Well. It has been a week in school. And the least to say... it sucks. I haven't made one single friend, in fact, It was worse. People were bullying me here too. They gave me a nickname. "Dirty mop" is what they call me. I guess my hair does look dirty since it is uneven in some places and has different colors. But it's not my fault, that's the way I am.
I was walking throughout my apartment. It was little, but homey, with all the right cracks and holes. I quickly made myself lunch, knowing I wouldn't eat much. I didn't need much to satisfy me, my stomach is about the size of my fist. Just like everybody elses, but that is pretty small considering how small my fist is.
I quickly grabbed my bag and headed out the door. I was about to lock the door when I remembered something. "Oh crap." I walked into the house and went into my bedroom. Books and paintings were sprawled all over the floor and other random places. I walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer. I dug to the bottom of my clothes and grabbed my song book. Yeah, I liked to write songs. I don't really think they are good though, but I just write down random feelings. I once again walked out of the apartment and locked the door, then walked my path to school. Today is gonna be "fabulous".
As soon as I walked through the school doors, somone yelled, "Hey! Look who decided to show up!"
"What is dirty Mop doing here?"
"Doesn't she know that we don't want her here?"
"Yeah, you think she would get the idea sooner or later."
"Who nows, maybe we have to be a little rough with her."
I walked through the hall as balls of scrunched up paper were thrown at me and my hair was tugged, quite roughly to be honest. I kept walking untill I got to my locker and put in my combination. I put my bag into my locker and closed it shut, then continued down the hall. I soon got to the classroom after countless insults were thrown at me and took my seat.
The class bell rang as more students poured into the room. Everyone took their seat and looked straight as Mr. Ackerman started to call names. Again, as usual, Mr. Ackerman cautiously calls out, "Eren Jaeger?"
"Here."
Heads shoot towards the back and look at a kid with brown hair and green eyes walk through the door. "Aw, yes. You remember your seat, don't you?" "Tch." Then he takes the seat right next to me. I then look down and open up my song book and start to work on a song I have been working on.
I finally finish after about a minute and look up, only to have my book snatched out of my hands. "What is this?" Mr. Ackerman inquires. I stare wide eyed at him as his eyes scan my the page. "It's a song eh? Tch. Well if you have time to be writing songs, you also have time to get your homework done." My cheeks were getting considerably hot. "Well. Obviously you want to share it with us since you were writing it in class. Go up to the front and sing it." He says shoving the book towards me.
I stared at him wide eyed, mouth hanging open. He wanted me to go up there and sing? He then moved to the side for me to proceed through. I got up, still stunned and made my way to the front of the classroom. As I went down the rows I saw people laughing and staring at me.
"She's probably got a horrible voice."
"Yeah, I wouldn't doubt that."
"Her song is probably cheesy and has no character."
I got up to the front of the class and opened my book. My legs were shaky and I felt nauseous. I slowly flipped through the pages and got to the last page. I looked up and my nausea got worse as I saw the looks. They also had their phones out, recording me. Why is it alwaysme? I thought as I cleared my throat and began my song.
