Trapped in Forever

1 ~ Roxanne.

A/N: ITS BACK! Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to write wonderful, encouraging comments on the previously posted summary, telling me it was your favorite novel of mine and how much you loved it. Anyway, so I'm going to post a new chapter every two/three days so it won't take forever for you devoted, second time readers to get to something new :) Agains, thanks so much and I hope you like my novel, Trapped in Forever!

" . . . But he was gone when autumn came." - I Dreamed a Dream, Les Miserables.

When I first met Roxanne, I was twelve.

I was in middle school, and I forgot something in the classroom, but now, I can’t remember what it was. Maybe a pen or something. But whatever it was, it’s what made me meet Roxanne.

Black construction paper covered the window since it was safety week. It tricked me earlier that morning when I showed up for class and I nearly left. Now it was lunchtime so I figured the room would be empty.

But when I stepped inside there was Roxanne, with Matt Johnson.

She was leaning back on Mrs. Carmichael’s desk, a steel mesh pencil cup on the floor by their floor with No.2 pencils scattered under students’ desks along with a ruler and a stapler, with Matt’s face close to hers, and I could hear this awful, disgusting sound that made me think of my Uncle Rob eating corn on the cob.

I was twelve, naïve, and thought it was gross when my parents gave each other small pecks to tease me. This was Roxanne, clinging to his blue polo shirt, and sloppy noises as their lips meshed, and Matt making a grunting sound.

His pants were down, around his ankles and slumping over his high-top Nike shoes, and left him exposed in his underwear.

At first, it was like they didn’t even notice me, or they didn’t care. But then, Matt’s glazed over hazel eyes rolled over to me, and Roxanne’s followed, and they pulled apart like two magnets.

I was still holding the door open, gawking at them, absolutely horrified. I never wanted to be kissed now, ever. I’d die a lonely, old lady before I let anyone kiss me like that.

“Who are you?” Matt asked as he looked me over. 

Matt might not have known who I was, but I knew him. He was in our grade except he was fourteen with angry red pimples dispersed across his chin and forehead. He was already going through puberty, and the other boys snickered whenever his voice cracked during class.

I blinked, struggling to regain control of my voice. “I’m, uh,” I said then cleared my throat, awkwardly, “Amanda.”

By now, I guess the moment was lost because Matt pulled free of Roxanne and pulled up his pants, the belt buckle clinking as he shook them up his thighs, and only doing up the button, leaving his fly wide open.

“Next time, knock,” he sneered, brushing past me as he left, and as horrified and shy as I only nodded meekly.

And then I was alone with Roxanne.

She didn’t look at me, just sat daintily on one of the desks (one that wasn’t hers) and let out a sigh. “Well, that didn’t go how I planned.”

I didn’t want to know what that was. “Sorry,” I mumbled.  

Shrugging sheepishly, she slid off the desk and walked over to the blackboard. Our school was too underprivileged for whiteboards I guess. And I watched as she picked up a stick of medium length white chalk, with pink and yellow dust on the tip.  

I wasn’t sure what I expected her to do with it, but it certainly wasn’t lifting the piece to her lips, bite off the end, and then crunch it in her mouth.