Behind the Darkness

Barely Living

The alarm rings. Again. Another miserable day. No matter how many times you hit snooze the day still seems to creep up on you. No matter how many times you try to ignore it, it's always there, it's always with you. 

There isn't a day that goes by wear I don't force myself into the same bullshit world I fell asleep in. Nothing's changed, I've just probably got a bit more acne and a bit less stamina than I did yesterday. Yet everyday I still get out. Against everything my brain says, I still get out and face the world. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing it. Everything in my life is coming to a dramatic climax and I don't want to be here when everything suddenly collapses. 

Somehow I still care about my appearance, although at this point I'm sure no one else does. I know what you're thinking, I'm the normal self-pitying teenager with low self esteem who wants the world to feel sorry for her because she has no one to sit next to at lunch. Well, you'd be wrong, I'm popular - not in the douche-bag wannabe superstar way, more the way that people seem to think my sarcastic remarks and jokes are a reason to stay in contact with me. Attention is something I avoid like the plague though, come near me with a compliment and there'll be a Chloe shaped hole in the nearest wall. 

That reminds me, I'm Chloe, the self-loathing teen who's narrative you appear to be reading - why? 

By the time I'm on the school bus I'm already thinking about what I'll do when I get home. It usually comes to a conclusion involving either napping or sleeping, everything else is too much effort at the minute. I dread pulling up to the school, dread rushing through my body as I anticipate the conversations and expectations I'll have to suit today. Time to put on a happy face and bare through all, I guess. 

"Chloe! Long time no see!" 

I almost walk directly past in an attempt to signal that it is still far too early for me to be doing any communication, especially seeing as I have yet to eat or drink anything. I am quite literally running on no cylinders.

"Ah yes, precisely fourteen hours, Jake." 

He raised his eyebrows above his glasses.

"Not today?"

"Not today."

Good. Message received. I might actually get some peace for around twenty sec-

"Morning Chloe! How are youuuuu?"

Extending the 'you'? I mean really? 

"It's eight in the morning, Georgie. What the hell could you possibly be so happy about?"

Jake turned to her and mouthed. 

"Not today."

"Oh, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed." 

I sighed and looked at them both before heading up the stairs.

"Both of you can fuck off now." 

But they followed me. Stupid, dedicated, loyal friends.

I opened the library door, hoping some oasis of tranquility would be hiding behind the hunk of wood, that my thumping headache might finally have a remedy. But no. A room full of screaming eleven year olds, playing what I can only assume is top trumps but who knows. After seeing the jungle the library had become, and getting a strict look from Mrs Woods for leaving the door open so long (what is she worried I'm going to get us fined for noise pollution?), I just decided that I'd head to my form room early. 

Thankfully, I finally got some peace, Jake and Georgie are both in 11T which is all the way at the opposite end of the school. Never been so thankful for Mr Turner's strict form-member's-only rule in Room 49, I might actually get to do some revision now.

"Ollie stop!" 

For fuck sake. I am going to put this book through someone's skull in a minute. A gaggle of girls with overly-applied contour, skinny jeans that are so tight that when they walk they look like new born giraffes and Nike Air Force 1's waddled in, a cloud of Victoria's Secret perfume tagging along after them. They all walked in late for one purpose, tormenting the new boy Ollie. I'll admit, Ollie was attractive but only in an obvious way, the boy had the personality of a salted cashew.

Eventually, everyone settled down, everyone had been sat in the same seats since year seven and we kind of made friends around it. Although apparently none of mine decided to turn up today. What are they? Carrying the plague? Dying? No. I don't think so. 

The day ticked past, each second I lost more and more interest into what was going on around me, by the end of the day I just wanted to go and collapse on to my bed. Maybe I'd be lucky enough that I'd never wake up again. Maybe.