip down to my chin; the same went for both of my nostrils. My eye was literally a big swollen purple, and the other was looking a little bluish.
This is it. No more. I may be a peasant on the outside but I'm still a king on the inside.
And Jesse Anderson doesn't take this shit from anybody.
They would pay. I swore on my old life that they would pay.
We finally reached my destination I got off without even saying thank-you to the kind bus driver. I couldn't look into her sorrowful eyes again. Besides, I wasn't the one who needed pity. They did. They were gonna be dead soon. And if God didn't strike them down with lightening by the end of the week, they'll wish he had.
I slumped up my front porch and swung open the door. Fake mom was on the phone speaking in a worried voice. "Yes... No.... Well this morning she was acting really strange and said that she didn't know her way to school. She wasn't even prepared with her bus money and she always has that! Huh? No, no, no, I made sure she had the exact amount I even wrote down the address of the school and directions...I should've been more careful..." her voice broke at the end of that sentence and I felt something funny in the pit of my stomach...pity? Sadness...? Regret...? Guilt. It had to be guilt.
I couldn't remember a time I when I actually felt guilty for anything. Ever. So it took a while to finally decide if it was guilt or not. But after a while of her seemingly on hold, her shoulders began to quiver slightly and little sniffles escaped between the uneven breathing, I finally decided to intervene.
"Fa....Mom....?" I sounded like a chain smoker.
She gasped and spun around. She dropped the receiver which clattered loudly on the floor and ran to me, embracing me in her warm arms.
"oh honey," she was sobbing now, "I was so worried about you."
Worried? So far as I could tell the only person who was truly worried about me was Aiden.
No. She's not worried about you. She's worried about her fake daughter. "Its alright, mom, I'm fine, I'm alright," I tried to reassure her struggling out of her embrace. She wasn't letting me go so easy.
She cradled my head in her hands and forced me to look at her. Her breath hitched at the sight of me. "Oh Jessica!" she exclaimed grasping me in another rough embrace, "Who did this to you!?"
"Nothing - No one, I tripped I'm fine. Where's fa...where's Dad..?"
She rubbed my cheeks tenderly, "he went out to look for you..."
"Did he get that raise he was so excited for?" I asked for need of distraction.
She signed and stroked my matted hair. "No."
"Oh," was all I could say. Finally I decided I needed to be alone. It was plotting time. "Well...mom I'm gonna go shower, do...do you mind?" I referred to the way she was squeezing the life out of me again.
"Oh right sure. Go right ahead honey."
I trudged around the house to the non-connected bathroom to shower. It puttered before the water came out, but eventually I was able to shower and get the matts out my hair and the hot water did some good to the bruises and marks all over my body.
A while later I heard fake Dad come in and fake mom explain what she knew to him. I stayed in there for a longer time to avoid questions of "who did this to you" or threats to call parents or promises of karate lessons. I could handle this myself.
After my long shower I crept out of the bathroom. The lights were all off so I figured they must've exhausted themselves trying to look for me and gone straight to bed. I breathed a sigh of relief and headed to mine.
My fake bed never looked more appetizing. I crept around my room over the creepy floorboards that each seem to literally squeal their loudest with each step I took.
Squeak...
Squeak.....
SQUEAK!!!!
Shit! I would have to make a mental note not to step on that section of the floor. As I made it to my nightstand I was about to jump in bed when I noticed a small brown speck next to am empty pot of dirt.
It was then when I remembered the cause of all this madness. The stupid witch bitch that started this hell that was now my life: Samantha Stone.
I swiped the seed off my nightstand and smashed the pot to the floor. I didn't care if my fake family woke up. I climbed onto my not-a-king-sized mattress bed and burried myself under the ugly yellow comforters. Tomorrow was a new day.
Tomorrow was my day.
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Hey everyone :)
Sorry this Chapter is shorter and took longer than the others to upload. I had a small case of writers block :(
But its working its way slowly and it will lighten up soon enough ;)
So what do you think of the story so far?
What do you think will happen or...what would you like to happen?
Let me know your input and don't forget to comment and vote, it REALLY helps.
Thanks for reading :D